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His hands left my back, gliding up my arms, gently securing both sides of my neck. His thumbs stroked the hollow of my throat. My head fell back as I savored his touch. Back and forth and back and forth on my pulse that had gone mad.

He leaned forward until his lips were almost touching the side of my mouth. Almost.

“Kara,” he whispered. “Won’t you kiss me?”

I hissed out a breath.

I thought he would just take, remove the decision from me and just take, but he waited until I was ready. Until I made up my mind.

I felt his body poised for my rejection or my surrender. But the

re was no question in my mind.

I closed my eyes and took his bottom lip between mine. I heard him growl, as if he’d been starved and I’d just served him what he’d been craving.

Then he took over.

His tongue traced the seam of my lips, seeking entrance to my mouth. I opened up to him and he slid inside, shocking me with the arousal that bloomed inside me.

He tasted like orange and mint with a hint of the beer he had been drinking earlier.

One of his hands moved to the back of my head, securing me in place, as his mouth slanted against mine, wanting more, demanding more.

He moaned, deepening the kiss. And I was lost.

I pressed my hands on his back, pulling him closer, rubbing my body against his.

He was hard everywhere, his muscles rippling and tensing as I placed my hands under his shirt, glided up his chest. His skin was burning hot.

His hands settled on my heels, sliding up to my calves, swirling at the back of my knees, up my legs, then cupping my ass.

Then his hips surged up. Oh God.

His hands reached for the zipper on my pants. My eyes flew open.

“Stop.”

I pushed against him, but it was like pushing a car, he was so big and heavy. But he stopped, his hands falling to his sides.

I untangled myself, standing up and away from him, breathing hard.

His mouth was wet, rosy, his eyes smoky with desire. “Kara.”

“No,” I said.

His hands shook as he raked his fingers in his hair. “I won’t do anything you don’t want me to.”

He reached out, his hand closing on my wrist.

“Don’t go,” he pleaded.

I shook my head, pulled away, but he was ten times stronger than I was. There was no way I would be able to escape him.

“Let. Me. Go.”

He looked at me for a moment. There was a vulnerability in his eyes I hadn’t seen before. It nearly undid me.

And then he opened his hand and let me go.


Tags: Isabelle Ronin Chasing Red Romance