Moonbound: 4. The Touch and the Bite

The fire’s glow threw long, shifting shadows across the cabin walls.

Sienna stood where he’d left her, back to the wall, her breath still uneven. She could hear him moving somewhere deeper inside — a low thud of boots on wood, the clink of metal, the faint rush of water.

Her mind screamed at her to find the door, but her legs wouldn’t move. It wasn’t fear holding her still. It was the way his presence clung to her like heat off a forge, sinking under her skin and into her blood.

When he came back, he’d shed his shirt.

The sight hit her like a blow — the hard planes of his chest, the defined muscle of his shoulders, the faint dusting of dark hair that drew the eye lower. A faint, jagged scar ran over his ribs, disappearing into the waistband of his jeans.

She swallowed. “You planning to keep me here all night?”

His mouth curved faintly. “At least.”

“At least?” she echoed, trying for sarcasm, but it came out softer than she intended.