“Relax, I’m not going to hurt you,” she says. She’s turned away, rummaging through her own bag. “Just because Icould, doesn’t mean I will. But if you don’t feel?—”
“I know you’re not,” I say quickly. My stomach drops as I watch her, shoulders hunched. That bag doesn’t have much in it. She can’t be looking for anything. She just doesn’t want to look at me.
The realization I’ve hurt her feelings flares through me. It’s stupid to care. Almost as stupid as sharing a tent with my best friend’s killer. I don’t dwell on the logic. I move by pure instinct, crawling over Cora’s fortress with little grace.
She only turns once I’m at her side, those wide eyes flashing up to mine. Defiant, hurt, angry.
“I’m sorry,” I say. “I shouldn’t have brought it up.”
“It’s fine, Elliot,” she says. Her eyes go back to her bag, but she doesn’t make a show of searching it.
“Look at me,” I say. Beg.
When she doesn’t, I curl my hand around the back of her neck. Not firmly, not even enough to make her turn.
Still, she does. Eyes wide, mouth parted.
She’s not afraid. No, she’s fucking leaning into my touch, looking up at me like she wants me to?—
I don’t think. I just move, crashing my lips against hers and biting the same lip she’s been teasing all night. Our movements are thoughtless. Easy.
Without so much as breaking the kiss, she’s in my lap. I pull her even closer, until our chests press together. I slow the kiss, exploring, claiming, devouring her mouth. There’s nothing but the sound of wind against our tent and her gasping breaths. When I groan against her lips, her hips snap against mine.
Instinctual.
Familiar.
Perfect.
“Fuck,” I say against her mouth, the word a garbled mess.
Cora whimpers, and I’m absolutely done for. I pull her harder to me, until her hips align with mine, and her warm cunt grinds over my cock. I can’t remember the last time I felt this hard, this desperate for sex. Have I ever?
The want ricochets through my entire body. Any blood reserved for my brain has moved south, until I am nothing more thanhers.
Hers to use, to enjoy, to devour.
And she, she is mine.
“Fuck, Cora,” I say. It’s a prayer, a plea, a promise.
I don’t recognize the sound I make next. It’s somewhere between a growl and a hum, and it’s filled with a vast hunger I didn’t realize existed until she fell back into my life. Until I felt the warmth of her skin and saw the things I once did to her…things shemademe forget.
With my hand still on her neck, my thumb settled in thehollow of her throat, I kiss her deeper. She tastes like green tea and winter wind and something so viscerallyCorathat I’m sure there’s no proper name for it. All I know is she’s the most exquisite thing I’ve ever tasted, even better than my memories promised.
I am ruined. Gone is any concern of right and wrong, of guilt or uncertainty. I don’t care who she is or what she’s done. In this moment, I only care to get closer. To taste this perfect woman, new and familiar, all at once.
Cora’s hands slide up my shoulders, cool fingers locking behind my neck, keeping me close. She’s trembling against me, honest-to-Mother shivering, nails digging into the back of my nape.
“Gods, Cora,” I say. The words are muffled against her lips, but I don’t move away as I continue. “How do you taste this good? You’re fucking unreal.”
I’m dizzy with lust. Arousal. Endless and overpowering need.
Cora doesn’t respond. She’s too busy kissing me, soft lips trailing from the corner of my mouth to my jawline, down the length of my throat. When she reaches my shoulder, she bites softly. Sucks the tender spot, just above my collarbone.
“Fuck,” I groan. My head swims, and the control I thought I’d already lost, disappears completely. “Hold on, I need…I have to…”
My cock strains against my pants. I could come from this alone, but I’m not ready for it to end. I want to feel her come on my hand. My tongue. My cock.
