Page 45 of Burn for Me

“I'm sorry.” She whispers into my chest, and I wish she'd just stop apologizing. Especially when I don’t know what the fuck it is she’s so sorry for.

I clear my throat and walk through the lobby with a confident stride. Once we're in the elevator, I gently nudge her head with my nose, prompting her to tilt it to the side, allowing me to place my mouth near the shell of her ear as if I'm going to whisper.

I speak loud enough that if anyone is listening, they can hear me clearly, "I'm sorry I took a wrong turn to get us here. We'll get you in bed soon."

She makes a sound that suggests she might start giggling again, but before she can respond, I step out of the elevator and lead us to our room.

"Can you stand for a moment?" I ask.

She nods, and I lower her slightly to retrieve the key card and open the door. She tries to enter on her own, but I wrap my arm tightly around her waist to keep her by my side as she stumbles, giggling and grasping at anything to stabilize herself while I guide her to the bedroom.

If she were drunk, I might find the sight endearing; it could even make me laugh. But the concern outweighs any humor in our situation.

I lift her by her hips and place her on the edge of the bed before dropping to my knees to unbuckle the straps of her black heels. She’s too quiet and still, so I glance up to find her staring at me with hooded eyes and her lip caught between her teeth. Yeah, Idefinitelyhave a heart because it's beating against my ribs, pumping all my blood straight to my cock at the wrong damn moment.

Needing a distraction from how my body is reacting, I focus on the dark, hand-shaped bruise I had created and place my mouth to it as I toss her heels to the side. The feel of her smooth skin under my lips is too addicting to pull back now, so I take my timeto drag my hands up the back of her thighs, then back down with her garter so I can tuck the knife into my sleeve in the process.

“Do you need anything to drink?” I murmur against her skin before pulling away. Her shoulders shake with a shiver as I stand and guide her to lie back on the pillows. I should've known delirious questions would start coming, but I can't respond properly to them right now. Seeing her sprawled out and willing is tempting me into giving the assholes the show they’re so desperate to see.

I can rip that dress off her so they know exactly who she belongs to. Who woman they fucked with. Let them hear whose name she’ll cry.”

“Come here. I'm cold, and you're always so warm.” She whispers and sprawls her hands above her head. Swallowing hard, I tilt my chin and look down at her as I pull off my jacket. Keeping the blade tucked in the sleeve, I fold it over her nightstand.

“Get under the covers, little devil.”

Slowly, I unbutton my shirt, relishing the fire that ignites in her eyes.

She looks at me like I'm some kind of god that she's ready to worship. Little does she realize that she's the one with all the power. All she has to do is sit on her throne made of flames, and I'll gladly drop to her feet as the fire eats at my skin so that she can point me toward the next soul she wants to keep.

“This better not be another one of your little moments,” she says, begrudgingly complying as she tosses the covers aside, a mix of sleepiness and irritation in her voice. Just as she begins to pull the duvet back up, I nudge my knee between hers and place the blanket over us while I brace my arms on either side of her head.

“I’m here,” I murmur, leaning closer.

“I’m warmer, but I'm still not hot enough. You should come closer...” Her words escape in a breath against my mouth.

“I wouldn't want you to get burned.” I laugh, but her eyes lock with mine, and my smile fades as I notice how close her lips are to mine.

“Have you ever touched fire?” she whispers.

“When I’m near you,” I pause, brushing her hair back. “It feels like I’m caught in an inferno. It's not like touching fire but more like being stuck in it with no way out.”

“Youburn for me?” Her nose grazes mine.

“I let the flames consume me, leaving only ash for you to walk on everysingletime, Darlin’,” I mutter as my lips whisk against hers.

She gasps, “Why would you do that?"

“So you never have to know that kind of heat.”

Before she can say anything else I catch her lip between mine with a low groan. My restraint fades with every glide of her mouth. It’s too smooth, almost natural, as if we've done this a thousand times before and will do it a million more. I need to slow down. I want to enjoy her in the most inhumane ways possible, but I can't do that right now. Not when she’s unable to feel every moment. I tear my mouth from hers and run it along her cheek to her jaw.

“Go to sleep, darlin’,” I whisper.

“Wh—”

“Please.” I kiss her throat, then her shoulder, and as her breathing slows, I kiss her head and pull her close, burying my nose in her hair.

“It's dark, Sam.” I sigh as her words trail into a soft breath, and she falls asleep

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