"So much fight in you." I stroke her hair back away from her face and clutch her jaw in my hand, forcing her gaze upward. "I am glad to see you have not been broken yet."

The words sound like too much of an admission, and I can see the confusion in her eyes when she peeks up at me from beneath her lashes. "I thought that was exactly what you wanted."

"That is the least of what I want," I threaten, guiding her body back into the room until her legs hit the bed behind her.

"I am tired." She closes her eyes and shudders as I lean into her, grazing her neck with my lips. "Please. I don't want to fight."

"Then don't." I seize the opportunity when her eyes are closed to force my lips to hers, startling her.

Her lips fall apart, and her eyes fly open as I kiss her deeply, curling my arm around her waist and bunching the fabric of her nightgown in my fist.

My other hand moves up to cover her eyes, obscuring her vision as I tilt her head backward and give in to the temptation to devour her lips, if only for a moment.

She's breathing hard against my chest, nipples scraping against her nightgown, body arched so beautifully, I could witness her like this for an eternity and never be satisfied.

As I deepen the kiss, her hands come up to mine, nails digging into my skin. She wants me to believe she doesn't like this, but her body tells me otherwise. And when I release my grip on her waist to slide my fingers down between her thighs, she jolts at the touch.

She's breathless and gasping for air when I finally let go of her mouth and dip her head back even farther to kiss her throat, nipping at the fragile skin.

"Santiago," she croaks.

I'm teasing her, even as she tries to squeeze her thighs together around my fingers. Taking her tonight is out of the question, but I am compelled to touch her simply for her pleasure. A notion I don't want to examine too closely. It is only a momentary weakness. That's what I tell myself when I turn her around and hoist her body up onto the bed, yanking her hips up and forcing her facedown into the blankets as I kneel behind her.

"Santiago," she begins again but abruptly falls silent when my nose glides along her slit.

She nearly jolts out of her skin, sucking in a sharp breath as I hold her hips in place and really taste her for the first time. The first lash of my tongue produces a cascade of goose bumps along her skin, and the second has her fists curling into the blankets.