“So, are you going to give me a tour of the place?” I ask when we’re finally done eating.
“Whatever you want, kitten,” he stands, and I move to do likewise, but I wobble when I come to my feet, the room spinning just slightly.
“Easy there, hellcat,” he’s beside me in an instant, steadying me with his arms around my waist. I place my hands agains his chest, feeling how hard he is against my palms.
“Which is it? Hellcat or kitten?” I ask with a bit of a giggle, his arms still wrapped around me. I know why people drink now. I feel all floaty and happy.
His lips tip up as he looks down at me. “Both,” he answers while trailing a finger down the side of my face. “You’re adorable like a sweet little kitten,” his finger trails down my jawline and over my throat, “but you’ve got claws too, and sometimes you go feral on me.”
“Animals only show their claws when they feel threatened,” I whisper.
He places his thumb under my chin, the touch branding me where it touches my skin. “You have nothing to fear with me. I would never hurt you, kitten.”
“You took my pond. It’s my happy place,” I say petulantly with a pout. I must be tipsy as hell to be admitting this to him. How I’d always thought of it as my pond.
“You can visit it any time you want, kitten,” he says softly. “I don’t have a problem with that.”
I look up at him gratefully. Maybe he’s not so bad. Maybe we just got off on the wrong foot. God, he’s so handsome.
He strokes his hand over my curls before he moves that same hand around to cup the nape of my neck, tilting my head up to him.
His golden eyes are smoldering down at me, and even though I know it’s coming and know I shouldn’t let it happen, I don’t stop it.
And nothing could have prepared me for the sensation of his full lips pressing against mine. Sure I’ve been kissed by boyfriends in the past, but those experimental touches had never felt anything like this.
This must be what being kissed by a man feels like. His lips press firmly against mine, and then I feel his tongue stroking along my bottom lip, tasting me, before it runs along the seam of my lips, urging me to open to him.
When I slowly do, he wastes no time dominating my mouth, his tongue sliding in to take ownership of it. His tongue twines with mine as he sucks and nips on my bottom lip.
When I tentatively start to move my tongue against his, kissing him back, he groans, a deep guttural sound that rumbles in his chest. His hands fist in my hair and tilt my head even further back as he strokes his tongue in and out of my mouth in a way that even a virgin like me knows is reminiscent of the sexual act.
I feel flushed all over, and a strange wetness is pooling between my thighs. My core is thrumming in time with my heartbeat, and I’m gasping for breath by the time he finally pulls back enough to let me breathe.
“Daisy,” he says my name softly as he strokes a thumb over my cheek.
“Wow,” I say softly before I lean forward, dropping my head onto his chest, breathing in his scent. He smells so good—like sandalwood and something distinctly masculine that must just be him.
When I try to pull back from him to get my bearings about me, everything starts spinning. I shake my head, thinking that I must have had too much to drink for my first time, and then everything goes black.