How to Turn a Frog into a Prince - Bree Wolf Page 0,113

enough.

It would never be enough.

Nathanial knew the truth even before his lips finally claimed hers.

*

Awkward and unpleasant? Charlaine thought as she clung to Nathanial, returning his all but fevered kiss with equal measure. Never! For this was heaven!

Her hands snaked into his hair, the tips of her fingers tracing the line of his neck, as he held her locked in his embrace. His heart thudded wildly against her ribcage, a reminder of the emotions he always sought to keep in check.

But now the truth was out.

Although Nathanial had not reciprocated in kind when she had confessed her love for him, his current reaction to her dare was quite telling. Quite telling, indeed!

Charlaine knew that he loved her. Why else would he have been so terrified of losing her? All he needed had been someone to push him to the edge and demand an answer. Someone to fight for him. Someone to prove to him that he was worthy of so much more than he believed.

That he was her dream.

Her hope.

Her love.

As hesitant and evasive as Nathanial had been before, as demanding and eager was he now. His touch was no longer tentative, his hands holding her with determination, with the intent to keep her, here, with him. He urged her closer until she could barely breathe, then slipped a hand up the line of her neck and into her hair.

Charlaine gasped as she felt a short tug, her skin prickling with the sensation. Her head tilted back, and Nathanial deepened their kiss with a voraciousness she had not known he possessed. It was as though all his emotions had suddenly been unleashed and he could not get enough of her.

Indeed, it was not enough.

Not nearly enough.

Wrapped in each other’s arms, they moved backward until the cool windowpane cut off their retreat. Charlaine felt its slight chill through the fabric of her gown, a stark contrast to the heat lingering under her skin.

Nathanial’s lips brushed hers again and again, nipped hers, before he was kissing her all over again, his mouth on hers, a gentle but demanding pressure Charlaine got lost in all too willingly. Time seemed to stop as though the world had paused in its tracks, overcome by the sight of their union.

All tension fell from Charlaine, her limbs suddenly feeling weak after all the fears they had endured lately. Relief swept through her, and her heart sighed in contentedness, feeling safe and at peace…and utterly overcome by the man holding her in his arms.

He was still sweet and caring Nathanial. A man who respected her. A man who always listened to what she had to say even if he did not like what she was saying. A man who was her friend, her confidante, her home. She felt safe with him, at peace and knew that there was no place she would rather be than by his side.

Still, under that outward layer of restraint and formality hid a deeply passionate heart, one he rarely showed to anyone, one he pretended did not exist, one he feared would only bring him pain. Now, however, he had shared all he felt with her, revealing the depth of his emotions, trusting her not to hurt him.

Pulling back, Charlaine smiled at him, her hands rising to cup his face. “What do you want?” she asked on a whisper, her breath mingling with his as she looked up into his deep blue eyes. “Tell me.”

Again, the muscle in Nathanial’s jaw twitched. It was only a mild echo of what it had been before. His arms still held her close to him, telling her something he had yet to put into words. And then he spoke and she could tell from the strain still lingering in his jaw that he was taking a leap of faith. “I want you.”

Charlaine’s heart rejoiced. “As a friend?” she dared him, a teasing smile upon her lips.

A deep breath rushed from his lungs, and the hint of a smirk tugged on his lips. Then one arm came around her middle, pulling her deeper into his embrace, as his other hand grasped her chin, tilting her head upward, their eyes locked. “As my wife.”

Doubt still rested in his gaze, and Charlaine knew that a part of him still expected her to deny him. To refuse him. To laugh in his face, saying that all that had happened had been a misunderstanding.

Nothing more.

“Then ask me,” Charlaine dared him as her hand slipped between them, once more coming to rest upon