She is wearing far too much clothing.
Elyria lets out a breathy moan against my mouth, and it’s almost enough to undo me right here and now. One hand is fisted in my hair and?—
I groan. Fuck. With her other palm on my chest, she’s pushing me back, breaking our kiss, dragging me from her. Adding inches to the space between us when I want there to be nothing. Nothing but that almond scent that permeates every moment of my day, every thoughtin my head. Nothing but her skin against mine, her softness against every one of my hard lines. Against my hard?—
The loss of her against me is a searing brand.
My hands grip either side of her waist, refusing to give her up, to let her push me away again. My fingers dig into her so hard that I think they might leave marks on her porcelain skin.
She doesn’t seem to care. Were I a betting man, I might even venture to say she likes it. The slightest smile plays at the corners of her mouth. She’s appraising me, those sea-deep emerald eyes piercing, seeking.
What she is looking to find, I don’t know. I’ve already left myself bare for her.
Like she can read the very thoughts in my head, indecision furrows her brow. She sucks her bottom lip in between her teeth. My eyes immediately track the motion. Heat flares in my chest. It should bemyteeth grazing those perfect lips.Mytongue dancing between them. I move, trying to close the space between us.
She holds me in place.
Fucking hells. I always forget how strong she is.
“What are we doing?” she says.
I arch a brow. “Was it not obvious?”
“This is a bad idea.”
“I disagree. Fervently.”
“You’ll regret it tomorrow.” Her iron hold on me loosens.
I test it, pushing back against her, and she allows me to reclaim a few precious inches. Close enough to graze my nose against her neck, inhaling deeply, her sugar-and-poison scent sending a rush of blood straight to my cock.
“Fuck tomorrow.” And I crush my lips to hers once more.
She melts into me this time, her hand gripping the back of my neck, pulling me closer. Possessive. It lights my blood on fire. My fingers find their ways back to the laces of her breeches. I tug at the ties, a man desperate.
“Something I can help you with?” she says against my mouth, humor lacing every word, but I am not playing anymore.
My left hand moves up her side, lifting the hem of her blouse to reveal more of the soft skin of her abdomen. I splay my right hand against her stomach, fingers slipping below her waistband. Gently, I push her back, and—all blessings to the Five—she lets me.
Lets me press her flush against the wall. Lets me press myself flush againsther. Lets me undo those infernal laces, tugging her breeches down just enough to be able to slide my hand inside.
My fingers brush soft curls. Her breath hitches. I lower my head and press a kiss to the dip between her neck and her shoulder. The whimper she releases in response raises something feral from deep within me.
She swallows hard, as though steeling herself. “We still—This isn’t—We shouldn’t—” I cut off each of her attempted protestations with another kiss at her neck—licking, sucking, nipping. And even as she continues her futile attempts at coming up with a reason to stop, she doesn’t release her grip on me.
She only holds me tighter.
“You leave tomorrow,” she finally manages to get out between breaths, and I pull back to see her looking up at me with heavy-lidded eyes.
I ignore the pang in my chest at the reminder. “So, let me give you something to remember me by.”
I glide my fingers lower and—Noctis fucking take me now—find her absolutely, gloriously, wet for me.
“There she is,” I say, my eyes never leaving her face as I locate that tiny mound of nerves, rubbing a single fingertip over it in slow circles.
She gasps, arching against the wall, her breasts heaving against my chest. The sight of her, the sound of her, thefeelof her alone is nearly the end of me.
My other hand moves around her waist, settling on her perfect ass, digging in, holding her tight against me as my finger starts circling faster. I slip my two middle fingers directly into her wet heat, stroking her slowly, and her answering moans are the most magnificent torture.
