Page 49 of Sizzling Desire

My pulse kicks into overdrive. Damn him. Damn the way healwaysturns every argument into something charged, something that makes my skin flush and my brain short-circuit.

“This isn’t about the fire,” I snap. “You just want to control me.”

His eyes darken. “That’s not what this is.”

“Then whatisit, Kane?” I demand, stepping into his space now. “Why do you care so much?”

Something shifts in his gaze, something raw and unguarded. “Because you matter, Gracie. You matter to me.”

The air leaves my lungs.

“No, I don’t.” The words come out sharper than I intend, but I need to say them. Ineedto remind myself. “I’m not some damsel in distress. I don’t need rescuing.”

“Jesus Christ, Grace,” he growls, his fingers raking through his hair. “Why do you always push people away?”

I stiffen, my heart pounding in my chest. I know he’s right, but admitting it was another matter. “I don’t push people away.” I lie, my voice steely.

“The hell you don’t.” He steps closer, his presence swallowing the space between us. “Every time someone gets too close, you shove them away before they have the chance to leave first. You’ve built a fortress around yourself, afraid to let anyone in.”

A spark of anger ignites inside me. “I’m not afraid,” I snap, my eyes flashing with defiance. “I just don’t need anyone.”

Kane’s lips twist into a smirk, and he leaned in even closer, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. “Then why do I see the fear in your eyes, Gracie? Why do I sense the vulnerability you try so hard to hide?”

My breath hitches as his words strike a chord deep within me. I want to deny it, to push him away, but something about his intense gaze holds me captive. “I’m not afraid,” I repeat, my voice shaking slightly.

His lips curl, and it’s not amusement, not arrogance—it’s something darker, something that makes my stomach flip. His body brushes against mine. “Prove it,” he whispers, his breath tickling my ear. “Let me in, Gracie. Show me you’re not afraid.”

I open my mouth, prepared to fire back, but before I can, Kane moves and then he’s kissing me, crushing any protest I might have made. His kiss is a demand, a declaration of his intent. It is raw and fierce, a clash of tongues and teeth, as if they are waging battle of dominance.

I taste his morning coffee on his breath, the hint of mint from his toothpaste, and something primal stirring within me. My hands ball into fists, but instead of pushing him away, I find myself pulling him closer. The kiss deepens, and I open my mouth to him, meeting his passion with my own.

Kane’s hands tangle in my hair, his fingers tightening as he angles my head, taking control of the kiss. His lips are demanding, claiming, and I let him. God help me, I let him.

My fingers grip his shirt, pulling him closer, because now that I’ve had a taste, I need more. I need all of it.

A low growl vibrates in his throat, and he lifts me off the ground, my legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. I feel powerful and vulnerable all at once, a heady combination that sends a rush of heat between my thighs.

“I should make you beg for this,” he mutters against my throat.

A shiver runs through me, heat pooling low in my stomach. “I don’t beg.” I manage to say, my voice breathless.

He bites my earlobe, a sharp nip that has me gasping. “We’ll see.” He says as he carries me up the stairs.

We crash through the bedroom door, lips never parting. He kicks it shut behind us and presses me against it, his hips pinning me in place.

“Kane—” I moan, my hands sliding up his back, feeling the heat of his skin.

“I’m done fighting this, Grace.” His voice is rough, strained. “Tell me to stop.”

I can’t. My resistance crumbles as his mouth finds the sensitive spot below my ear, his teeth nipping at my skin. I arch my neck, granting him better access, my body betraying me. “Please,” I whisper, not even sure what I’m asking for.

Instead, my hands mapping every hard plane of muscle as his mouth finds mine again.

Kane’s hands roam over my body, his touchpossessive and demanding. He tears at my shirt, exposing my breasts. His mouth claiming one taut peak, his tongue swirling, and I cry out, my head falling back against the door.

“That’s it, let me hear you,” he whispers, his breath hot against my skin. “I want to hear you call my name, Gracie. I want to make you lose control.”

Clothes come off in frantic, heated movements. His lips trail down my throat, my collarbone, my stomach. He drops to his knees, his hands pushing my thighs apart. My fingers dig into his shoulders, my nails leaving marks on his skin as I cling to him. I’m on fire, my body burning with need. “Please, Kane,” I plead, my voice hoarse. “I need you.”

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