Fangs, Fate & Other Bad Decisions novel Chapter 24

Chapter 24

Afraid to move, afraid to even breathe, i stand here as I listen to his heart beat a similar rhythm as my own.

What the fuck just happened? Why the hell did I decide to kiss him first? Do I need to be admitted to an insane asylum?

The answer isn’t rational, but it is honest. Simply put, I wanted to.

I’ve been contemplating kissing him since our moment earlier in the kitchen as we stood by the sink. And every moment since we have shared has added to the ever–increasing craving I was developing to kiss him, taste him, and explore this thing between us that I’m having trouble putting a name to

In those first few seconds after I crashed my lips to his and he froze, I feared I had made a monumental mistake by thinking he might feel the same way about me. That the looks he had been giving me up until now were figments of my imagination, and I needed to get tested for schizophrenia. That I would have to change my identity, move to another country, and live off the land like a nomad

But then he moved, and I knew without a shadow of a doubt that my life would never be the same again.

He fused his lips to mine as if he was afraid he’d never be offered the opportunity to kiss me ever again. Then he pulled me closer as his strong Jarm banded around my back, and I lost the last shred of hope I had of walking away from him,

He didn’t ask. He didn’t wait. He kissed me like he owned the moment,

It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t sweet. It was molten, desperate, and filled with a hunger that poetry was written about.

It wasn’t a kiss. It was a confession. A promise. A warning.

It was brutal in its honesty,

v, with no hesitation or restraint.

It was absolute madness. It was everything I had been denying up until then. And fuck me, I didn’t want it ever to stop.

And when he just called me ‘My Little Menace, it was the final nail in the coffin that was my resolve to stay as far away from him as humanly possible. Because, up until now, he’s called me “Little Menace‘ and even ‘Little Flame‘ a few times.

But this time, it was different. He called me his. It was his claim on me I never signed up for, but one I inexplicably wasn’t willing to revoke.

“Ask me to stay,” he softly says into the space between us as we’re frozen in this moment of not knowing what comes next. It isn’t a question or request, nor truly a demand, but more like a statement of fact.

And chalking it up to me having the living daylights kissed out of me mere seconds ago, I acquiesce by giving him a slight nod

But, as I’ve learned in our short period of time coming to know each other, when this man gives an order or asks for something, he expects it to be followed to the letter. This is confirmed with his next words, which are still spoken softly but have that inherently power filled tone: “Ask me, my Little Flame. I need to hear the words.”

“Stay, please,” is the only two words my kiss–addled brain cans string together, but it seems to satisfy him nonetheless, as a growl of approval vibrates from his chest and into my soul. Equal parts settling and igniting the core of who I am

With a tender kiss on my forehead, he slowly pulls away but never truly loses contact with me as he gently glides the hand laced in the hair in the nape of my neck down towards my shoulder, down my arm, ending at my hand, where he intertwines our fingers. Then he starts stepping backwards towards the living room while pulling me with him.

I’ve never been the kind of woman who ran when their man called, who asked how high when he said jump, or who cut their hair because he didn’t like it long. And I refused to be physically led around like a horse on a lead rope out for a canter around the arena, which was what, in my personal opinion, holding hands in public felt like.

Yes, I changed somewhat when I was with Steven to feel less “different when we were together or around his friends. I spoke in a more ladylike

I tone, didn’t swear in front of him, and wore clothes when we went out that I wouldn’t be caught dead in on a typical day of lazing around the house while I was alone.

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