My eyes scrunched as I studied her. “So youpretendedyou were talking to a guy?”
“No. I pretended I was talking tosomeonebecause I didn’t want to talk to you. You’re the one who assumed it was a guy.”
When she scooted around me, I grabbed her arm and spun her to face me. “I’m sorry I hurt you.”
“Which time?”
“Every time.”
Brenna raised her chin. “Blanket apologies don’t cut it with me.”
I snaked my arm around her waist. “I’m sorry you thought I meant to humiliate you last night.”
“And?”
“That I accused you of cheating.”
“And?”
My eyes darted between hers. What else had I done? Shit. I couldn’t think of anything. “Uh…”
She tried to wriggle away, but I tightened my grip around her waist.
“For behaving like a Neanderthal? I’m not sure I can apologize for that.” I reached up and put my hand on the back of her neck. “Because the idea of you with another man drives me insane.”
“How do you think it is for me?”
“There isn’t anyone, and there won’t be.”
She scoffed. “Right.”
Rather than try to convince her with words she wouldn’t believe, I kissed her. No, I devoured her mouth with all the pent-up, frenzied longing I’d felt for far longer than the days we’d spent together. I’d wanted her for years, and I was done waiting. Brenna Austen was mine. Mine. And it was time she knew it.
I’d show her with my lips, my tongue, and every inch of my body.
When she groaned deep and low, I crushed her to me, then trailed kisses from her mouth to her neck. She tasted so fucking good, and I’d never get my fill of her.
“Atticus,” she murmured.
“If you’re going to tell me to stop?—”
She gripped my face when I looked up at her, then brought her mouth to mine. I plundered it, sucking her tongue as she drew me in. I reached under her and, without releasing her lips, carried her out of the kitchen, over to the stairs, and up to the bedroom, walking her backwards when I set her on her feet. When we collided with the mattress, I eased her down on it and used my knee to spread her legs so I could rest between them.
“Tell me this is what you want,” I murmured as I raised the hem of her shirt and kissed up the curve of her side.
“I want this.”
I raised the shirt higher and, through the lace of her bra, flicked her nipple with my tongue. “Be more specific.”
“I want you, Mason. I always have.”
My name on her lips made me want to roar. But first, I needed her to understand what this would mean. It wouldn’t be fucking. It would be the two of us joining more than our bodies together. If we did this, I had to know she’d be mine and no one else’s. Not now. Forever.
I pulled the cup of her bra out of my way and swirled her areola with my tongue and rested my hand on her other breast, pinching the nipple between my fingers.
Her back arched, and she grasped at my shoulders.
I raised my head. “Look at me, Brenna.”