“Hey,” I whisper, picking up his chin. Those black eyes gaze at me with such intensity. “I didn’t mean to bring you down. It’s okay. We’ll just hang out.”

“I was too busy planning my escape to think ahead,” he admits. “A classic tactical blunder.”

In that moment, he looks so vulnerable. I want to take him into my arms and protect him in this apartment forever. I want to hide him away from everyone who ever told him he’s not allowed to feel what he needs to feel.

And then, because I’m a horrible person with no self-control, I lean forward and kiss him. It’s a soft and chaste peck that lasts for only a moment, but it feels wonderful. When I pull away, he appears shocked.

“What is this?” he asks, lifting a finger to touch his own lips.

I can’t help but laugh. “It’s a kiss, silly.”

His eyes light with acknowledgment. “Ah, yes. I have read about them in reference to a few cultures. I should have known. This kiss appears in all the most basic descriptions of human mating practices,” he states. “I can’t say I understand why it is a method for increasing sexual excitement bec—”

I cover his mouth with mine and press against him gently, letting him grow accustomed to the feeling. His arms snake around me, trapping me close. I tilt my head and break for a moment, to open my eyes and see his face. He swirls with both surprise and utter bliss. I can’t get enough of this fascinating man. His reactions thrill me. A simple kiss is new to him. My stomach flutters just watching him process it.

“I’m sorry,” I say. “I couldn’t help it. We should probably stop. Maybe we should just… watch a movie. Have you ever seen an Earth movie?”

His grip tightens. “Just one more kiss,” he says, a coy smile appearing. “Then we’ll do as you say.”

I guess it’s a universal truth—every male life form is ready to bargain for any favor he can get. I chuckle.

“Okay,” I agree. I kiss him, again starting slow and chaste. But soon, I’m ready for more, opening my lips to slip my tongue into his mouth. He opens for me, with a groan of surprise. I sweep my tongue across his, tasting something bittersweet. I wasn’t expecting it, but it’s not unpleasant so I go on exploring his mouth, teasing him with my tongue.

My tongue begins to tingle with warmth, and the feeling spreads over me, skittering down the back of my neck, and all the way to my center. My lips slacken, and he takes control of our kiss. He dives between my lips hungrily, mimicking what I did to him, slicking more of that bittersweet flavor through my mouth. A sensation takes hold of me, like molten metal has replaced the blood in my veins. I am hot all over, and the feeling in every nerve seems to multiply. I feel it between my legs, and I moan into his lips. The sound eggs him on, and we kiss in a hurried daze. Suddenly, every slide of his tongue over mine feels like a shock of pleasure that electrifies every part of me.

I pull away, gasping for air. My thighs clench together. “Oh my God,” I say. “What just happened?”

“Did I do it wrong?” he asks with a brief flicker of concern. Then, his eyes widen. He snaps his hand to his mouth. “Ella—Oh, what have I done?”

“You didn’t do anything, I don’t think. I just feel so…” I trail off, my eyes drawn to his crotch. I need him. I need him now. It doesn’t matter what happens afterwards. He’s here, isn’t he? Why not enjoy myself?

“My tongue,” he says.

“Yes, it’s surprisingly talented for a first-time kisser,” I say, climbing into his lap. “It makes me wonder what else it can do.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, but I’m trying to tell you my tongue is secreting the aphrodisiac. I believe I’ve just given it to you,” he explains, attempting to extricate himself from me. He stands up and backs a few steps from the couch. “I didn’t know. Or I forgot. I didn’t realize… Please forgive me, Ella.”

I’m hot all over and I’m only vaguely aware that kissing him may have been a mistake. Oops. That realization is being pushed to the back of my mind, though. Because currently, at the front of my mind, is the flood of moisture between my legs, and the burning need to get my hands on Kila.

He watches me from feet away with apprehension, tensing up like I’m a rabid dog about to bite him.

“Forgive you?” I say, sitting up on my knees on the couch. “I’ll forgive you if you come back over here and keep kissing me.”

“This is all my fault,” he groans. “I shouldn’t have come here. Pakka was right. I’m unpredictable. I’m a danger to you. I should have known from the moment I woke up and—”

I am ripping my sweater off. It’s far too hot inside this damn apartment. I feel like I’m suffocating. “You should tell me what happened this morning,” I say, suddenly very certain I know exactly what happened. “I want to hear the rest of that story…”

“Ella, no!” he protests, but I see his eyes start to grow, the black circles widening at the sight of my exposed skin and cleavage. “Put your clothing back on. I don’t know what I’ll do.”

“I’d like to see what you’ll do,” I say, recklessly trying to tempt the beast.

“Maybe I should leave before it gets too bad,” he suggests, turning his head and using his hand as a blinder shield. “I have no idea how long the effects will last.”

He is looking away, so I decide it wouldn’t be too reckless to give in to the overwhelming need to touch myself. The arousal that’s building is not the delicate tingle of desire that I am accustomed to. It’s a full-on throb between my legs, demanding to be relieved. I press my fingers over the seam of my pants and roll my hips. I moan, letting my eyes flutter shut. Even the lightest pressure feels amazing.

“Oh, no, no,” I say. When I look up again, he’s staring, transfixed. “If you leave me like this, I swear I’ll find someone else to help me.”

The eyes become blacker still, widening so that the whites are merely slivers at the edge of his irises. What was I thinking just a second ago? About not being reckless?

“You don’t like that idea, do you?” I taunt him, rubbing myself over my pants again.

A growl stirs from his chest. He backs all the way to the wall, where he bumps into the doorframe that leads to my bedroom.

“If you keep saying these things,” he rasps, “I think I will lose all control.”

“I think I’d like to see you lose control,” I purr. His body goes rigid as I begin to unbutton my black jeans and slide them down my hips. I stand up from the couch to finish the job, dropping them to the floor. I step forward in only my bra and panties. “Well, what will it be? Are you leaving?”

I pick up my phone from the coffee table between us. “Should I call another man? Or are you going to finish what you started with your tongue?”

That is all it takes to drive the last of the white from his eyes. He growls again, gritting his teeth. “No,” he snaps, marching forward. “Other men do not exist anymore.”

He confiscates my phone and chucks it. Then, he picks me up. I squeal with surprise as he hauls me onto his shoulder. “Where is your bed?” he barks.

“Mm,” I sigh, pointing at the door. “Your eyes are all black. Is this your beast mode? Are you going to take me now and claim me like you promised?”

He hauls open the door and tosses me onto the bed. I’m jittery with excitement. He needs to touch me, now. As soon as I’m lying on my back, I slide my hands into my panties and feel the wetness between my folds. God, I am so ready for him. Those white-less black eyes do not leave me as he takes a seat on the side of the bed. He leans over me and rests his forehead against mine. I roll my hips up, begging for his touch, just waiting for him to dip his fingers inside or caress me—anything at all.

“You will thank me,” he whispers. “And when I make you mine it will be not be a mistake.”

“Yes,” I hiss, circling my clit with my fingers. “Please touch me, Kila.”