Page 48 of Storm's Deliverance

“Don’t let him darken your light.” Maisy hiccups as she slumps on the stone steps.

“You’re right! I can achieve anything.” Storm nods, taking a stance like she’s about to leap. I move quickly and wrap my hand around her waist, pulling her to me.

“You try to leap over those fucking pews, you will smash your face in and re-break those ribs that have only just healed,” I warn in her ear.

She pouts. “You just have to spoil all my fun.”

Enzo walks in, a smirk on his face, shaking his head back and forth as he approaches us. “Time to go home.”

“Noo,” Maisy cries, hugging the base of the font.

“Try the holy water, bro, it’s delicious.” Storm snorts as her body relaxes against mine. with her back pressed to my front, I keep my arm around her waist, grazing my thumb along the bare skin where her top has ridden up.

“Maisy, fuck, I have more holy water in the truck,” Enzo lies.

“You promise?” she says, looking up at him.

“I would never lie to you,” Enzo states. She nods and takes his hand as he helps her up. She stumbles, nearly falling, so Enzo takes no chances and scoops her up in his arms and carries her out.

“Come on, BB,” I murmur, releasing my hold on her.

I lace my fingers through hers and start leading her toward the door. After a few steps, she stops. The sudden resistance tugs at my arm. I turn, expecting to find she’d stumbled over something, but she’s just standing there, watching me.

“What is it?” I ask, moving closer. My hands find her face instinctively. “Are you hurting?”

Her gaze locks onto mine. “Kiss me, Drix.” The words hit harder than they should.

My lips part. “I can’t.”

“You can.”

“You’re drunk.”

A small smile touches her mouth as she nods. “I am.”

“Then I definitely can’t.”

Her hands flatten against my chest. Warm. Steady. Before I can stop her, she rises onto her toes and presses her lips to mine. The kiss is soft at first. Testing. Waiting.

When I don’t immediately respond, she pulls back, just enough for her breath to ghost across my mouth. “Fucking kiss me, Drix.” The demand is barely above a whisper.

Then she catches my bottom lip between her teeth.

My restraint snaps. One second, I’m fighting myself, the next, my fingers are buried in the silk of her dark hair.

A sharp gasp leaves her as I tilt her head back, forcing her eyes to meet mine. I don’t kiss her. Not yet. I just look at her. At the desire burning in her eyes, at the way her lips have parted, at the uneven rhythm of her breathing.

Every ounce of control I have is hanging by a thread.

“If you’re waiting for me to beg,” she says, her voice rough and defiant, “you’re going to be waiting a long fucking time.”

A slow smile pulls at my mouth. “Oh, sweetheart,” I murmur. “I’m not interested in simply making you beg.” I pause, watchingher throat bob as she swallows. “I’m interested in making you forget every stubborn thing you were about to say.”

For the first time, she falters. Only for a second, but I see it. “I’ve never begged for any man.”

The challenge in her voice only makes my pulse pound harder. I brush my mouth against hers. Once. Twice. Never fucking enough. Her shiver is immediate.

“That’s okay,” I whisper against her lips. My hand tightens slightly in her hair. “Because I’m not just any man.” Not giving her a chance to respond, I crush my mouth to hers. The second our lips meet, every shred of restraint I’ve been clinging to evaporates. I kiss her hard; possessive, demanding. I’ve spent too long denying myself this. A soft sound escapes her, and it nearly fucking undoes me.