“You okay? This okay?" I nod, pulling his hips more tightly to my own."Now we'll make it better," Jase vows, and begins to kiss me again as he starts to move in a rhythm. My body follows, unwilling to let him go, already glad to have him come back.”

“Okay. I'll deal with Benjamin. You're safe, okay? Nothing's gonna happen." His mouth pulled tight against itself. And now I was having some sort of heart attack. Because when he looked at me like that, my chest started to feel like it was turned inside out. "Promise."And that—the promise, the way he said it with utter certainty—was enough to make me tear up again.”

“He smiles sadly. "Now I know my destiny.""What is it?""This."He draws me in to him in a kiss. His lips are warm. He pulls me tighter in his embrace. The roots sigh and release their hold on my waist and the wound in my side is healed. "Kartik," I cry, kissing his cheeks. "It's let me go.""That's good," he says. He makes a small cry. His back arches, and every muscle in his body tightens.”

“I kissed him, let him kiss me, let him clutch my hips, curl his fingers into the fabric of my shirt, slide his hands around my waist and splay them against my back, pull me infinitesimally closer. He made a sound, a growl or purr, some predatory noise that rumbled in his throat, then said my name. And this time, it wasn’t a question but a sound of victory, a claim on his prize.”

“He grabs my hands and lifts them up in the air. I grip the railing on the top of the bed."Don’t move those hands," he whispers into my nape. I nod and lick my lips. I'm on my tiptoes. My breath is catching and coming out spurts of rough air. His hands run down my arms. I shiver and pant. His lips brush the back of my neck. He sweeps my hair to one side, kissing down my shoulder blade. Heat and nerves battle low in my belly as his hands grip my hips, pulling me back to him."Don't let go of that railing, Sarah." His words are growled between kisses and licks. I hear the menacing threat in them.”

“Ah yes…” He made an exaggerated nod. “I was supposed to be filling you in on Nangí’s story.” He winked at me playfully, as I kept up my glare. “Now, where should I begin?”“Tell you what, let me get you started,” I came back. “Once upon a time, there was this über-creepy old man—who looks like he lives in a haunted shack and eats small children for breakfast—and I decided to make him my new best friend becaaauuse… Okay, your turn.”