Page 31 of Beneath His Robes

And that’s when I realized. It wasn’t just my body betraying me—it was him, too. Ronan was as consumed by this as I was. There was no hiding it anymore. The air between us thickened, charged with a heat that didn’t belong in the frozen world around us. His lips brushed over mine, and his breath mingled with mine. The faintest kiss was just enough to make my heart race, just enough to make my chest tighten with longing.

“Ronan…” My voice cracked, a breathless whisper that I didn’t even recognize as my own.

My hands reached for him, sliding across his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin through his jacket.

But Ronan didn’t wait for me to make a move.

He closed the distance between us with one swift, sure motion, and his lips crashed against mine, not gentle anymore, but demanding.

It was a kiss full of hunger, of years of restraint, breaking free.

He was claiming me—not just physically, but emotionally, as if he was pulling me back into a world I had run from for far too long.

My hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, needing his warmth and taste. His hands slid under my jacket, the contact of his skin against mine sending a jolt of fire through my veins. Every inch of him was like a spark, and it was spreading—filling me, taking over everything I had once thought was mine to control.

I gasped as his lips moved down, trailing a path along my jaw to the delicate curve of my neck. His breath was hot against my skin…each exhale sending a shiver through me. His mouth grazed me like he was savoring every tiny breath I took.

“God, Elias…”

His voice was strained, barely a whisper, but the desperation was clear. His hands slid lower, tracing the muscles in my back, pulling me even tighter against him until there was no space left between us, until every breath I took, every movement I made, was synced with his.

“Tell me you want this. Tell me you’re not still fighting it.”

I swallowed hard, the words lodged in my throat. I wanted to say no. I wanted to say that I couldn’t, that this wasn’t right. But those words didn’t come.

All I could do was bury my face against his shoulder and breathe him in, feel the heat of his skin, the way his body fit so perfectly against mine.

I had spent years telling myself this couldn’t happen and that I couldn’t be with him because of the life I had sought to achieve.

But the truth I had buried deep within me was that I had never stopped wanting him. And now, with him so close, with his hands pulling at me like I was the only thing in the world that mattered, I could no longer deny it.

“I want this,” I breathed, my voice a broken whisper against his skin.

The words were heavy, filled with all the things I had kept inside for too long. And the moment I said them, I felt something inside me snap. The last of my resistance crumbled, and the floodgate opened.

Ronan’s hands moved faster now, pulling at the fabric of my jacket, eager and impatient. His pulse raced beneath my fingertips, and the roughness of his breath thrummed in my ear as he pulled away just enough to look at me.

His gaze was dark, full of want, but there was something else too—something more vulnerable.

“You don’t have to be afraid anymore,” he murmured, his voice low, like a promise. “I’m not going anywhere.”

His lips crashed against mine again. His hands slid under my shirt, caressing the lines of my back, pulling me tighter against him, and I could feel the heat of his body, the muscle beneath the warmth of his skin.

I wanted more. I needed more.

And there was no stopping now.

Ronan’s hands were everywhere—tracing, touching, pulling me closer as if he couldn’t get enough of me. I could feel his body reacting to mine, hard and warm against the cold of the world around us.

The snow continued to fall, but it might as well have been a distant storm. All I could feel, all I could think about, was him.

His lips moved from my mouth, trailing a scorching path down my throat, slow and deliberate, as if he was savoring every inch of my skin. Each kiss was like fire—small bursts of heat in the freezing night.

I couldn’t keep still.

My hands moved restlessly over his body, needing to feel him, to memorize the way he felt beneath my fingers.

I felt the hard press of his chest against mine, felt the way his breath hitched as my hands found the line of his shirt, slipping underneath it to meet the warm, taut skin of his back. The muscles there twitched under my touch, and he let out a low, guttural sound, something halfway between a groan and a breathless laugh.

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