Page 118 of When Hearts Collide
“Just the way I like it. How did you know I was craving hot chocolate right now?”
The grin slowly slips away and his gray eyes turn darker.
He murmurs, “I notice everything about you. The three freckles right underneath your right ear. Your love for jalapeños even though you can’t tolerate the spiciness. How you spend the first ten minutes in bed facing the ceiling, but you can’t fall asleep until you shift to your right side. You prefer natural essential oils over perfume, but I haven’t figured out the exact combination yet.”
He chuckles under his breath and shakes his head. “I’ve tried multiple combinations of vanilla and jasmine with other scents, but it’s still missing something.”
My heart thumps in a victory lap in my chest.
“It’s chamomile,” I whisper. “You’re missing the chamomile. I get stressed easily, and it helps me relax.”
“Chamomile,” he repeats, his voice serious, and gives me a nod, like he’s memorizing the password to his bank account.
My heart hiccups again. How can I not love him? It’s impossible.
Ryland sits down next to me on the long wicker sofa and places his mug on the table in front of us. He tucks the thick blanket tightly around my shoulders.
His brilliant gaze is intent on mine. “It’s normal to want to know everything about the person you love.”
He takes my hands in his and gently rubs the chill away from my fingers. Then he cups them to his mouth and blows a warm breath before continuing, “It’s like second nature, Millie. Wanting to know everything about you, the woman I shouldn’t be involved with yet desperately needing, like my body requires oxygen and sustenance.”
The ache inside my chest resurfaces. It hurts to hear him beat himself up. I want to shake him and yell, you deserve happiness and so do I. Why shouldn’t we be together? But I don’t because he’s not ready yet and if I press him too hard, I’m afraid he’ll end what we have.
“You have no idea how much I need you, my little lark.” Ryland’s eyes flicker up, a wet sheen appearing in those deep gray pools.
“You give me life. You give me oxygen. You’re the sunshine to my storm. You’re my freedom,” he rasps, his voice hoarse.
“Ryland,” I whisper. I shiver, but it’s not from the cold.
Climbing on top of his lap, I hold his face in my hands, my fingers trailing over the hard edges and rough planes, his five o’clock shadow longer than usual. I press my lips to his, savoring the taste of hot chocolate in his mouth.
My pulse is a heavy drum in my ears, my heart bursting with emotions as a sultry heat flows through my body, warming me up instantly.
Our kiss turns passionate. He clutches the nape of my neck, his tongue invading my mouth, taking, giving, tasting, each swipe an aphrodisiac to my veins.
Letting out a moan, I press closer, needing this man more than I need anything else in the world. His alluring scent of the woods inflames my senses. Nipping his lip, I relish in the guttural hiss from his mouth and the digging of his fingers on my back.
His erection hardens beneath me and my nipples bead in answer. I rub my body against him, every scrape of his chest against mine sending shivers to my belly, every gyration of my hips over the outline of his cock hitting my clit at a tortuous angle, dragging moans from both of our mouths.
Ryland groans and hoists me up as he stands, his hands palming my ass. He pulls back briefly and cocks his brow, our harsh breathing sounding loud in the air.
“It ended yesterday. I’m good now,” I reply, answering the unasked question in his eyes.
His nostrils flare and he seals his lips with mine again, his nips, licks, and suctions growing more desperate and wilder with each step he takes toward the bedroom.
By the time he tosses me on the bed, my pussy is wet and achy, my body seconds away from combusting.
Using one hand, Ryland tugs off his shirt in a smooth motion, his defined pecs and abs rippling with the motion.
My mouth dries.
His gaze is incinerating, a dark flame in his eyes, like he wants to devour me whole.
The pulsing between my legs intensifies. I scoot back on the bed and rise to my knees, my hands automatically taking off the large sleep shirt I have on.
“Fuck,” he rasps, his gaze traveling over my heaving tits, my belly, my hips clad in a pair of black lacy underwear.
My tongue swipes my parched lips as I keep my focus on him and slowly drag the lace down my legs before tossing it to the floor.
