When she opened her eyes, Killian leaned over her, his eyebrows pinched together with worry. His eyes golden even in the low light. He really was all golden and beautiful.
She reached up to run her finger along his jawline. She could feel stubble, a rough and sensual friction against her fingertips.
“You’d make a nice fiancé,” she murmured more to herself than him.
He remained still, letting her stroke him.
“You are very beautiful,” she whispered.
Killian caught her hand then and lowered it to her side. He straightened and began working on getting her boot on. She remained lounging back against the railing as she felt his large, strong hand on her ankle, lifting her foot, slipping the boot on.
“It’s like you are Prince Charming,” she said, then giggled.
“Hardly.” She could hear the derision in his voice. Derision that was clearly aimed at himself.
She levered herself up, still feeling light-headed, but able to focus. Well, occasionally there were two of him, but that wasn’t really a bad thing.
“You don’t think you are the gallant type?”
He looked up from zipping her boot. “Definitely not.”
“Are you a cad? A scoundrel?”
He smiled at that, the slight twist of his lips making him look deliciously roguish. “Now that would be more accurate.”
He held out his hand to her and she placed hers in it without hesitation. He helped her to her feet, making sure she stood slowly. Clearly, he did not trust her to maintain her balance. She swayed. Probably a good decision. Looping an arm around her, he anchored her against his side. She fit right in the crook of his arm and shoulder, and she couldn’t stop herself from resting her head against his chest.
Their progress was slow, because walking seemed to be terribly tricky.
“So why would I marry a scoundrel?” she asked once she’d gotten the rhythm of their gait.
“That is a good question,” he said, and while she couldn’t take her eyes away from the sidewalk—at least not without the real risk of breaking something—she could still tell he was smiling.
“Although,” he added, “scoundrels can be a lot of fun.”
Poppy didn’t doubt that. Despite the ups and downs of the evening, she had to admit it was the most fun she’d had for a long time.
“Especially that kiss.”
“You liked the kiss, huh?” he said.
She giggled at her admission. Well, she had discovered one thing tonight. Wine made her very loose- lipped.
“It was nice,” she said, although her fuddled mind wanted to say much more than that. But somehow she kept the other comments reined in. Words like:
“I liked it too.”
Forgetting her need to focus, she glanced at him.
He smiled back, although that beautiful smile didn’t last long, as she tripped and he scrambled quickly to catch her.
She wondered if Killian ever missed.
“Careful,” he said, slowing his pace even more.
She nodded and was relieved when she saw the front door of their apartment building. He helped her up the steps and straight to the elevator.
Once inside, she leaned in the corner, wishing she could just slide down the wall and sit. She wanted to sit. She leaned her head back and closed her eyes.
Her jumbled thoughts moved on to other things she’d like to do. Take off these boots. Lie down. Sleep.
She opened her eyes, just a little, but enough to see Killian standing nearby, watching her.
She’d like to lie down with him. Sleep with him. Do more than sleep with him. He was her fiancé, after all.
She giggled.
“What?” he asked, confused but smiling.
She shook her head, which wasn’t good. She splayed her arms out to her sides to balance herself. Again Killian was right there, hands on her waist, holding her up.
“You are drunk, imp.” She could hear laughter in his deep voice.
“Imp?”
He smiled. “You are definitely an imp.”
“I picture imps having big ears.”
He chuckled. “Well, you are a cute imp. And your ears appear to be regular size.”
She smiled up at him, only to realize how very close he was. His body nearly pinned her in the corner of the elevator as his hands remained at her hips.
Her breasts suddenly ached, feeling heavier, fuller. Her nipples felt sensitive against the satiny material of her bra. And the delicious ache crept lower and lower, centering between her thighs until she felt swollen and needy, her body begging for release from the slow, building yearning.
“If you are going to be my believably wicked scoundrel fiancé, shouldn’t you practice doing things that are naughty and depraved?”
Had she really just said that? She had. And it felt good.
Killian hesitated for a second, but his gaze locked on her parted lips. He nodded.
“Yes, I suppose I should.”
He lowered his head, his lips brushing slowly over hers, his large body pinning her against the cold metal of the elevator wall.
She moaned. Heaven.
Killian told himself he shouldn’t. But Poppy looked so adorably wanton, her arms spread against the elevator wall. Her eyes half closed, sultry. Her pink lips parted, inviting.
He had to steal a taste. But now, a quick sample seemed impossible. Their kiss had turned into a slow, long savoring of each other. Her lips clung to his, his body rolling against hers. Their movements unrushed, but no less filled with desperate hunger.
Then one of her hands left the wall to stroke his back, running up and down its length until she found the hem of his shirt and slipped her fingers under the cotton.
Small fingers shaped to the muscles of his back, smoothing over his hot skin.
He groaned, that simple touch igniting him. He pinned her harder to the elevator wall. One of his hands left her waist, sliding down her outer thigh to hook his hand around her knee.
He lifted her leg so it was curled around the back of his thigh and he was wedged tighter against her. Their bodies ground against each other. And the slow, sensual kissing took on a frenzied passion.
With his hand still anchored beneath her knee, his other hand found the hem of her sweater, snaking underneath, caressing the velvety skin of her stomach. Up higher and higher to tease the underside of her breast.
He cupped her, feeling the hard prod of her erect nipple through lace. He flicked his thumb over it, and she gasped into his mouth. He did it again and received another gasp.
Her breath become his own. One. One.
He froze, something akin to fear dousing the desire coursing through him.
This wasn’t right. Not with her drunk. Not with him here to find her a man. And especially not with his being a demon.
She deserved better.
He eased her leg down and stepped away from her, careful to make sure she didn’t fall.
She swayed but remained on her feet.
“I think we should get you home.”
She pouted, her expression utterly cute, but he forced himself to ignore that fact.
