Page 97 of Yearning For Her

Kian forced Eli’s jaw shut, snapped off the rose’s stem, and threw it aside before rising.

Eli rolled onto his side, coughing and spitting out the ruined flower. Kian grabbed him by the back of his shirt and dragged him out through the open front door. Halting at the edge of the porch, he tossed the man down onto the walkway.

Willow hurried to the door, heart racing as she stopped behind Kian to look past him.

Eli groaned, lying where he’d landed on the cement with his features contorted in pain. Crimson stained his lips, a mix of his blood and the crushed rose petals, and the rest of his face was nearly as dark.

“Get the fuck out of here,” Kian growled.

Dazed and sluggish, Eli unsteadily got to his feet and stumbled toward his car, which was parked in Willow’s driveway, blocking her vehicle. He got in, slammed his door closed, and started the engine. The car peeled out, nearly hitting her mailbox as he drove away.

“Say the word, my Violet, and I’ll kill him,” Kian said, voice low and lethal.

Willow settled her hands on his back. Tension radiated from him. As much as she disliked Eli, as horrible as he’d been, he didn’t deserve to die. But… Willow couldn’t deny that Kian’s ruthlessness in defending her had turned her on. And she only felt a little bad about what had happened.

Just a teeny, tiny bit.

“No. He’s not worth it,” she said.

Kian’s shoulders rose and fell with his harsh, heavy breaths, and he kept his head turned in the direction Eli had fled. “But you are, Willow.”

He spun toward her suddenly, bent down, and hooked an arm around her ass, lifting her over his shoulder as he straightened. Willow’s world turned upside down.

She squeaked and braced her hands on his back as her hair fell around her head. “Kian!”

He strode into the house and kicked the door shut, snatching up the bouquet of roses as he passed the couch. He slammed them into the trash in the kitchen and continued toward her bedroom without missing a beat.

“Sorry, Violet,” he said. “Still have some aggression I need to get out.” He slapped her ass, sending a rush of desire through her before he soothed the sting. “And I have a willing mate with a soft, hot body who’ll help.”

Willow captured her bottom lip with her teeth in a grin. She made her answer as clear and concise as possible by slapping his ass in return.

He laughed as he carried her into the bedroom.

Twenty-Six

Willow was struck with a sense of déjà vu. Over a month ago, she’d walked along this same sidewalk beneath the same dark sky, had swept her gaze across the same fancy storefronts, had felt the same sense of mystery in not knowing where she was being taken. She was even wearing the same purple dress.

But the man beside her couldn’t have been more different.

This man didn’t dismiss her feelings, ignore her desires, or make her feel embarrassed for the things she enjoyed. This man didn’t force her to adhere to his schedule, didn’t make her beg for his time.

Kian wanted to spend time with her.

His hunger for Willow went so far beyond making love. He was ravenous when it came to learning about her, devouring every drop of information she offered, always seeking clues while he was in her home. Though he often presented himself as arrogant and self-absorbed, the truth of Kian was much deeper. He’d devoted himself to discovering every aspect of Willow one tiny piece at a time.

He’d lie with her just to simply talk, would cuddle and watch movies with her, and had even listened to her read romance books out loud beneath the fairy lights on her bed’s canopy.

Though she’d been embarrassed when he’d first asked her to read those stories to him, it had proven well worth it every time they’d reached a spicy scene. He always interrupted before she finished, but she was never upset, because his reenactments were always infinitely better than the words on the page.

Of the scenes they’d reenacted thus far, her favorite had come up yesterday afternoon. In the book, the heroine had been bound by silk webbing so the spider monster could claim her as his mate. Kian’s clever hands had demonstrated a talent for shibari that’d had Willow weak in the knees before he’d even finished tying her up.

Willow’s core clenched, and her skin tingled with the memory of his hands moving over her as he’d conquered her body.

“Ah, Willow,” Kian purred, casting his heated gaze down toward her. “Seems your thoughts have taken a wicked turn.”

She grinned as she laced her fingers with his. His metal rings were cool against her skin. “I was just thinking about your…talented hands.”

“I’ve the hands of a musician, considering the songs they coax from you.”

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