Old habits die hard.
“What are you doing?” Wide, blue eyes stared at him, unsteady steps moving backward over fallen leaves. They crunched beneath her feet, the crisp, autumn air stinging her cheeks red as she attempted to put space between them. “Sesshoumaru, what—”
His arm wrapped around her back, and she went silent, that guileless blue widening further as he leaned over her, letting his weight bend her back.
“Miko, tell me no.” Face dipping lower, he whispered, “And I will stop.”
A small sound rose in the back of her throat as that whisper skimmed her lips. “And if I don’t?”
His smile was quiet, predatory. “Then, I will not.”
Another whimper and the tension winding her spine snapped. Delicate, insignificant weight went slack where he held her, the sweet scent of her anticipation spiking.
“Oh.” Those blue eyes grew hooded and drowsy as a pink tongue darted out to wet her lips, the tip brushing his. “That might be a problem.”
“Yes.” He leaned lower. “It very well may be.”
His lips fell on hers.
Perhaps it was a crime to steal kisses, but he had never been particularly good about leaving alone what wasn’t his.