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It’s the first time he’s smiledatme. He’s breathtaking. More so in the golden glow of my hands.
I am mesmerized. Maybe hypnotized. But captivated in a way I barely remember anymore. I’ve only felt this way once before, and it feels as if it was a thousand years ago.
Unable to help myself, I lean closer to press my mouth to his. Even if I wanted to stop myself, there’s no way I could resist him. It’s like the pool of the moon and the waves.
Unstoppable.
As we kiss, as I feel the fullness of his lips, the gentle caress of his thumb on my cheek, the murmur of his breath on my skin. I’m as intoxicated as if I spent a night shooting tequila. Desire flows through me, making my inner muscles clench, and heat pool at my core.
He sits up and angles his body so the only thing holding me up is his arm. He doesn’t make a sound as he lowers me onto the blanket, but somehow, we’ve turned and his body is stretched beside mine. Or I’m stretched beside him, but he’s leaning over me, hand splayed on my belly.
I’ve never been kissed with such utter possession of my body and soul. This guy uses every square inch of himself to brand me, to claim me, to make me want to be claimed.
When I kiss him back, I surrender. There’s no point in fighting what I feel. No point in denying what I want from him. Fromthem. Because now I have to accept that whatever this is, itdoesfeel like a mate bond. Itdoesfeel like something more than love or lust.
And I like it.
Because it feels right. Because it feels like I can’t possibly be making the wrong choice. Being with a mate isn’t a choice, it’s a need. An impossible connection that can’t be ignored.
My fingers curl into his hair, massage his scalp as the kiss goes on and on. A melding of our mouths that burns through my body.
Because my body is now acting independently of what my brain would tell it to do, my leg hikes over his hip and the hard length of him hits me just right, and I suck in a sharp breath, my head spinning. I hold myself against him and pull back just a little when heat flows through my body. I bite my lip, absorbing the feel of this gorgeous man against me, reveling in every sensation, every touch and breath.
A whimper slips from my lips, because I want more than this. Ineedmore.
I pull him down for another kiss and align our hips once more as his hand glides up and under the hem of my shirt, warm against my stomach, and I want him the way I haven’t wanted anyone since Rayne.
At the thought of him, I can’t breathe. I can’t think. I tear my mouth away and the tears come, unbidden, unchecked, unwanted but painful. Rayne.MyRayne. And here I am kissing another man, holding him, being held by him.
A sob warbles out, followed by another and another until I’m crying into his shoulder, blubbering, and it has nothing to do with him, but my sign language isn’t good enough to convey that to him.
Onyx pulls back and tilts my chin toward him then uses his thumb to dry my eyes.
“I’m sorry.” Of all the things I could’ve said, I go for the lamest, most pathetic. I don’t know why I’m crying or if I should be sorry or how to make him understand my reaction has nothing to do with him, only my broken heart.
“I didn’t mean to… do this.” I motion between us, and he smiles softly. “It’s just… I miss Rayne.” He cocks his eyebrow, and I know what he wants. “Rayne was my mate. I loved him, but he was… killed. And now, I’m here.”
He nods like he understands and whether he does or not, I’m staring into the eyes of a man who cares enough to pretend he does and that means something to me.
When he bends and kisses the spot on my chest over my heart then pulls back and smiles softly as he strokes my face, my heart lightens. Hedoesunderstand, and for as long as it lasts, I’m going to lay my head on his chest while his arms encircle my shoulders, and I’m going to enjoy it. Because when I lost my Rayne, I had no one. No one to heal my broken heart. And in a strange way, it makes sense that this big, sulking man might be the one to help me.
Even if I still can’t accept him as my mate. Not yet.
