I’d almost forgotten what we’d been discussing. His eyes skittered over my face, zeroing in on my mouth. This close, his smoky, leather scent struck me like a tidal wave, threatening to undo my resolve. I set my jaw stubbornly.
“Obviously,” I gritted out.
His mouth twitched. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re quite adorable when you’re angry?”
“Has anyone ever told you that you’re an insufferable bastard?” I fired back.
His grin only grew. “Yes, in fact, I have been told that, on more than one occasion. But thank you for reminding me,” he said softly, his breath a whisper skittering over my skin.
I inhaled sharply. This close, I could count two freckles on his left cheek. The scent of him was fogging my mind, my thoughts drifting into dangerous territory. I felt intoxicated by his proximity. Like a drug injected directly into my veins, his essence raced through my bloodstream. I wanted him to kiss me, but at the same time, the desire to punch him in the ribs in retaliation for teasing me was almost overwhelming. Most of all, I felt like a coward for backing down. I had been trying to ask him out, but his amusement had been more than I could bear. He could be such an asshole, and it brought out the worst in me.
“Do you always have to be such a prick?” I choked out.
Every ligament and muscle in my body went liquid as his hand reached out to rest against my neck, just above the pulse point. My skin burned at the contact, and I swallowed nervously against his hand, my breath hitching in my throat as he tucked a stray curl behind my ear.
My mouth went dry. “We should go soon, before we get caught,” I babbled, trying to think around his overwhelming presence. The echo of mortification from his earlier rejection in the dormitory still lingered in my stomach.
“We won’t get caught,” he said, an insouciant smile playing across his lips. He was in no hurry to leave this little alcove of the library, it seemed.
“Why now?” I asked. Why did you reject me before?
He shrugged. “I decided I’m going to have a difficult time keeping things professional after all.” His thumb traced along my jaw and came to rest on my lips, his eyes fixed on my mouth.
My entire world narrowed to the six inches of space that remained between us. My blood heated as his gaze skewered me. No one had ever looked at me the way he was looking at me.
His eyes were pointed blades that might, at any moment, pierce through my flesh and dissect my darkest thoughts. After all, he could delve into my head whenever he wanted to…
“Is this a glamour?” I rasped out, trying to remember what we were even talking about, my words slipping through my fingers like grains of sand.
His fingers curled around my neck to entwine themselves in my hair. I hardly noticed my back pressing into the bookshelf behind us.
He leaned in, breathing the words against my skin and making me shudder. “You know it’s not.” And then he pressed his lips to the hollow of my throat, and my flesh burst into flames.
It felt like my brain was short-circuiting.
He continued, pressing me up against the bookshelves until our bodies were flush, murmuring, “But I should punish you for trying to make my life more difficult at every fucking turn.”
I clung to the bookshelf like an anchor, desperate to guard myself against his intoxicating proximity. But as his hand snaked its way around my waist, the other curling in my hair, my eyelids fluttered closed on a sigh.
I should be afraid of him, I thought dimly. Why wasn’t I afraid of him?
“You let someone else brand you. Someone other than me,” he growled, his teeth dragging across my throat.
I whimpered as his lips kissed away the hurt. I felt a pulse low in my abdomen. “S-so?” came my weak retort.
“So,” he murmured against my skin, his lips tracing my neck and up to linger over the shell of my ear. “You don’t belong to him.”
I scoffed, but it came out sounding breathier than I would’ve liked. “I don’t belong to you either.”
He drew back to meet my gaze, the black of his pupils absorbing the brown until they were wholly dark. “No?” he challenged, and then resumed his exploration of my ear and jawline. He laughed against my lips. “We’ll see about that.”
Before I could bite out a retort, his lips slanted over mine. When I remained stubbornly still, refusing to kiss him back, he pulled at my lower lip, nipping it with his teeth. The pain was enough of a shock that I gasped, and he took advantage of my mistake to delve his tongue into my mouth. He swallowed my involuntary groan, and my face grew hot with the shame of my response.
There was something alchemical—something akin to magic in his kisses, and I couldn’t fight what my body craved a moment longer. He was kissing me, and I was kissing him back, and the only thing I could think was that I wanted him closer. I clawed my nails against his scalp, hard enough to hurt. To punish him. He hissed and pulled back, only to smirk down at my triumphant expression.
“Sometimes, I really do hate you,” I whispered against his lips before I finally succumbed to my need for him.
“I know,” he said, and leaned in to kiss me again.