“Oh, sorry,” I mutter, trying to make my way around them in the pitch dark.
“I’m not,” a familiar, deep voice says, his mouth close to my ear.
Goosebumps erupt along my skin, and my knees give way just as he pushes me against the wall. The uneven stone jabs into my back. I am pinned beneath him, and his body is warm—too warm. Burning. I feel a hand rove over the front of my robe.
“What—I’m—” I manage, stuttering. I can’t even speak as he places his mouth next to my ear. The feel of his hot breath on my neck, the way he subtly grinds against me… I can’t breathe without getting lungfuls of his scent. His hands move up, grazing the sides of my breasts.
“Shut up,” he murmurs, his voice so low that it’s barely detectable.
When he pushes against me, I get a feel for his size and heaviness. Everything inside of me, every forgotten part, blazes to life.
And then he kisses me—hard, agitated, rough. His lips grind against mine and he forces my mouth open with his tongue, and a thousand shivers claw down my spine as he pushes against me, biting my lip. I moan into his mouth, and it seems to spur him on, because he growls in response, taking my hands and shoving them above my head. I cry out at the roughness as my head falls back, the sound of our heavy breathing the only indication that anyone’s in here.
“I don’t like you,” he breathes, biting my lip again as he presses himself against me. “So please explain why I just spent the last hour looking for you.”
I gasp and pull his face to mine, and his tongue swirls against mine. I pull away.
“I don’t like you either,” I answer, my voice uneven. “So please explain why I just spent six hours disappointed that your smart ass wasn’t here.”
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