“Cedric—”
My name breaks from her lips—a sinful prayer. I feel her clamp down around my fingers and an earthy, guttural growl rumbles up from somewhere inside me.
The sound does something to her. She inhales sharply before crushing her mouth back to mine, catching my bottom lip between her teeth. She nips at it before moving to my neck, inhaling deeply through her nose. There’s a singular moment of suspended silence, and it feels like we’re teetering on the precipice of something dangerous, something irrevocable.
I’m not sure I’m fully in control of myself when I angle my head, giving her access to my neck, my fingers still stroking her, inside and out. Sheshudders. Then, she bites down, her teeth clamping onto the soft divot between my neck and shoulder.
The momentary jolt of pain is the single most exquisite thing I fear I will ever experience in my life.
It is excruciating joy and the feeling of coming home. Ineffable. Inexplicable. The thread in my chest pulls tight,tuggingme even closer to her. She releases me, tipping her head back, ecstasy written in her emerald eyes. Heat floods the spot where she bit down. I release a low groan, burying my face in her neck as I continue stroking her, drinking in her almond scent along with her sweet cries.
She tenses beneath my hands, around my fingers, pleasure coiling her muscles tight. I dip my head, kissing my way down the column of her neck, her collarbone, up the slope of her breast, until I’m taking one peaked nipple between my lips and sucking it through the thin fabric of her blouse. She arches her back, then releases another whimper as I move to her other breast.
Mine.
The word rings in my head—a chorus, a clanging bell. I don’t consciously think it. It comes from a place deeper than my mind, sliding down the tether that’s tied somewhere behind my ribs. Mine. Mine. Mine.
I lift my head.
Our eyes lock.
“Mine,” I growl, and she shatters against me, shadows twisting from her palms and wrapping around me, wrapping aroundus—a cool embrace that pins me to her.
As if I would be going anywhere.
She bucks against my hand, writhing with pleasure, and I capture her moans, her cries muffled against my mouth. I let her ride out every last wave, curling my fingers up, languidly stroking her inner walls. Like we have all the time in the world.
If only. There’s so much I need to say, so much to tell her. I’m overcome with the sudden burning need to tell hereverything. Every fear and every hope and every thought I’ve ever had, but one in particular. It blares loudly in my head, the words circling my mind, begging me to give them voice.
Elyria takes a few deep breaths as she comes back down, her shadows fading, dissipating into the ether.
Her cheeks are flushed, and I decide right here and now that this particularshade of pink might just have replaced purple as my favorite color. A sheen of sweat decorates her brow, slicking baby-fine strands of periwinkle to her forehead. I have to restrain myself from licking it away—what the fuck is wrong with me?—as I extricate myself from her.
It takes even more restraint—nearly more than I possess—not to bring my fingers directly to my mouth, to taste her, to savor her, but I know that if I do there’s no fucking way I’ll be able to keep my wits about me long enough to say anything, let alone what I want to—what Ineedto.
I plant a gentle kiss against her temple and help pull her breeches back into place. “Regretting it yet?” I say with a grin.
She narrows her eyes, though the intended effect is somewhat lessened by the glaze of desire still clouding them. “Don’t be an ass.”
I swallow, pulling back slightly so I can look at her properly. Soak in every beautiful inch of her. How in the quartered hell am I supposed to go in the opposite direction of her—again—come the day after tomorrow? How am Ieversupposed to say goodbye?
Thetugin my chest throbs at the thought. “Elle, I?—”
She reaches for my waist, her eyes flaring as they lock onto the side of my neck, and I wonder what kind of mark her bite left behind. Just the thought of it has blood rushing to my still-hard cock.
“What are you doing?” I ask, adjusting my stance.
“Returning the favor, of course.” A wicked grin spreads across her face as she curves three fingers around the edge of my waistband.
I inhale sharply, my cock twitching. “You don’t have to do that.”
“I know I don’thaveto.” She tugs on the drawstring. “Iwantto.”
“Hold on, just wait—” Inwardly, I’m cursing myself for stopping her as I pull her back up to face me. But there are things I need to say before I’m too far gone to be able to form coherent words. Before we part. Again.
“You have to allow me to settle the score,” she says, a playful pout on her swollen lips.
“What score?” I laugh. “We are not playing a game.”
