Realization runs across Silas’ face of his plan not going according to how he envisioned it. His smug demeanor is replaced with anger as his relaxed posture stiffens and he walks toward the line of decimation. His mind is puzzling out what’s going on, and he calls out the order for the remaining soldiers to pull back.
Spending my whole life with Silas means I have a good idea how his mind works. First, he’ll assess what he knows of the situation, observe the line of fallen bodies. Then, he’ll test his theory by sending a soldier into the barrier to see what happens. Finally, he’ll work toward finding a solution to gain what he wants. I want nothing to do with him and his eventual manic state with the situation. The next time my uncle sees me, I need to make sure it’s a situation that’ll benefit me.
I turn my attention back to the rubble of the former castle. This is where my Cecily grew up, her home. She didn’t give me many details about it, but I do know she loved it here. Picturing her in my mind, it’s almost like I can imagine her here with me. Running through the halls of her home. She’s running away from me and glancing over her shoulder, like she did when I chased her in the forest before I showed her the Blackfoot Indians.
Her giggle sounds in my ears as I follow the transparent image I see of her, climbing over bits of dismantled walls until we are where I’m sure the back corner of the castle would be. She bends over like she’s inspecting something. Before I’m ready for her image to leave me, it flickers in and out of focus, then disappears from view completely.
I know she wasn’t really here, but I still experience a twinge of pain in my heart at the loss of seeing her. I reach the spot where she was bent over, and scan the ground. I don’t know why I’m following a vision I conjured in my mind, but it feels important that I do. I catch sight of the edge of a book poking out from under a large stone.
My hands get a good grip on the rock and my muscles strain as I lift it off of the book. A loud crack sounds as I drop the stone on the pile to my left. My sweet Cecily led me to this book and it seems vital I get my hands on it. Picking it up, I brush off the dirt smudged on its leather cover. Flipping it open, I’m greeted by a soft, sloping handwritten page, and my heart instantly warms. I’ve never seen Cecily’s writing, but somehow I know this book belonged to her.
Chapter 9
Cecily
Present
I’m not sure what causes me to wake, but I’m in a groggy state. A strong arm is wrapped around my waist, holding me against a firm chest. The moments leading up to me coming to bed, filter into the forefront of my mind. I couldn’t stand the thought of going to sleep alone. It felt like the bond that used to push Marcellus and I together was at work, urging me to keep him close to me. Except this time, the sensation was more insistent.
I’m glad I listened. There’s a warmth of comfort and safety surrounding me, along with a dash of affection and love. I used to imagine what it would be like when Marcellus and I could finally share a bed together and be able to hold each other throughout the night. To wake up next to each other every morning. It’s hard to think back on those memories and reconcile them with how things turned out.
I sigh and latch on to a desperation to banish the thought of Marcellus from my mind. Derrick’s right behind me, his breath is feather-soft against the skin at the nape of my neck. He’s holding me so close, the beating of his heart can be felt through my back. The steady thud is a siren’s call, pulling on my emotions, trying to draw me in closer to him.
I roll over in his arms to face him, and place my palm on his smooth chest right over his heart. When I was in my spirit form, I had my fair share of naked sightings. I’m not new to the beauty of the human form. That being said, this is the first time I’m allowing myself to gaze upon it unashamed, in my human body. I finally have the ability to run my hand along a smooth, chiseled chest. I can kiss and caress to my heart’s content.
I inspect Derrick’s sleeping face to try and gauge just how deep he sleeps. I’m overwhelmed with the desire to touch him, but at the same time, I really don’t want him to wake up and stop me. His deep, even breathing spurs me to act and I brush past the fear of possible future embarrassment by placing my head on his chest, tilting it so my cheek is laying over his heart.
Fates, does he smell good. He has a citrusy scent with a strong twist of orange zest, one I can almost taste. I pull my head back and place a soft kiss to his pec where my head was just laying. His skin is like silk against my lips, I can’t help but continue to trail them over his chest.
Moving up to his neck, I alternate between kisses and caresses with my lips, until I meet his jawline. He sighs adorably, so I pull back and lay my head back on my pillow to watch his face for a moment to make sure he isn’t waking up. His eyelids flutter for a moment, but they don’t open. I take this pause to examine him.
