One of my arms is trapped between our bodies, his chest pressed tightly against it. But I manage to roll myself onto my side to mirror him, and I use my free hand to cup the back of his head. He moans softly when my nails scratch along his scalp. And then he freezes, like he didn’t mean for the sound to escape him. But it did, and I can’t unhear it.

So I use my hold on his head to guide him back into kissing me. I shouldn’t be doing this, but the flames are growing hotter, and it’s like his tongue is both stoking the fire and putting it out at the same time.

I need him.

Need his tongue and his lips and his body against mine.

I kiss him like I want to devour him. Because I do.

It’s not until he bites my lip gently, then pulls back a bit, that I come to my senses and relinquish my hold on him. His fingers remain tangled in my shirt. It feels like an act of possessiveness, though I’m sure it’s not.

“That was... um.” His blue eyes bore into me as he struggles for words. He doesn’t look scared, but he looks... something.

I remind myself that he asked for this. I didn’t do anything wrong. Not technically. But damn, he probably wasn’t asking me to maul him. Although, to be fair, he kind of mauled me first.

He lets go of my shirt as he shifts backward, putting a bit of space between us. That seems to clear his head, and he nods decisively. “Right. So I think that was good. Believable, I mean. It was probably enough practice.”

“Yeah,” I agree, trying to calm my wildly racing heart.

“Well.” He bites his lip, and I instantly think of the perfect, slight twinge of pain when he did it to mine. “I’ll let you get to sleep now.”

“Yeah,” I say again, stupidly. Because what the hell else can I say?

I can’t tell him how much kissing him affects me. How it feels like so much more than practice. How I want it to be more, and it’s getting harder and harder to pretend that’s not the case.

I’ve wanted Brenden Sanderson for so damn long. And I’m afraid getting this taste of him, this tease, has opened the floodgates for me. I’m not sure I can hold back my desire any longer. But I’ll have to keep trying.

Because the last thing I want to do is ruin the relationship we have by pushing for something more, something that could never work anyway.

I’m having the best dream, a warm body in front of me, my cock rutting against supple ass cheeks. My hips keep rocking, seeking more, seeking entrance. Someone moans. Was it me?

My eyes fly open.