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But he must have been able to see me, at least in some capacity.
Because one feral heartbeat later, his hands crashed to my jaw and he dragged my mouth down to his.
I gasped against him, my lips parting to make a shocked sound. That turned out to be a big fucking mistake. His tongues, all three searching, searing tendrils, plunged into my mouth.
This barely qualified as a kiss, at least compared to the kisses I’d had before. This was...Desperation.Grief and longing and fear made physical by a searching mouth and gripping hands and penetrating tongues. There was a question in that blistering, claiming kiss – an unconscious question, I was certain. But a question all the same.
Are you here?that brutal kiss asked me.Were you ever even here at all?
I could do nothing but answer.
I slid my hands down and back, wrapping my arms around his neck, opening my mouth to give him better access.
I’m here.
This was insane. I knew it was. But I couldn’t stop it. Couldn’t fight it. Couldn’t do anything in that moment but open myself to him and let him know that he didn’t need to be afraid.It’s only because he’s scared, I told myself. It’s only because it’s dark and I’m sure he feels alone...
I tried to tell myself that if it were light, if it were daytime, free from nightmares and shadows and pain, I never would have allowed him to do this.
But after everything we’d gone through tonight – all the laughter and blood and the terrifying bloom of new feelings – that began to feel like a lie.
The kiss may not have felt necessarily sexual from Errok’s side – his movements were too anguished – but as my breasts were crushed to his chest, my legs spread wide, it certainly became sexual for me. Heat catapulted into my core, and I stifled a moan.
My jaw ached.
So did my clit.
Everything whirled around me. My breath heaved from my chest as I was suddenly flipped onto my back. I stared, wide-eyed, up at Errok. He loomed over me on his hands and knees. The silvery light coming into the cave was blocked out by his broad back, turning him into a velvety silhouette of black above me. I jolted, my back arching, when his left knee slid upwards, the front of his thigh bumping the agonized place between my legs.
With the darkness clinging to him like a hooded cloak, I couldn’t make out his expression. His hair hung down on either side of his face, further shielding him from the light. All I glimpsed was a flash of sight stars and a gleam of fangs before his mouth claimed mine once more.
The anguish was still there. The howling need of the kiss. But the need was shifting, too. Changing to match my own. Turning to heat and aching emptiness. Turning carnal.
I didn’t know when I’d wrapped my arms around his neck once more. Or maybe I’d never even let go of him. I clung to him, my eyes rolling back in my head when his hand drove under my tank top, finding my breast and making the nipple grow taut and needy beneath his calloused palm. His leg shifted slightly, applying gloriously painful pressure to my clit.
He had to be awake, conscious of what was happening, because he was talking, I realized dizzily. Between fevered kisses against my lips, my jaw, my scalp, he spoke, his words roughened by longing.
“I am lost, beloved. I am lost and I wish that you would find me.” His thumb stroked roughly over my nipple, and we groaned in unison. “I waited and hungered for the mate bond. I thought it would... I thought it wouldmakeme. But it has only made me come undone.”
His hand slid inward, settling in the pounding valley between my breasts. “My love for you feels like a wound. One I know not how to heal from.”
The unmistakable, heavy drag of his erection against my belly had my eyes flying open.
“Perfect creature of pain, wound me again. Hurt me with everything you have. Just don’t-” His mouth dragged against my pulsing throat as if trying to whimper right into my bloodstream. “Just don’t leave me behind.”
His mention of wounds, the unescapable swell of his shaft against me, and the disturbingly haggard straining of his breath sent reality crashing down around me. It felt as if I were the one who’d become half-delirious from a dream instead of him.
But it was time to wake up.
He’s injured. This stops now!
I yanked my hands down from where I’d been clutching at the back of his neck and shoved his shoulders as hard as I could. Even in his weakened state, my pushing him wouldn’t have been enough to make him move. But he reared back as if scalded. He snatched his hand out of my tank top, away from where it had laid over my racing heart. As I watched him stare at his own hand as if he didn’t even recognize it, I tried to ignore the way my skin now felt far too cold without his touch.
He moved back, then slumped into a seated position between my ankles. I scrambled to sit up, smashing my legs closed and drawing my knees towards my chest.
He’s not looking at me. The thought was oddly painful. He always looked at me. So much so that it seemed excessive.
But not now.
