Severine remained still.
The sharp sting on her shoulder faded into a dull, pulsing heat that seemed to radiate through her entire body.
"Don't," she said, her voice breathy. "Don't tease me."
"Who said I am teasing you?"
Killian's hand easily slipped under her shirt, rolling over her navel, tracing the lines of her torso before halting right under the swells of her chest.
He rubbed his head against her like a puppy, his dark hair brushing against her pink-tinted cheek.
His eyes, usually cold and detached, were now molten pools of shadow and red.
"I think I'm being very, very serious, Severine. I want to feel you."
His thumb grazed the underside of her breasts—just a gentle brush, as if testing her response.
In response, her pale fingers curled around his forearm in a silent plea, and his smile widened into a dark, predatory grin.
"You will let me, won't you?" His low voice vibrated through her marrow, sending a fresh wave of tremors through her limbs.
