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Cecelia pushed against his chest, but he put one hand on either side of her head, flat against the wall, and leaned into her. She froze. And looked everywhere but at him. “Stop it,” she protested, gritting her teeth. She glanced back and forth up the alleyway. “Someone will see.”
“Then let them see, blast it all. I don’t give a damn.” He turned her head with his crooked finger beneath her chin. “You’re the only thing that matters to me. I need you to know how I feel.”
“Marcus,” she protested, pushing against his chest, but he just leaned more heavily against her. “We’re supposed to be finding Mayden.”
“We’ll look for him in a moment.” He touched the side of her face. God, she was so pretty. Her eyes closed and she leaned her cheek into his palm. “We need to talk.”
***
The last thing Cecelia wanted to do was talk to Mar
cus. She was still smarting from his set down, and she didn’t want to hear anything he had to say about the matter. Six months. It had been six months since she’d felt the beat of his heart beneath her hand. Since she’d felt the brush of his breath across her cheek. Since she’d had him this close. But this wasn’t friendly, playful Marcus. This one was completely serious. And obviously mad if he thought he could handle her in such a way.
“Move, Marcus!” she cried, shoving his hand from where it cupped her cheek.
“No.”
He didn’t say more than that. Just that single word.
He took a deep breath, as though he needed to collect his thoughts. “I let you go once. I’ll never do it again. Not willingly. Don’t ask it of me.” His eyes danced across her face. “Give me an opportunity,” he begged.
“I can’t.” Her voice shook. “I have my reasons, Marcus. I just can’t.”
“Tell me what they are. Aside from the fact that I’m an idiot.”
He wouldn’t like her reason. He wouldn’t like it at all. But she had to tell him something.
She pushed him back and he moved marginally. “You’re too close for propriety,” she warned.
“I just want another chance,” he said again.
He’d had his chance. He had. And then he gave it up. So, she moved on. She had moved on, hadn’t she? Truly? She’d gotten over him. She’d gone on with her life.
She’d wanted this more than anything for six months. But now, now she wasn’t free to accept him, even if she wanted to. She had to return to the land of the fae to care for her father. She wanted more than anything to accept Marcus. But she couldn’t.
“Why is this so easy for you?” she asked him. “And why the sudden change of heart?”
“I haven’t had a change of heart. My heart’s the same as it was,” he said. “I loved you then, and I love you now.”
Cecelia’s heart would leap from her chest if it beat any faster. Either leap or break into a million pieces. She suspected the latter.
“It’s too late.”
His face fell, his eyes wary.
“Why is it too late? You’re here. I’m here. Let me kiss you, Cece,” he said. His head descended toward hers.
She couldn’t have stopped him even if she’d wanted to. And she didn’t want to. It had been so long since he’d kissed her.
“Why do you want to kiss me?” she asked, her voice quavering.
“Stop asking questions you already know the answer to,” he growled. Then he touched his lips to hers. His touch wasn’t tentative the way she remembered. His breath blew across her lips, and then he was opening her mouth with his tongue and sweeping inside. Cecelia’s knees buckled, and she grabbed on to his forearms to hold herself upright. But then he was there, taking the weight off her legs as he pressed her against the building with his body.
His hips pressed hard against her stomach, his chest heaving against her breasts. There was nothing gentle in his kiss, which was the opposite of the softness she would have expected from her best friend. It was lusty and urgent. And delightful.
He drew her lower lip between his and suckled gently, and it was all Cecelia could do to stay on her feet.
The noise that escaped his throat was primal. His hands left the wall beside her head and dropped to draw her to him. His mouth continued to plunder. He licked across her mouth and inside, nibbled and sucked her lips, and stole her wits with the noises he made.
