He blinked at her. “You want . . . what?”
“Not what.You.”
“I don’t understand.” He didn’t want to understand. If she said marriage . . . Christ . . .
“I want to make this choice, not out of obligation, out of necessity, but because I want to. I want you. I want you in a way a man wants a woman.”
“Hell and damnation, woman. What am I to say to this?” How could he deny her?
“Say yes or say no.” A pause. “Can you? Can you give me this?”
God, no.
He’d fought so hard, and failed even harder, to keep his distance. This...
“Yes, I can give you this.”
Chapter Twelve
Then I shalltake it.
Rosilee had never been a prude. Nor was she entirely innocent. She knew what happened between a man and a woman. There were enough books on the subject, and there was also a very, very intriguing book her brother had once purchased filled with different positions ofthatnature.
Itwaspart of nature.
Which was why this setting was so perfect. Which was why she wanted to act boldhere.
Now.
At their spot. Their haven.
Rosilee pressed herself up against him as much as she could, wanting the heat of their bodies to fuse together.
This feels so, so right.
The night air was cool against her skin, and she’d always loved the smell of earth, damp from the evening dew.
But nothing compared to him.
His scent was different—masculine, clean, with a hint of soap and worn leather, yet still earthy, but in a more untamed way. Like a storm waiting to break. She could almost taste the lightning of his breath.
The two of us following each other? Who would lead?
They could both lead.
With their hearts.
But she hadn’t been able to say this. Hadn’t fully sat with all that was brewing in her heart, even for herself. For now, she could only show him, and pray he listened and answered the same.
“You taste like heaven,” he breathed against her lips.
“The feeling is mutual, Duke.”
His teeth grazed her lower lip. “Blake. The feeling is mutual, Blake.”
“Blake...” She would have purred his name if she could have.
“I must have been mistaken,” he muttered in a pained tone. “You are a witch, not an angel.” His gaze bore into hers. “Now is the time to run.”
