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Without a moment of hesitation, he’s opening his mouth to slip his tongue over my own. This melts every thought, every grudge of being left in the dark. I arch my back, pressing my hips into his own, discovering his growing hardness. I groan at the pressure.
Kane releases a strained sigh into my mouth, and with one quick motion, he’s propping me against the wall, hooking my legs around his hips.
And it is as if the kiss had grown wings and taken flight, morphing into a feral euphoria. A desperate search for my soul. Because he deepens this kiss, passionately, ferociously, devouring my mouth. Branding me with his need to taste me.
I whimper as his broad hands find the sides of my face, ensnaring me to his lips. The ache in my chest burns like hot coals, searing my flesh, turning my organs to ash. It’s insatiable. The need to have him. All of him. Because this kiss… this kiss. It’s what I needed. Every moment in the asylum when I visited Dessin’s room and Kane stayed in the shadows. Every moment he held me in his arms while we slept in the forest. Every secret we exchanged.
He breaks apart from our kiss and looks at me. He’s begging me. Searching my eyes for a sign. Reaching into me. Pulling at my heart, removing it from my body so he can hold it in his hands. It’s yours. It will always be yours.
“Tell me I’m yours,” I pant. “Tell me.”
My words untie his final knot of restraint.
His soul collides with mine and he claims me with his kiss once again, his tongue grazing my own. His right hand tangled into my wet hair, keeping me close. So close. Not nearly as close as I want to be. Nothing is enough. I want more. More of his lips on mine. More of his embrace. More of his heart and his attention and his whole world.
And in all this time, I now know I have never wanted anything else but this. And I will never want anything else but this again.
17. Poison The Puppet
While Kane checks the area for lingering guests, I brush my fingers over my lips.
I close my eyes.
I watch it over and over again.
How could we have waited this long? His lips.
It feels as though the tension and constant yearning for more of him should have been diffused with that kiss. Dissipated. Like a raindrop on a candlewick. Gone.
But I caress my hand over my cheek, my neck, my waist. I burn all over. An eternal fire thrumming through my veins, splashing over the infected areas where his touch branded me. I hold that memory, bind it to my chest, swallow it like a pill that will seep into my system and never leave. I tried to hide the feelings that seemed to climb out of my heart. I tried to disguise them as a concerned friend who just wanted to help. But they got down on their knees and pleaded with me to tell the truth. I have deep and intimate feelings for Kane. For Dessin.
The wind rises in speed, carrying fallen red leaves on an invisible string, twirling around my limbs in a whimsical dance. I’m still wet but can hardly feel any discomfort. I hold a whole new jar of questions now. Will he kiss me again? Are our feelings the same? Where do we go from here? Not just with the plan but with how we act toward one another.
At least now I finally know that every time he looked at me, there was something there for him too. More than the physical heat. The sexual energy. I just want to hear him say it. I need his words right now. I need them to validate it all for me.
Just once.
Over a crooked hill of red oak trees, Kane makes his way back to me. He keeps his head down, wringing out the bottom of his wet tunic.
A herd of electric fireflies jump-starts my nerves and I’m suddenly anxious beyond reason. But it’s just Kane. The man I’ve slept next to almost every night. The man that I trust with all of my secrets. That man.
“They’re gone,” he states, quick and curt. “Let’s get changed and get moving again.” Cold. No warmth. Only ice.
“Kane?” His name barely makes it out of my mouth. He doesn’t look at me. “Kane—”
“We have to get moving.”
I stiffen. What is this? A tsunami of passion just crashed into both of our bodies at once and he’s detaching himself from me? Could it be Kane?
I step forward and lift his chin with the knuckle of my right index finger. He looks at me. A soft, sweet look. It is Kane.
“I just need to say something before we go.” My voice is practically gone. I’ve never sounded so quiet in my life. “I think we need to talk about what just happened.”
He straightens up uncomfortably. Hickory dark eyes look down on me.
“What happened between us was a mistake.”
My breath catches in my throat. I blink once. Twice. Several times, as if it will erase the last three seconds.