He appears so peaceful while he sleeps. My eyes roam over his face, along his strong jawline, down the bridge of his nose, and finally I save his lips for last. It’s a good thing too, because my eyes are glued on them. They’re perfect, and have such a soft pout to them, like he needs me to touch them.
Bringing my hand up slowly, I use my index finger to trace first his top lip and then the bottom. His bottom lip twitches like I tickled it, and then he uses his teeth to chase the tickle away. My index finger is left with a tingle, as if I can still feel the pressure of it touching his lips. They are just as soft as I thought they would be. I bet they would feel amazing against my lips.
Hmm... can I get away with a quick brush of my lips against his? Is it worth the risk of him waking up? It feels like I run those questions through my mind for ten years and I can’t drop the thought of needing to know how his lips taste against mine. I’m now wide awake, and won’t be able to fall back asleep until I rid myself of the obsession of needing to know what it’s like to kiss him.
I take a deep breath to prepare myself against the possibility of him waking up and running out on me. Fates, I’m Alex right now. I’m about to kiss someone without their permission. I know how I felt when he did it to me, and I don’t want to make someone else feel that way. Shit, what am I doing? I stare at his lips, trying to ignore the pull in my chest willing me to place my lips on his.
This is way worse than when I craved to be kissed by Marcellus. I swear if I didn’t know better, then I would think Derrick is my mate too. I shouldn’t have these kinds of urges for someone who isn’t my mate; once you start forming a bond, you no longer get sexual desires for others. And in this case, desire is an understatement.
There has never been a mating of more than two in our history that I can remember. If anyone would know, it seems like Derrick would... he’s someone who enjoys researching our history. I mean besides my parents, but I would never ask my mom about this. Right now, I’m starting to wish heismy mate. Can I switch mates out? No one wants a backstabbing, betraying mate.
As if he’s sending me an encouraging message, Derrick pulls me in closer to his body. A subconscious movement for sure. He’s pulled me so close, there’s no space between us. My chest is pressed into his, squishing my boobs flat. Our hips are touching, with his arm holding me in place behind my lower back, and our legs tangled together. The tips of our noses brush and we’re basically sharing the same breath back and forth.
He’s so close, all I need to do is pucker my lips, and they’ll touch his. This has to be a sign to do it, right? Right. No... Yes? Damn it. A pain pierces my chest with indecision. Thanks a lot, body. No need to add pressure to the situation. In between the beating flair-ups of pain, I can feel butterflies in my stomach. I’m acting so silly.Just kiss the boy already!
I softly pucker up my lips to the point where they just barely graze against his. Ugh, such a tease of a touch, but the pain in my chest lessens. The pain may lessen, but my desire to kiss him increases. Just one more won’t hurt. This time, I make a little more contact and let it last longer. I swear his lips are perfect.
Just one more... This time, our lips don’t quite line up exactly right, and my bottom lip hits in the crease of his lips, but he puckers back a little in response. I study his eyes and there’s no hint of him waking up. I wonder if I kiss him again, will he kiss me back? I risk it and sure enough, he does with a sigh.
Damn it, kissing him is addictive. It feels so right, like this is what I’m meant to do. I need to stop, but I really don’t want to. I nuzzle my nose into his cheek, trying to keep myself from kissing him again. All my attention must contribute to slowly waking him up, because this movement causes him to rub his hand slowly up my back until it rests between my shoulder blades.
He exhales and the warmth hits my lips like a beckoning call. My willpower is so weak right now, I wish I could blame my boldness on a bond pushing me along. I nuzzle again and rub my lips on his... maybe he’ll think it’s an accident. This time though, he takes a sharp inhale and there’s a pressure from his hand on my back, trying to keep me in place.
His lips reach out to mine and his hand moves to hold my head in place. I absolutely melt into the kiss as he takes control over it, keeping me pressed to his lips for far longer than I was willing to risk. A pleasant zing travels throughout my body. He pulls back, and when I blink my eyes open, he’s gazing at me with wonder in his eyes. A small amount of guilt nags me of this kiss being just as good as the first kiss I shared with Marcellus. I push the thought into the back of my mind.
We both move forward at the same time to kiss again, and I tilt my head to the side to encourage him to deepen the kiss. He takes my hint, and I feel a hint of his tongue on my bottom lip. I open my mouth for him and become lost in the kiss we share. I’m not sure if it’s me leaning back first, or him encouraging me, but I end up flat on my back with him on top of me.
