Dee

“My house. My chair. My woman.”
― Rebecca Yarros, Iron Flame

“His thumbs stroke over the soft skin under my ears, and his gaze drops before he suddenly lets go and retreats a full step. 'Damn it. Touching you was a bad idea.'

'The worst.' I agree, but my tongue skims my lower lip.

He groans and my core melts at the sound. 'Kissing you would be a cataclysmic mistake.'

'Calamitous.' What would it take to hear that groan again?

The inches between us feel like kindling, ready to burn at the first suggestion of hear, and I'm a living, breathing flame. This is everything I should run from, and yet denying the primal attraction I feel is completely, utterly impossible.

'We'll both regret it.' He shakes his head, but there's more than hunger in his eyes as he stares at my lips.

'Naturally,' I whisper. But knowing I'll regret it doesn't stop me from wanting it- wanting him. Regretting is a problem for future Violet.

'Fuck it.'

One second he's out of reach and the next his mouth is on mine, hot and insistent.

Gods, yes. This is exactly what I need.”
― Rebecca Yarros, Fourth Wing