TAVRIC
She fights me.
My princess claws against my hold, her small frame twisting against the brand of my lips, but I am done with distance. My left arm snakes around her waist, keeping her flush against me, while my other hand abandons its post at her head for a more tactical strike.
I pinch the sensitive skin of her neck—just so—and she gasps in pure surprise. That tiny opening is all I need. I push my tongue into her mouth, capturing hers in a dance that is just as dizzying and consuming as before.
Within seconds, the hands that were punching my chest lose all their fire. They slip into my hair and pull me closer with a frantic strength I'm already starting to crave.
"Tavric…" she moans as I ease back a fraction to let her breathe.
I don't give her the chance. I angle her lips better and dive back in, intent on making her regret every syllable of that rejection. I want to drown her in my scent, to sear this moment into her soul until she takes it all back—every word.
