He didn’t stop to ask why this was happening. He didn’t stop to ask what the game was. He just wrapped his arms around her slender body and held her close. Lost himself in the kiss. In the rhythm of it. In the sweetness of her mouth.
Her mouth wassosweet.
There had never been another mouth like it.
Not in all his vast experience. There had never been a woman who got to him like this. Not ever.
He forgot himself when he was with her. And better still, he forgot the past.
It was like there was nothing. Nothing but her hands on his body, her soft skin beneath his palms.
And she fitted against him so perfectly.
He groaned. And they could talk later. He could ask why the hell this was happening; maybe he could even find his way back to charming.
You weren’t charming. And she’s still kissing you.
That made him feel guilty. Made his chest feel like it was cracked. Because he didn’t deserve this. And he was going to take it, anyway. And wasn’t that the story of his entire relationship with Violet. He didn’t deserve her sweetness. Her trust or her honesty. He didn’t deserve to put his dirty hands all over her sweet, angelic figure, and yet he was first in line to do it. No hesitation. Nothing.
Shouldn’t he have learned something by now? Shouldn’t he have cultivated some resistance?
But there was none, and he wasn’t going to start trying now.
He growled and deepened the kiss, taking control of it, backing her up against the wall. He reached around behind him, took hold of one wrist and pinned it on the wall above her head, then grabbed the other, holding them there with one hand as he explored her figure with the other. As he continued to devour her.
“You have no idea,” he said. “I’ve been haunted by you. I’ve been haunted by you for the last month.”
He wasn’t going to talk. But this kept spilling out of him. And he wasn’t a man who... He wasn’t a man who engaged in casual confession. Wasn’t a man who revealed much of anything, not if he could help it. And he could always help it.
But he told her everything.
“I haven’t even wanted to touch another woman. Haven’t even been able to think about it. You ruined me.” He growled against her mouth. “You made it so I couldn’t want anyone else.”
She blinked, her eyes glistening, but she said nothing. His Violet, who always seemed to say exactly what was on her heart, exactly what was in her mind, didn’t speak. She just listened. And then she kissed him. Kissed his throat. And bit him there. Like she was the predator. Like she was the beast.
He grabbed the straps of her dress and yanked down, revealing her breasts, glorying in the fullness of them. Her body hadn’t changed, not yet. It was novel and familiar all at once. That body that had haunted his dreams every night since. And he’d been consumed by this whole baby thing between them. But this... This was still the biggest thing. Still the truest thing.
He couldn’t imagine being a father. But he didn’t have to imagine this. It was real; it was right in front of him. It was everything.
He pushed the dress the rest of the way down her hips, and thanked God that her feet were bare, because there was something about the sight of her in nothing more than that scrap of red underwear she was wearing, in her bare feet, that undid him. He pushed his hand between her thighs, stroked her, teased her over the filmy fabric. And she arched against him. And for the first time she spoke.
“Wolf.”
Just his name. Whispered. A plea. And he wanted to answer it. He pulled the fabric to the side and found her wet and slick for him. And he was reduced to shaking. Because he was... He was undone. That she wanted him. That she wanted him still. When he had... He had abandoned her. He had abandoned her, then he had dragged her back here.
He had been an ass about her decorating the house for Christmas. He had been... Well, he had been not awesome, and she still wanted him. Was desperate for him, if the feel of her body beneath his fingers was any indication. He grabbed her thighs, lifted them up off the ground and pulled her core hard up against the ridge of his arousal. He ground against her, against the wall, still pinning her there. He was... He was not in a space to handle this. He couldn’t be gentle. He couldn’t be... He couldn’t be better. He could only be him. But she seemed to want him. So maybe that was okay.
It had to be. Because he didn’t have anything else. Couldn’t be anything else. Not in this moment. He just wanted her. And that was it.
He kissed her like that until she was panting, until he could tell by the way she held her body that she was on the verge. He released his hold on her wrists.
She bracketed his face with her hands, kissed him, clinging to him. And he pulled her away from the wall, taking her down the hall to her room, where his bed was.
He laid her down on the mattress and stared at her. At her pale silhouette against the dark comforter. The rise and fall of her plump breasts, that lace that barely covered the part of her that he was so hungry for.
He started to strip, slowly, only because if he went too quick, he was going to be inside her before he could breathe again. And he wanted to give her something a little bit better than that. Wanted to give her something a lot better than that, actually.
“Please,” she whispered.