Total pages in book: 32
Estimated words: 33333 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 167(@200wpm)___ 133(@250wpm)___ 111(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 33333 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 167(@200wpm)___ 133(@250wpm)___ 111(@300wpm)
“Look at you,” he exhales, thumb stroking slowly over bare skin like he can’t believe I’m real. “Christ, Aspen…”
I swallow, dizzy, heat licking through me. “Say it,” I whisper.
“Say what?”
“That you want me.”
He huffs a broken, hungry sound—half growl, half confession. “Want doesn’t cover it.” His lips brush my ear, sending a violent shiver through me. “I ache for you. I would set this mountain on fire to have you.”
The words knock the breath right out of me.
His hands skim down my sides and find the edge of my skirt. He tugs, dragging it down slowly—obscenely slow—like he’s savoring the undoing of me. The fabric falls around my feet. I step out of it, never breaking his gaze.
He palms the back of my thighs and lifts me effortlessly, carrying me to the wooden side table by the window. He sets me down on it, pulling me to the edge. The storm rages behind the glass, but in here, it’s nothing but heat.
“Lie back,” he commands, voice rough velvet.
I do.
He drags his knuckles along the inside of my thigh, and every nerve in my body sparks alive. His touch is possessive. Slow. Deliberate torture.
“You’re shaking,” he murmurs without looking up.
“You’re infuriating,” I breathe, reaching for him.
He catches my wrist, pinning my hand to the table. “Not tonight. Tonight, you don’t get to pretend you’re unaffected.”
“I’m not pretending—”
“Yes, you are.” His voice deepens. “You talk a big game. You mouth off. You test me. But underneath every smart remark, every glare…” He brushes his knuckles dangerously close to heat. “You burn for me.”
My chest rises too fast, too shallow. “Arrogant.”
“Prove me wrong.”
I can’t.
He knows it. His smile is lethal.
I arch to kiss him, but he evades me and sinks lower, dragging slow open-mouthed kisses down my stomach, leaving heat in their wake. He takes his time—too much time—letting me feel how badly he wants to worship and ruin me at once.
“Thorne…” My voice shakes.
“Tell me what you want,” he rasps against my skin.
“You,” I breathe.
His eyes lock on mine, and the edges of his control fray. “You already have me,” he says. “You’ve had me since the second you walked into my world and blew it apart.”
He stands and pulls me flush against him. His body is pure power, a wall of heat and need. His mouth crashes back into mine, his kiss messy and hungry now. Real. Full of everything neither of us said until now.
He carries me to the bearskin rug in front of the fire. Flames paint him in gold and shadow. He braces over me, his breath shaking just once. Just enough for me to know that he’s as affected as I am.
Then I see it—the bare hint of vulnerability behind the savage hunger.
“Stop looking at me like that,” he mutters.
“How?”
“Like you see everything.”
I cradle his jaw. “Then stop hiding.”
He stares for a beat.
Then he breaks.
Chapter 12
Thorne
Her breath is still ragged from that first kiss—if you can even call it that. It wasn’t a kiss. It was a fucking declaration. Teeth. Tongue. Claim. It shattered whatever line we pretended existed between us.
I carry her closer to the fire in my room, her chest rising and falling, lips swollen from me. Costume still on—what’s left of it. Witch dress in shreds, thigh-high stockings slipping down, glitter smeared across her neck. My handprint still marks her hip. Her eyes are pure challenge.
“Say it,” she whispers.
“No.”
Her chin tilts, that stubborn spark burning bright even now. “Then you don’t get me.”
The fire behind her casts light over my shoulders, turning me into something carved out of night. I drop her to her feet and cage her against the old stone hearth, my fingers sliding up her arms just to feel her tremble. “I already have you.”
“You’re not listening,” she says, voice shaky but sharp. “If you want me—really want me—you’ll say it.”
My jaw is tight. My pulse is violent. I hate how exposed she makes me. I hate how truth sits on the tip of my tongue when she’s near. I hate that I’m going to give it to her anyway.
Because I can’t lose her. Not after this.
“I want,” I grit out, “everything.”
“Everything,” she repeats, softer now.
“Yes,” I rasp, threading a hand into her hair and forcing her to look at me. “Every word. Every secret. Every laugh. Every scream. Every night you think you’re alone. Every morning you don’t want to get out of bed. Every scar. Every storm. Every damn piece of you, Aspen—I want everything.”
She stares at me like she’s never seen me before.
Then she smiles.
Not the sharp, defensive smile she uses as armor—but something softer. Real. Devastating. For a second, I can’t breathe.
“Good,” she whispers, stepping closer until her body is pressed to mine, warm and electric. “Because I want everything too.”
My control snaps.
I grip the laces at the back of her dress and drag the costume open, watching the creamy white fabric fall away from smooth skin. Her breath catches when my fingertips trace down her spine. She isn’t wearing a bra. Of course she isn’t. No panties either.