Page 222 of Sorrow & Strangers

Chapter Ninety-Three

Summer

He tenses a little, almost like he knows he’s screwed up, but I feel like I’ve been doused by the chill of his words. Not that I don’t like this possessiveness, but I also know I can’t give him what he wants at this moment.

“What else would you do?” he asks, digging his fingers into my thigh that he has hitched against his hip, and I know he’s trying to reignite the mood.

“Nothing,” I say, all warmth gone from my voice. “You ruined it.”

“Ruined it?” he asks, sounding surprised.

“Yes.”

He growls and leans in, biting my neck. It’s funny how drastically different his avatar feels. It’s even starker now that I’ve felt how his hands feel, how he feels, how much warmth radiates from him. I can’t help my moan, but the phantom touch of his lips pales in comparison to how they actually feel, and it just makes the yearning deeper.

“You’re overstating it, little fae,” he says, biting me again, but I push him back. He has the gall to look surprised again. “Explain to me how I ruined it?”

“Considering the whole scenario was hypothetical. You didn’t need to mention that if I kissed you, I’d never be kissing anyone again,” I growl, feeling a flicker of annoyance that may be more to do with my increasing sexual frustration. I pull my leg back and roll onto my back, staring up at the ceiling.

“I was lost in thought. The fantasy of you touching the real me,” he says, with a low sigh.

My stomach flutters, but I ignore it, lifting my arms and letting them flop back to the bed. “Well, tough shit. You’ve ruined the mood.”

He moves in closer and nuzzles along my jaw, and I have to bite my lip to stop my moan. This is equally ‌bad for both of us, and even in this form, he makes me feel so fucking good. He buries his face in my neck and inhales deeply.

“You can’t smell me . . .” I moan, my eyes drifting closed.

“I remember it perfectly.”

“Stranger . . .” I exhale and push him back so I can look at him.

He sighs and sits up on the bed, resting his head in his hands. I sit up too, staring at his back.

“Does it bother you so much that I can’t feel or smell or taste you in this form?” he asks, glancing at me over his shoulder.

“Yes, but that’s not why I stopped you.”

“Because of what I said about the kiss?”

“You ruined the mood,” I say, glaring at him.

“And the mood was . . .”

I blink, but when the stranger laughs, my lips twitch. I roll my eyes and lie back down. The stranger moves on top of me, pinning me beneath his solid body. I can’t stop the soft, happy sigh that parts my lips as his weight presses me into the mattress. It’s the only thing that feels the same. He nuzzles into my face, and when I nip at his jaw in warning, he chuckles, completely ignoring me. I growl, and he growls back. The sound is low and terrifying, and I feel the vibration in my chest, making me shiver. He nips my ear with his teeth and wraps my legs around his waist. I arch a little and pull him closer, seeking the feel and heat of him.

“Good girl . . .” he breathes against my neck.

I pull back a little, and he looks down at me. “The mood is still ruined,” I say, though my voice is husky.

He smirks and leans down, pressing a kiss to my throat. “The mood . . .” I tilt my head and wrap my arms around him when he sucks on my neck. “How’s the mood now?” he asks, his breath warm.

“It’s . . .” I bite my lower lip. “Fuck . . .”

He bites me again, lower on my neck. “Now?” he asks, his tongue sliding over the sting.

I growl and roll us, pinning him to the bed. His chest heaves as he looks up at me, but then I remember he can’t feel me, and I curse, rolling off him. “What’s the point when you can’t feel me? When you’re a phantom? When I’ve had the real thing?”

“I knew it was an issue for you.”