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He’d demanded I promise I’d never go to Turkey after him.
I’d broken my vow, but he’d kept his.
He’s here.
I couldn’t stop thinking it. A mantra to keep me spiralling and dissolving into body-shaking sobs.
You’re here.
You’re here.
You’re really, truly here.
I threw my arms around him and kissed him like the siren he called me.
I caught his bottom lip in my teeth.
I sucked on his tongue.
He attacked me back with an edge of violence I knew and loved.
His touch teased with pleasure and pain.
His kisses sharp and punishing. His breath haggard and harsh.
I tried to roll over him. To sit on top of him and sink down his length.
But he kept me pinned.
His hips between mine.
His hands in my hair.
His mouth stealing every indecent, erotic, sinful thought in my body. He kissed me the way I needed to be kissed. The only way we could kiss.
With accusation and apology.
With promises and penance.
I knew him.
Every part of him.
Yet he was different too.
A familiar friend and lover returned with secrets and a cursed last name.
He sucked on my bottom lip, scattering my thoughts as he drove his trouser-clad hardness against the throbbing in my core.
The need between us went from blazing to out of control.
Panting hard, he trailed his lips from mine to my jaw and down my throat. “Fuck, I missed you.” His teeth scraped along my collarbone as he ducked down my body and took my left nipple in his mouth. He sucked me, licked me, worshipped me.
My back arched.
My hands landed in his gorgeous thick hair, tugging on the dark-sable strands. No sign of bronze from the salt and sun. He was darker. Inside and out. His eyes weren’t haunted anymore, but they held things he hadn’t shared. He still carried shadows, but there was also a glow—a strange sort of light that lit up those shadows. A glow that grew brighter the longer he kissed me and switched to my other breast, kneading me with greedy hands, making me whimper beneath him.
“Aslan.” I moaned, trying to pull his mouth back to mine. “I need. God, I need—”
