Page 83 of Legacy Ascended

“That's not the response I was hoping for.”

“I love you too.”

He nods once, pushes the form away, and turns his chair toward me. Our knees touch.

I'm the one who moves.

I get my hand into the front of his shirt and pull him toward me. His mouth is on mine immediately, and after that there is no ambiguity about whether Evren Soren has been thinking about this.

“The door,” I say against his mouth.

He locks it and comes straight back.

He kisses me again, one hand at the back of my head. The other stays flat on the table until I get my fingers into his hair and pull. Then it's on my waist.

“Shoulder,” he says.

“It's stiff and tender and I don't want weight on it. That's all. I'll say if that changes and I won't be brave about it.”

“Good.” He straightens. “Sit up. Right hand on my shoulder, not the left. Don't help.”

“You're conducting.”

“Yes.”

Then he squares the letters into their folder, sets the form on top, and moves the whole lot to the far end of the table. He takes off his coat, folds it, and lays it on the edge of the table.

“What's the coat for?”

“The table is wood.”

“I'll survive.”

“I'm aware.”

He lifts me onto the folded coat and steps between my knees.

He undresses me one layer at a time. When my sweater comes off, he stops and looks at the mark across the top of my shoulder—the groove that's going to be there for life—and touches the skin beside it, very lightly, once.

“Don't,” I say.

He looks at me.

“I'm fine.”

“I know.” His thumb passes once over the skin beside the scar. “I'm still allowed to hate it.”

Before I can answer, his mouth is on my throat.

He gets my bra off one-handed, which is annoying and extremely effective. His mouth moves lower, and when I make a sound, he does exactly the same thing again, harder.

He takes off my jeans, then puts his hands on the insides of my thighs and opens them. He goes down onto one knee between them.

“Stay there,” he says.

“Wasn't planning on going anywhere.”

Then his mouth is on me.