Page 66 of Burned

“I want to put my hands on you,” I say. “I want to make you say you know you are mine.”

“And then what?” she whispers. “We go back downstairs, and she’s still there, still in love with you?” A small, helpless laugh breaks from her. “She’s never going to leave us alone, is she?”

She makes a sound that’s too close to a sob. I hate that. I cup her face. She lets me.

I try and fail. All I can do is try again. I try to put what I’m feeling into words.

“There is the before me. And the after me.”

“Before the fire,” she says.

“No. Before you.”

Something changes in her gaze. It’s softer.

Hoping I’m on the right track, I keep trying. “And I only like the Lucian I am with you. The Lucian that was created after that night you stood in front of me with your chin jutted out, your blue eyes locked on mine. You created that Lucian. And he only exists if you’re in his world.”

Her eyes fill. Stubborn girl blinks it back. Finally, finally. I’m finally breaking through my own brick wall.

“I also need you under me,” I say. “I need to be buried inside you as far as I can go.

I need you.”

The last chink in her armor. Her shield finally falls away. She rises like the crest of a wave, taking my face in her hands, fusing our mouths.

It’s not gentle. It isn’t supposed to be.

Her mouth crashes into mine with all the pain she will not speak and the jealousy she wants to pretend is beneath her. I catch her by the waist, hauling her against me. She bites my lower lip hard enough to sting.

I groan.

She pulls back just enough to say, “I hate that she had you first.”

The confession crashes down on me. My hand slides into her hair, gripping tight.

“You have a man who knows you have the power to ruin him,” I say against her mouth, “and he wants you anyway.”

Her eyes darken. “Say that again.”

I turn her, pressing her back down onto the sofa cushion. “Which part?”

“The part where you say I have power over you,” she smiles. “Greedy?” I ask. “Power hungry?”

She slips her arms around my neck. “Hungry for all kinds of things.” She licks her lips, begging for a kiss.

“Jealous?” I ask.

She waits a beat before admitting, “Yes.”

“You’re mine. All mine. And all I want is you.”

Her hands slip from my neck and move to my belt. I catch her wrists and pin them above her head, pressing them against the arm of the sofa.

She lifts her chin. “I haven’t given you the green light.”

God. This woman. She will be the death of me.

I lower my mouth to her throat, right where her pulse races. “Then I’ll earn it.”