“You’ve no clue what you do to me, Anna.”

Oh, I think I have an idea.

I’m not sure who moved forward first but it didn’t matter. What mattered was the complete softness of how our lips met. I could feel his tentativeness, and how he held back.

“It’s okay, Kai,” I whispered. “We’ll be careful.”

“I won’t let it go that far again,” he promised.

General disappointment settled inside my heart for all that we couldn’t have, but I nodded.

I scooted forward until our chests pressed together, wrapping my arms around his neck while his went around my back. We took our time, playfully spoiling each other’s lips with tenderness. And then I ran my tongue along his bottom lip, nipping him, just as he’d done to me on the Ferris wheel. This was met by a satisfying growl from the back of his throat as his mouth captured mine, kissing me so deeply that all thought disappeared and only sensation lived.

His grip tightened and he lifted me from the counter, forcing my legs to wrap around his waist and link behind his back.

“We’ll be careful,” he said, repeating what I’d told him.

“Yes,” I agreed against his mouth.

Our lips never parted as he walked us to the bedroom and laid us on the bed.

We kissed, rolling around with our limbs entwined, touching as much as we could possibly get away with. A glorious energy poured forth between us. I lost all track of time and the outside world.

People often referred to life in oceanic terms: a sea of possibility, plenty of fish in the sea. But it wasn’t that way for Nephilim. We were like fish kept in nets, expected to do the bidding of sharks or be eaten by them. The sea held no possibility for us. But here and now we found ourselves in a private tank without a shark in sight. It was tiny and temporary. We were buoyant.

When we stopped to breathe and look at each other, I giggled.

“Your hair,” I said. It was sticking up everywhere. I worked through it with my fingers, while he smiled down on me. “I love you,” I whispered.

He closed his eyes and pressed another silken kiss to my lips. As long as he kept kissing me like that, no words would be necessary.

We propped ourselves on our sides facing each other. One of my knees rested between his. I ran a hand through my own hair, which had become a nest in the back.

“Is this kind of . . . boring for you?” I asked him, feeling self-conscious.

“What?” His hand that was resting on my hip tensed. He almost looked offended.

I brushed imaginary lint from his shoulder. “I mean, you know, just kissing.”

“This is better than anything I’ve ever done.” His voice was soft and sincere. He pushed the long bangs from my eyes. “Besides, have you ever snogged yourself, luv? It’s brilliant.”

I laughed, hiding my face in his neck, and he chuckled, too.

“Why?” he asked, playing with my hair. “Are you bored? Seeing as how you’ve kissed so many lads now and all?”

I whipped my head up. “Ew, I don’t even want to talk about that. Those were gross and sloppy and—”

“No details please.”

“All right. How about this . . . I could kiss you all night, Kaidan Rowe.”

“That’s my plan,” he said.

We leaned in and stopped an inch away, interrupted by a persistent beeping coming from down the hall. My heart jumped before I placed the sound.

“Brownies in bed?” I asked. He actually stiffened and looked pained. “What’s wrong? Do you have a no-food-in-bed policy?”

“No. You’re just . . . turning me on with the whole Betty Crocker bit.” His eyes blurred as he seemed to be imagining something. I couldn’t picture anything sexy about me cooking.

I hit him with a pillow and he held up his palms in surrender.

“Maybe I’ll bring a glass of ice water in case I need to douse you,” I said, standing to go.

“Hurry back,” he called. “I’ll just be here . . . dreaming of you in an apron and oven mitt.”

I giggled at the absurdity of it. “You’re so easy,” I muttered.

His laughter followed me down the hall, and I basked in it. Right now, my sea had never been more beautiful.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

MINE

The only thing better than kissing Kaidan was kissing him between bites of warm brownie. I now understood the saying about love being like a drug. My body was alight. Though I wasn’t using my extended senses, they were on high alert from the buzzing, floating feeling coursing through my veins. I could see the danger of loving, because nothing else existed for me outside that room. Nothing else mattered. No Dukes or whisperers. No spiritual warfare. And certainly no reason why any soul would disapprove of a relationship that filled two people with such joy.

No. None of that was real. They were fleeting, distant nightmares pushed further away with each press of our lips, each gentle word spoken. We were together. We were alive.

I still couldn’t believe he was allowing this to happen. Letting me love him with my touches. Touching me back. Voracious touches.

Every now and then I’d feel him pull back from me when I’d push forward, keeping me at bay when I got carried away. At one point after I’d licked his earlobe, he closed his eyes and his forehead crinkled in a wince.

I bit my lip. “I’m sorry.”

I mean, really, it would be hard for normal guys, so it had to be especially hard for him.