I grunt and fold my arms over my chest. “You’re complaining about it pretty loudly right now.”

“No, I’m complaining about your attempt to eat my face. That was completely absent of passion.”

“And now you’re insulting my kissing skills.”

“I would be … if that was kissing.”

I finally look over at him again. “Then what the hell do you call it?”

“A personal attack on attraction everywhere?”

I humpf and turn away again. “Well, if that’s how you feel, I’ll just take my attraction somewhere it’s appreciated.”

“I don’t think that place exists, Perry.”

I’m about to get up and storm out of the room when St. Clare pulls me back onto the bed almost as fast as I stand. Then he throws one leg over my waist, straddling my thighs, and like that, I’ve forgotten everything I was supposed to be doing.

My hands are up in front of me like a busted perp, and my jaw is down somewhere around my aching balls.

He smirks, a light breaking through the deep offense I’m riddled with, and when he takes my hands and sets them on his hips, I finally remember how to swallow.

“You are way too high-strung,” he murmurs, gaze settled back on my mouth. “And you have an abnormally large Adam’s apple.”

“Are you insulting me again?”

“No. It just means you can’t swallow around me, ever, because it’s a kink I wasn’t aware I had before, and every time you do it, it makes me want to lick your throat.”

I’m still in complete shock when I do it again.

St. Clare groans. “Don’t test me.”

This time, I do it on purpose.

He jerks my head upward before his wet tongue finds my collarbone and slides tortuously up my neck. When his lips dip back by my ear, his voice is huskier than before. “I could lick every single inch of you, and it wouldn’t be enough.”

Mentally, I’m imagining him doing just that. A roadmap of his mouth’s expedition as it passes over the most sensitive areas.

My grip on his hips tightens as St. Clare kisses his way along my jaw. He’s getting closer to my mouth, teasing the thing I want most, and when he’s a whisper away, I turn my head so his mouth lands on mine.

Sweet relief fills everything from my ears to my toes, and St. Clare groans at the contact. The sound is so deep in his chest it rumbles against mine, and I want to steal that sound from him and play it on repeat forever.