Page 92 of Burned

Not because of lust. Because of need.

Raw, terrified, reaching need.

“I don’t want to feel like he’s still with me,” she whispers.

My body goes deadly still.

Flush rises in her cheeks. “Forget I said that.”

“I know what you mean.”

Her throat moves. She says, “I need you to touch me like I’m still me.” I close my eyes for one second.

This woman.

I slide my hand to the back of her neck. “I want you, too. Always.”

“Same,” she whispers back.

I kiss her softly. “Can I touch you?”

She answers by climbing into my lap.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

ERIN

Lucian’s armscome around me the second I climb onto him.

Not trapping.

Receiving.

That nearly undoes me.

I expected the dark thrill first. The command. The heat. The beautiful escape of his control swallowing mine until all the sharp edges in my head went quiet.

Instead, he holds me like I am something returned.

Not fragile.

Not ruined.

Returned.

My knees press into the carpet on either side of his thighs. His hands settle at my back, heavy and warm, waiting for me to decide what happens next.

Lucian Bachman, waiting. Acknowledging I’m in control.

I cup his face. His jaw is rough under my palms. His eyes are darker than I have ever seen them, and beneath the darkness is rage so deep it should scare me.

It doesn’t.

Because he has not left.

Because he is still here with me on the floor, instead of hunting for someone to kill.

Because when I told him the thing I thought would make his touch change, he asked if he could touch me at all.