"So, what now?" I asked quietly.
"I won't apologize for what happened between us before," Dion stated absolutely. “You needed it. I needed it."
I gazed at his implacable face, but in an odd way his complete surety settled me. "What does that mean, though?"
Dion's expression didn't change. "It means we keep exploring us."
"You're very sure there is an us." I lifted my chin, and he stepped forward, his arms going around me.
"I am. You're mine, Emily Carter. All of you."
I gaped. "Bossy, much?" But holy hell, his confidence was such a turn on and the distraction I probably needed.
"I'm sure about us," Dion said, his voice dropping to that deep rumble that made my knees weak. "I've known since I first saw you."
I should have scoffed. Should have pulled away. This was insane—we barely knew each other. But something in his eyes, in the certainty of his touch as his hands settled on my waist, made the memory of what we'd shared maybe the only truth I'd admitted to myself in a long time.
"What if it's a mistake?" I whispered, even as I leaned into him.
"You know it isn't." He brushed a strand of hair from my face, his touch feather-light. "But for me, everything about us just feels right."
I couldn't argue because I knew he was correct. I couldn't find words as he lowered his head, his lips hovering just above mine.
"If you need me to stop, tell me," he murmured, his breath warm against my skin.
I should have. But instead, I closed the distance between us, pressing my lips to his.
The kiss started gentle, tentative, but quickly blazed into something more urgent. His arms tightened around me, pulling me flush against his body as his mouth claimed mine. I melted into him, my hands sliding up his chest to clutch at his shoulders.
When we finally broke apart, both breathing hard, Dion rested his forehead against mine. "Still think it's a mistake?" he asked, a hint of smugness in his voice.
"Probably," I admitted. "But I don't care anymore."
He chuckled, the sound vibrating through his chest. "That's a good girl."
His words sent a shiver of pleasure through me.Good girl.It shouldn't have felt so right, so natural, but it did.
"Come with me," he said, taking my hand.
I let him lead me out of my room, where Barnaby sat waiting, to his bedroom where I'd stayed the first night. At the threshold, I hesitated. "Dion, I—"
"Let me take care of you."
That simple statement said it all and I followed him inside.
When his fingers found the hem of my shirt, I lifted my arms obediently, allowing him to pull it over my head. His eyes darkened as he took in the sight of me in my simple cotton bra.
"Beautiful," he murmured, running his hands down my sides.
I shivered under his touch, suddenly shy despite loving his touch. "Your turn," I whispered.
Dion smiled, pulling his shirt off in one fluid motion. I'd seen him partially dressed before, but now I allowed myself to truly look—to appreciate the defined muscles, the intricate tattoos that decorated his arms and chest.
"See something you like?" he asked, his voice teasing but with an underlying command that made my pulse quicken.
"Yes," I admitted, reaching out to trace one of the tattoos with my fingertip.
He caught my wrist, bringing my hand to his lips. "On the bed," he directed, his tone gentle but leaving no room for argument.
