Page 32 of Reptile Dysfunction
“Careful,” I warn, but my hands are already sliding under her blouse, finding warm skin. “I’m not very good at holding back lately. Not when I’m around you.”
“Good.” She nips my lower lip. “I didn’t walk all this way for you to be careful.”
“Sloane.” Her name is half warning, half plea. “If we start this…”
“We already started this.” Her hip slides against my hardness again, deliberate now. “The moment I walked into your pool in those ridiculous shoes.”
The memory makes me smile against her mouth. “They were impressive shoes.”
“You were more impressive in your sexy swimsuit.” Her fingers trace the tribal tattoos on my arms. “All brooding enforcer energy and protective instincts. Made me want to know what was underneath.”
“And now?”
“Now I want to knoweverything.” She kisses along my jaw, making my snakes sway drunkenly. “Every ability, every instinct, every way you react when I do this…”
Her nails scrape my scalp again, and my control snaps. In one fluid motion, I stand with her in my arms, ignoring my protesting back muscles. “Upstairs. Now.”
“Your back—”
“Will survive.” Especially with the way she’s kissing my neck, making coherent thought impossible. “Unless you’d rather stop?”
Her laugh is pure sin. “Not a chance, Gorgon. You’re stuck with me now.”
“Promise?” The word comes so deep and low it’s practically feral.
She pulls back just enough to meet my gaze. “Look me in the eye and ask me that again.” Her voice carries challenge and invitation.
I let my eyes shift to that deep amber that makes her breath catch, feeling the ancient power flow between us like liquid fire. The truth compulsion wraps around her, but gently—more like a caress than a demand. “Promise me.”
The magic settles over her like warm silk, but her smile tells me she was going to give me honesty anyway.
“I promise.” She kisses me softly. “I choose you. Snakes and all.”
As if on cue, Sterling tightens possessively around her throat while other snakes create a swaying curtain of scales around us.
“They really do have distinct personalities,” she observes, amused.
“They’re ridiculous.” But my voice holds nothing but fondness. “Especially around you.”
“Like owner, like snakes?”
“You have no idea.”
But as I carry her toward my bedroom, I think maybe she does have an idea. Maybe she sees exactly what I’ve been trying to hide behind enforcer intimidation and deliberate distance.
Because sometimes the scariest thing isn’t letting someone see your powers or your past or your protective instincts.
Sometimes the scariest thing is letting them see your heart.
Even when your hair is absolutely terrible at hiding how it feels about them.
Chapter Fourteen
Thad
My snakes hover in the space between us, swaying with anticipation as Sloane’s fingers trail along my jaw. The moonlight streaming through my bedroom windows casts silver patterns across her skin, and the vulnerability we just shared below transforms into something deeper—hunger mixed with trust.
“Your back—” she starts, concern flickering across her face.
