Page 19 of Faith Among Monsters

I can’t believe I shake my head. But I do. “No.”

“Be careful with what you say,” he warns, stepping just a little closer. “You want to finish what we started?”

Shit. Don’t say yes.

But the word dances on the tip of my tongue as I meet his eyes. My lips part, and I wet them nervously.It’s been way too long. And I’ve never had a man like Dax. All man.

“That’s really inappropriate,” I whisper.

His laugh is gasoline on the fire I’m barely controlling. Low, rough, and hot. “That’s not what I asked.”

I swallow hard. With Dax, it won’t stop at a kiss. That much I know.

I take a step closer, and I see his muscles tense, his shoulders tight like a predator ready to pounce.

“Say it,” he says, his voice commanding, daring me.

No. No.He’s going to wreck me. That thought sends my pulse racing, my body heating in ways I can’t stop. “Yes,” I whisper.

His eyes flash with something dangerous, and he moves into my space, erasing the distance between us.

“Yes, what?” he presses, his tone demanding, almost feral.

I hesitate, but only for a moment. Then I lift my hand and place it on his waist, my fingers curling into his shirt. The heat of his body seeps into my palm, grounding me and setting me alight all at once.

“I want you,” I breathe, the words barely audible. Then I lean in, rolling up onto my toes, and let my nose brush against the rough skin of his neck. “Dax, I want you.”

The sound he makes is low and primal, vibrating through me like a shockwave.

Before I can think, his hands are on me, lifting me like I weigh nothing.

My legs wrap around his waist instinctively, locking tight as he carries me to the bed.

Every step feels deliberate, his grip firm but controlled, and the tension in his body tells me just how close he is to losing that control.

He stops just at the edge of the bed, his dark eyes blazing as they meet mine. “Undress,” he says, his voice rough with command. “Slowly.”

My fingers tremble slightly as I reach for the hem of my shirt, peeling it off with deliberate slowness. The cool air kisses my bare skin, but it’s nothing compared to the heat of his stare.

His hands move to the hem of his shirt, and he pulls it over his head in one smooth motion.

I swallow hard. His chest, like his arms and neck, is covered in tattoos. Thick black designs snake over his muscles, sharp and purposeful, each one drawing my eye to the unrelenting strength beneath them. His body is all solid muscle, scarred and powerful. I have the sudden, irrational urge to trace every line with my tongue.

He sees it. “Keep going,” he rasps.

My throat dries as I lift my own shirt over my head, the cool air brushing over my skin.

His gaze locks on my bra, and the heat in his eyes is enough to make my knees weak.

It’s nothing special, just white lace, but the way he looks at me makes it feel like I’m wearing the most seductive thing he’s ever seen. His jaw tightens, and the tension in his body winds tighter, his restraint a visible strain.

His expression says he’s seconds from tearing it off with his teeth. God help me, Iwishhe would.

My fingers tremble slightly as I reach behind me and unclasp the hooks. The straps slide from my shoulders, and the lace rolls off, falling forgotten to the floor.

For a moment, he doesn’t move, doesn’t breathe. His eyes drag over me, dark and intense, like he’s memorizing every inch of skin, every curve.

“The time to say no is passing,” he warns, his voice rough and low, vibrating through the air between us.

---