“You don’t have to,” I assure her. “But if you ever want or need to, I’m here.”
“Rampage ramble?”
“Exactly.” I point at the bathroom, sensing her need to be alone and collect herself. “If you want to shower, I can go find us something to eat.”
Celine nods and then winces, pointing to the small backpack. “I only brought water and snacks.”
“No worries, I’ll grab you a shirt.” My heart thumps in mychest—the dumbass has no chill—but I’m stupidly excited to see Celine in my clothes.
She disappears into the bathroom, and I wait for the water to turn on before rifling through my closet, testing the softness of each T-shirt by rubbing it against my face. I’ve been crying so damn much, my skin is extra sensitive. When I find one that doesn’t irritate me, I’m thrilled.
I snort when I recognize it. Green and faded, the raised Starfall Academy logo is flaking around the edges. I think I kept it out of spite after I was expelled. It doesn’t take much to tear two holes in the back, and I get a petty rush of satisfaction by defiling something related to those hallowed halls.
Satisfied with the shirt, I sneak to the kitchen and make some sandwiches. Thankfully, everyone else is still gone, and I’m able to swipe half a dozen of Sarah’s chocolate chip cookies too.
I don’t usually eat in my room. Crumbs in the bed are barbaric—I’m not a baboon—but for Celine, I’m willing to make an exception.
After I close the bedroom door behind me, I find her sitting on the bed, working through the tangles in her hair with my brush. The Starfall shirt hangs midway down her thighs. Air catches in my throat. She smells like my soap, my shampoo, my conditioner, my fucking moisturizer too, and I can’t get enough. Desperate for more, I suck in the first full breath I’ve managed since Dad died. Celine smells like she’s mine.
“You okay?” She lets the brush fall to her lap.
I place the food on the table. Take one step toward her. Two. Three.
Her eyes track my movements, flashing with heat.
Then we’re stealing each other’s air. All I can smell is her mixed with me. I’m suffocating in it, but I never want to stop.
Celine says my name, her fingers tracing my cheeks.
My heart thuds painfully against my ribs. “Can I tell you asecret?” I whisper, dropping my forehead against hers. She nods, and my eyes drift closed. “I think I’m a little broken.”
She strokes my hair, so softly I might be imagining it, and says, “It’s okay to be broken sometimes.”
“Can you... for tonight at least, can you hold me together?” My voice cracks, but I don’t get a chance to feel embarrassed because Celine’s arms tighten around me.
“Look at me, Ciprian.” My eyes flutter open to find golden runes dotting her bare arms, neck, and face. A shiver rolls through me as her magic grazes mine intimately. “I’ve got you. I swear it.”
Everything quiets inside me. Pain, regret, longing; they’re all silenced by Celine’s sincerity. Because she means it—at least for tonight, she means it—and that’s enough.
Her lips meet mine, full and a little chapped.
I shudder.She made herself messy for me... “I want you,” I gasp into her neck.
“You have me.” Celine pulls the faded shirt over her head, and I drink her in. Every curve, every dip. No one has ever looked this good.
I want to lick every inch of her, but her self-assurance is what’s driving me wild. I want to live inside of that confidence. Consume it. Make it mine. Forever.
“You’re overdressed, Casanell,” she purrs.
I crawl toward her on the bed, unbuttoning my shirt as I go. Starting at her ankle, I drag my nose and lips up her leg, inhaling the smell of skin drenched with me. When I reach the crease of her thigh, she grabs my hair and stops me.
“Not now,” she says. “We’ve wasted enough time, don’t you think?”
The stubborn heat in her eyes makes me chuckle, and I give her a long lick despite the tension on my scalp. “Take that back,hot wings.” Another lick. “Time spent between your legs is never wasted. I’d happily die here.”
“You can drown yourself later,” she moans. “I want all of you.”
I freeze. She’s talking about my dick, I know that, but the choice of words hits me hard. Has anyone ever wanted all of me before? Pieces, sure, but I’ve spent a lifetime being too much. It makes me as impatient as she is.
