Page 119 of The Beekeeper

“You should go back to your room.” He intended it to be a warning, but all I heard was the plea. To save myself. To spare myself from all the things he couldn’t give. And all I wanted to do was scream that all I wanted was him.

“Is that what you want?” I asked, my voice unintentionally husky, but no matter how hard I tried to swallow, I couldn’t.

His stare flicked to mine, hard and unyielding. “What I want doesn’t extend beyond tonight.”

I shivered. “I know.”

His nostrils flared. “Harper…”

“I want one more night,” I admitted, putting all of my bruised and battered heart out on the table, knowing I was begging for more trauma. I didn’t want just one more night, but I was willing to pay any price for as many more nights with him as I could get. Even if this would be the last. “Consider this the Cinderella clause to our contract. At midnight, we both go back to being platonic pumpkins.”

He said nothing. Did nothing. He just stood on the other side of the counter, the heat radiating off him in waves, as he stared at me so intently; I couldn’t decide if he was willing me to disappear or convincing himself that I hadn’t. That I knew, once again, exactly what I was signing up for.

Lifting my chin, I backpedaled a few steps, watching his eyes follow me like a predator locked on his prey, and then turned and walked back to my room. I stopped as soon as I crossed the threshold and, keeping my back to him, reached for the edge of my tank and lifted it over my head.

Blaze’s sharp inhale hit louder than the fabric did as it fell onto the floor. Next, I shimmied out of my shorts, leaving myself in nothing but my thong, and I could practically hear his molars grinding.

I cocked my head over my shoulder. Not far enough to see him, but far enough to taunt, “Go upstairs, Blaze.”

Heavy footsteps hit the ground, punishing it for the choice he had to make.

I reached for the door, swinging it shut behind me, but instead of the sound of it slamming into the doorjamb, it banged against something decidedly less wooden and infinitely harder.

“Harper…” I turned at his low growl, finding him looming in the doorway. His hungry stare roamed over me—over my pebbled skin and hard nipples down to my soaked underwear. “What are you doing to me?”

Jutting my chin forward, I answered, “The same thing you’re doing to me.”

In an instant, he’d closed the space between us and his hands cupped my face, angling it to the descent of his mouth.

I’d experienced a lot of Blaze’s kisses over the last couple of weeks. The slow ones. The hard ones. The sweet ones. The taunting ones. But this kiss…this one had something else mingled in with the desperation and hunger.

“I need you,” he growled roughly against my jawline as he carried me to the bed. His mouth worked its way to my neck, licking and sucking on the resting place of my pulse. “I need you.”

Every time he repeated the words, I felt them in my bones. It wasn’t the confession of a man in the throes of lust, but a man who was at the very end of his rope. Who’d been trying to stand on his own all day—to shoulder all the fear and frustration on his own, and finally admitted, under the guise of desire, that he needed someone, too.

I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him as tight as I could. “I need you, too,” I murmured as he lifted me in his arms and carried me the two steps to the bed.

It wasn’t rough or fast or frantic the way he laid me on the mattress and then straightened above me. His movements weren’t hurried or harsh as he removed his clothes, the whole time staring down at me like he wanted to burn the image into the backs of his eyeballs, so every time he closed his eyes, this—I was what he would see.

“Blaze…” I shuddered as he settled over me, kissing me, as his hand slid between my legs.

His groan was both fractured and sensual when his fingers found my core drenched and ready for him. I heard the pop and then felt the release of the fabric that he’d snapped.

“Fuck, Harper,” he swore as his fingers pushed into me, my body instantly melting around him.

Oh, how I’d missed this. Missed him.

Just like his kiss, his touch now was different, too. Tender—painstaking in the way you treat something you know you’re never going to have again. It didn’t take much—a few strokes of his skilled fingers to have me writhing underneath him, and then his hand disappeared, replaced by the blunt head of his cock.

Tears pricked the corners of my eyes at the slowness with which he entered me.

“I need you, my little queen,” he rumbled next to my ear as he bottomed out.

“I’m here.” I slid my hand to his nape and turned his head to mine. “I’m here, Blaze. I’m yours.”

The sound of pure longing left his lips as he kissed me again and started to move. This time, there was no roughness. No raw, unvarnished kink. No dirty words of a casual fling. Nothing but his mouth on mine, kissing me like I was his last meal and fucking me like I was his last…

“Blaze,” I panted, thoughts eluding me as pleasure spiraled higher.