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A coolness courses through my veins, like tiny ice chips have been pumped into my bloodstream, and Caz buries his fingers into the hair at the nape of my neck, deepening the kiss and groaning. I’m not sure what to do with my hands, but I kiss him back just as deeply, just as passionately. He tastes like he’s just eaten fruit, crisp and tangy.
With a groan, he climbs on the bed to mount me, cupping my face in his hands, and I lace my legs around his waist. I feel him growing hard as he grinds his dick between my thighs, and this kiss…it’sincredible. If there were meant to be fireworks going off for the best kisses, they’d be loud and booming for ours right now.
Heart beating harder, I curl my fingers into his silky hair, and he releases a guttural noise, like what I’ve done hurts him but feels good all the same. Our lips part, then connect. When they part again, I run my tongue over his bottom lip, and he hisses.
“Fuck, Willow,” he rumbles.
His voice sets me on fire. He dives in again, losing himself in my touch, my lips. His body becomes rigid, his dick harder, rubbing against me. It skims over my pussy, and I whimper, aching. I can’t help myself when I reach down to grip him.
He breaks the kiss, hissing again, and we take a moment to study each other’s faces. There’s a confused expression on his.
“Am I hurting you?” I whisper.
He studies my eyes, then shakes his head. “No.” Then he coaxes my lips apart again and lightly wraps a hand around my throat. I thread my fingers through his thick hair, giving it a tug, and a strained noise fills the base of his throat. His dick strains in his jeans, skimming the fabric on my clit. I clench for him. Damn my panties. I want our clothes off. I want him inside me. God, why do I want him so much? I know he wants me too. I can hear him.
She tastes so good. Fuck, I don’t know if I can do this. Her hands… I’m so fucking hard. How is she doing this to me?
More.I beg for it, and I know he can hear me. Ineedmore. I need him to wash away everything and make all of what happened to be worth something, so I grip the ridge of his dick again, rubbing it. I drop my other hand, working to unbutton and unzip his pants, but it’s when I’m about to push them down his waist and free him, that he grunts and tears his mouth away.
The weight of him is gone, as well as the heat of his body. When I look up, he’s standing, and he takes a few steps back, breathing raggedly. Using the back of his hand, he wipes the corner of his mouth and stands tall, clearing his throat.
Once he’s gained his composure and has fixed his pants, he asks, “Did that feel like hate to you?”
I don’t answer. I’m trying to catch my breath and digest what’s happened. I’ve kissed men before, butnoneof them havefelt likethat. None have made me want to be swallowed whole by a kiss, to be buried with it. No man hasevermade me ache the way he has right now.
He clears his throat again, swiping his palms down the length of his shirt. “Regardless, we’ve found Beatrix,” he says, and I try focusing on his words, but my eyes drop to the erection in his pants. He’s still hard. Why doesn’t he just take me? I’m right here. Justtakeme. “She gave me the chant,” he continues. “Della will bring some clothes for you, and then you can go home, back to your world, like you want.” He says the final statement with a whisper of disappointment. After he does, I feel a sharp pain in my chest, tight and constricting. I lift a hand, rubbing my chest. He doesn’t react, but I’m sure he feels it too, and it bugs me that I can’t hear him. His wall is high and thick, not a single thought escaping.
Caz looks me over, eyes glossy, then makes his way toward the door, leaving the room and shutting it behind him.
I run a finger over my lips, staring at the door, wishing he’d come back to do that all over again, but he won’t. He’s proved his point. He doesn’t hate me, but he also doesn’t want me staying, and I need to get back home, so I’ll go because this world is nothing but a vicious fantasy, and my real life is much safer.
Regardless, knowing he’s walking away physically hurts, and the wider the space grows between us, the more I feel the pain inside cutting deeper, like a sharp knife through the heart.
Fifty
CAZ
I sitin my office chair, clutching my chest with one hand and stroking the top of Cerberus’ furry head with the other.
It’s been an hour since that bloody kiss—well, it was more than a kiss, and I can’t stop thinking about it. In fact, the more I think about it, the more pain it causes me. I want to be back in that room. I want to kiss her again. I want to bury myself so deep inside her that it eases the pain, but I can’t do that.
She doesn’t belong here, and she doesn’t belong to me. She almostdiedbecause of me, so she can’t stay. If she leaves, then maybe the urges won’t be so intense. Manx said the Tether is getting stronger the more we’re around one another, and I realize whatever he gave me is wearing off because more black veins have appeared across my ribcage and are running farther up my neck.
My eyes move to the gun on the desk. The silver glimmers from the light pouring through the window, despite it being a cloudy day. I release my chest to pick up the gun and weigh it in my hand.
The reminder of being around that fighting ring eats at me. The metal cage. The whistles. The people shouting. The sweat and blood and anger. I sit back with the gun, close my eyes, and bring it to my temple.
Not my enemy, my friend.
“What are you doing?” The voice fills the room, and I open my eyes to find Willow standing on the other side of the office. She’s dressed casually, black jeans and an oversized T-shirt. Her hair has been pulled up into a ponytail, the ends sprouting out like individual flower stems. Her brown eyes swim with concern, and she looks from me to the gun. I lower it, placing it back on the desk. Cerberus stands and walks to Willow to sniff her, before turning away and leaving the room.
“Nothing.”
“Why were you pointing that at your head?”
“Are you ready to go home?” I counter.
She shifts on her feet. “I’m hungry.”
