My pulse hitches at the friction of the fabric against my scars, but they’re more a mottling of my skin tone than a change in texture. My matches have never noticed.
A rough sound escapes Byron. His mouth charts a heated course to my jaw and down my neck.
As he nuzzles the crook of my shoulder, his voice comes out ragged. “This is even better than I imagined. And I don’t want to tell you how many times I imagined it in the past few weeks.”
“I wanted it too,” I murmur. “When we sort of hooked up at The Eclipse, what really scared me was how close I came to kissing you right there.”
Byron’s chuckle scorches my skin. “Blazing the roof off the club with conjured lightning. I wonder if that would have gotten me kicked out?”
“Good thing we never had to find out.” I pull his face back to mine.
Every kiss makes my body sing more, but a deeper need has kindled low in my belly. My hips sway toward Byron’s, and he drops his hand to stroke it over my ass.
“This time, we’re going to do it right,” he mutters between kisses.
Without warning, he hefts me up by my thigh. His mouth collides with mine as he leans me up against the nearest tree trunk, supporting me with his hand and his powerful frame. The bulge behind his slacks presses against my pussy through my skirt.
I clutch at his hair and gasp. My hips cant toward him of their own accord, increasing the pressure.
Byron groans.
“Need to do thisright,” he repeats, looking down at our interlocked bodies, my thighs splayed around his hips.
For a second, I think he’s simply appreciating the closeness between us. Then a tickle of shifting ephemera grazes my skin.
Vines sprout up around me, leaves grazing my skin. The cord-like plants wind around the tree trunk beneath me and twine together against my ass and the sides of my torso. Pale pink flowers blossom in their wake with a delicate honeyed fragrance.
In less than a minute, I’m perched on a woven, living throne. The vines flex against my weight when I adjust my position, the structure remains firmly in place.
Byron flashes a grin. “Now I can concentrate all my energy on making you feel incredible rather than holding you up.”
I can’t restrain a giggle. “No wonder you nabbed that number one rank. Got any other tricks up your sleeve, Mr. Worth?”
He mock-glowers at me before rubbing his thumbagainst his fingertips. “I am considering all the interesting effects a little electricity could have in moderation, when applied carefully… Maybe we can experiment sometime when I’m sure of my handle on my glim?”
A thrill that’s almost electric itself courses under my skin.
In the three years we spent as matches, my original Byron never made that provocative a suggestion. Because he’d had three years less training to bolster his confidence before he had to grapple with his glim?
Or because he saw me as too fragile to handle it?
The ache inside me fills the back of my throat.
I trace my fingers over his stunning, devoted face. “I can’t wait.”
The impulse grips me to have more of him right now. I grab the front of his shirt and fumble with the buttons, determined to take in every part of him like I did with Salvatore. To see the man who’s become my match again.
Byron’s gaze blazes hotter. He helps me strip off the school uniform shirt and tosses it aside.
I glide my hands down over the curves of his biceps and the ridges of his abs, taut beneath his rich brown skin. His nipples pebble at the sweep of my thumbs.
With another guttural sound, he tugs at my shirt. My heart skips a beat, but I let him peel it off to reveal the undershirt and bra beneath.
When he reaches for the hem of my undershirt, I stop him with a gentle touch. “I—I feel strange getting totally undressed. Especially out here.” I’ll have to come up with other excuses in the future, but it’ll do for now. “I can still?—”
I wriggle out of my bra like I did in the condo and let it fall.
The thin silk of the undershirt disguises the discolorations on my skin but not the swell of my breasts orthe jut of my nipples. Byron drinks me in like this with no sign of disappointment.
