Free When You Are Mine by Kennedy Ryan Page A

fine.”
    “I know.” Kerris reached up to stroke the back of his head.
    “I ended up spending the night, sleeping in the chair. I went downstairs to grab a muffin and some coffee. I was gone for only a minute, and when I came back in the room, all hell had broken loose.” His brows snapped together. “And they said…they said…”
    “Oh, Walsh.” Tears soaked her words. She leaned forward to hug him awkwardly, the edge of the bed separating them.
    He pulled her closer, forcing her to climb onto the edge of the bed on her knees. She pulled his head into the crook of her neck. His tears wet the shoulder of her denim jacket and her own tears trekked down her cheeks. She wanted to tear down the childish drawings on the walls. To pop the cheery balloons floating above them. To knock over the vases holding flowers from those who’d been pulling for Iyani. Instead, she just rocked back and forth as Walsh held her, for how long she didn’t know. His tears stopped, but she knew he was drawing as much solace from her as she was from the warm surrounding strength of his arms.
    “Are you okay?” She finally drew back just enough to see his face.
    Even though he sat in the center of the bed, legs crossed, and she was on her knees in front of him, his superior height left her only a few inches above him. Her arms hung loosely over the muscles of his broad shoulders. She stroked the closely cropped waves at the back of his head, soft and cool beneath her fingers. He dropped a thick fan of lashes over his grief-darkened eyes and lowered his forehead to her shoulder, turning into her neck. He inhaled.
    “Vanilla.” His warm breath misted her neck with that one word, inciting goose bumps across the skin. “You always smell like vanilla.”
    Her smile shook, and she started to pull away, but his hands tightened on her waist. He leaned up, tilting his head and brushing his firm lips across her slightly open mouth. At the brief contact, liquid fire rushed down her nerve endings. His kiss was a feather and a flame, raising goose bumps and heating her skin. Something blossomed in her chest, unfurling and straining toward him. She pressed closer, defenseless against sensations she’d never experienced with anyone before. One of Walsh’s strong hands left her waist, reaching for her chin to bring her face closer. The velvet of his tongue traced the still-drying tears on her cheeks before returning to her mouth, now clamped closed against the temptation of his.
    “Open.” Walsh gave the gentle command. An intimate invitation. An irresistible dare.
    Sanity was a fugitive on the run from reason. Her mouth fell open. He wasted no time, plunging in to plunder, devouring her with unchecked hunger. He groaned, sending the hand at her waist on an expedition across the curve of her hip to grip the firm sleekness of the bare thigh beneath her dress.
    “Kerris.” His voice seemed to have fallen octaves, its deep timbre inspiring her to shudder. “Tell me to stop.”
    “Stop.” Her hands made a lie of the weak plea. She pressed them to the strong vein in his neck. Urging him to continue. Pulling him closer.
    “Not very convincing,” he whispered, pulling her head down to hover over his open lips, luring her to close the space between their mouths.
    Heat crawled up between them, their lips and tongues tangling. Walsh reached up, fingers fumbling at the buttons of the denim jacket Kerris wore over her dress. The jacket fell open. Walsh reached one hand behind her to press the softness of her back, almost spanning the narrow expanse of it. His fingers slid under the spaghetti straps of the dress, caressing her shoulder, trailing down to stroke the soft curves beneath her dress. Her breasts tightened with a pleasure so acute it bordered on pain. Kerris gasped, pulling back abruptly. They both panted, his breath heavy and hot on her kiss-swollen lips, rising from the dying flame of that kiss.
    Her passion-clouded eyes slowly cleared. Sanity