Page 85 of My Faire Lady

My feet stop an inch away from hers, and our chests brush. She’s still, arms pinned at her sides, as if she doesn’t trust herself to keep her hands from reaching for me.

“You are everything I’ve ever wanted, too, Scarlet.” I hook a finger beneath her chin, forcing her eyes to mine. “I’m so tired of pretending like I don’t think about you every minute of the day, of wishing you’d come to that fucking door in the middle of the night and sleep with me. I know we’ll have to go our separate ways at the end of the summer, but I can’t bear the thought of leaving without knowing what your skin tastes like.”

“But—”

“It’s going to hurt either way, so please, give me a part of you I can take with me. And I’ll leave a piece of me here, for you. And who knows? If the fates allow it, maybe they’ll bring us back together one day.”

“Would you want that?” she breathes. “To be together one day?”

The low light reflects in her hazel eyes, highlighting the scar hugging her brow.

I trace the pad of my thumb over it and say, “There’s nothing I’d want more.”

Her lips part, and like I’ve cracked something deep within her, the shadows clinging to her eyes shift. Disappear. I trail my finger down her temple and follow the arch of her jaw. This is who she is. Not the hardened witch whose only purpose is to guard this land.

This is Scarlet, and I’m in love with her.

Her eyes shift between mine. I hold my breath, terrified the slightest change in the air could spook her. The seconds tick by, each longer than the last, and my chest threatens to crumple in on itself.

My hand drips from her jaw, slowly, a finger at a time, and I blink against the sting climbing the back of the throat. I can’t blame her if she wants to keep true to her word. To protect her heart from me.

“Fuck it.”

Scarlet yanks me against her chest and crashes her lips to mine.

My heart lurches into my throat, and I arch into her, welcoming the arm that wraps tight around my waist. There’s nothing gentle or careful about the way she parts my lips with hers. It’s hungry, aching, and as she drags her tongue across the seam of my mouth, I oblige.

Our hands trace each other’s bodies, starved, as she leads us to the bedroom door, our feet unsure and unsteady. My back presses against the cool wood, and she eases a knee between my thighs, pulling a low moan from the back of my throat. I roll my hips against her, and her hand tightens in my hair, the other grasping for the doorknob at my hip.

The door swings open, and she pushes me through, not breaking our kiss as she kicks it shut behind us.

Her hand falls from the back of my neck, trails across the curve of my bare shoulder, and drops to the ties of my corset. She pulls at one of the ribboned ends.

Nothing happens. She tugs again.

I laugh against her mouth. “I think you’re tightening it.”

Cursing under her breath, she silences my laugh with a kiss and drags her finger in a circle against the back of the corset. It loosens, and my lungs inhale a full breath of air for the first time all day. I lean back, far enough to catch the lopsided grin on her face.

“You cheated,” I say.

She drags a thumb across the swell of my bottom lip, her gaze pinned to the movement. “Witches never claim to play fair.”

“But magic⁠—”

Her mouth finds the hollow of my throat, silencing my protest. “I think there are many uses for my magic, don’t you?”

Her teeth nip at my earlobe, and a shudder wracks my body as she dips her fingers beneath the edge of my corset. She lowers with it, easing it down over my hips and my thighs, until her knees hit the floor. She looks up at me, and my mouth goes dry as I brace a hand on her shoulder, stepping out of the corset one foot at a time.

She folds it up, careful not to crease the fabric, and sets it gently to the side. Her hand wraps around the back of my lower calf, and her gaze skims over my body. “You know, I still think you’re ridiculous for wearing that corset to the faire.”

“Well, I think it’s entirely your⁠—”

Her hand climbs my leg, severing every thought in my mind as it settles against the back of my thigh. From her knees, she offers me a devilish grin. “Please, don’t stop talking on my behalf.” The fabric of my chemise pools around her wrist, and she tangles her fingers in it. “You were saying?”

I reach down and brush her hair from her shoulders. “That we should have done this a long time ago.”

While my thoughts scatter throughout the room, I study her face, the way she stares up at me with such awe. Something softens in her eyes, and they widen, only slightly.