Page 34 of His To Erase
There’s something in his tone that tightens the air—like the moment before a storm. I should shut up and be smart. Instead, I smile—because apparently, I want to get wrecked today.
"Why?" I tilt my head, all sweet venom. "Scared I’ll hurt your feelings?"
The second the words leave my mouth, his energy shifts, and something darker slips in under the surface.
He moves.
Fast.
I take a step back without thinking—only for the bookshelf to stop me cold as solid wood hits my spine.
What I should do and what I actually do, are two wildly different things I’ll shame-spiral about later.
He shifts closer, enough that I have to tilt my chin up to keep our eyes locked. To hold my ground.
"You like playing with fire, I see?"
The words are a dark murmur slipping under my skin like smoke. Stoking something hot and reckless. Soaking me in seconds.
A rational person would be careful here, and choose their words wisely, then back away.
Not me.
I blame it on the mood I woke up in, on the lack of sleep, or on the way his voice slides between my legs like a sin I’ll confess to later.
I smirk, letting my gaze drag over the sharp line of his jaw, those dark eyes, and the mouth that’s probably ruined women for life.
Instead, I feed the fire.
"You think you’re the fire?"My voice is all syrup and venom. "That’s cute."
His eyes darken and my pulse stutters. Before I can breathe, his fingers grip my chin with just enough pressure to send a violent, traitorous shiver ripping down my spine.
And just like that—I’m fucking gone.
Fuck him.
Fuck him for looking like that and standing there like he already owns me. Like he knows exactly how bad I want him, and how hard I’m fighting not to show it.
My jaw tightens and I grit my teeth, clinging to the last threads of control, trying to force down the heat pooling between my legs, and the need crawling up my spine like a live wire.
I know he sees it by the smirk that deepens, turning dark.
The space between us vanishes like it was never there. His mouth crashes onto mine but it’s not a kiss—it’s a goddamn wildfire. His fingers twist into my hair, yanking just hard enough to make me gasp—and he swallows it like it’s his fucking favorite sound.
Then he pulls back, just enough to breathe against my lips.
“Wonder if he knows how easy you break.”
The words scrape at something raw inside me. I should ask what the hell that means. Who he’s talking about, but I don’t.
I don’t even pull away. Instead, I kiss him back—hard and desperate.
Whatever it meant—I don’t care. Not right now.
The voice of reason tries to surface with all the reasons this is a terrible idea. Every red flag, every line he’s already crossed. But I shove that voice way down. Right next to the one that said I shouldn’t let him touch me in the first place.
His hands slide down, gripping my thighs—and suddenly, I’m airborne. He lifts me like I weigh nothing, setting me on a nearby rolling ladder I didn’t even notice. Pinning me there with the full weight of his body, the scent of him wraps around me like smoke and heat and destruction.
