Chapter 37 #2
Heat pooled low in my belly, spreading through my veins, and a ripple ran through my body, starting on my shoulders and traveling down to my fingertips. Gregory’s other hand gripped my hip hard enough to bruise, anchoring me against him.
He broke away with a rough, reluctant growl, and his breathing came out ragged; his eyes were burning with that crimson ring. “That’s not all.”
Frustration spiked inside me. “What?” I asked more harshly than I intended since the absence of his mouth left me aching. Gregory stepped back, creating distance between us, and the separation stung like a punishment. He moved toward the cabin door and pushed it open, the hinges creaking softly.
He reached to the side, his hand hovering near the doorframe. I blinked, trying to clear the haze of want. A crystal about the size of my fist was mounted there. It was set into the wood at chest level, transparent and multifaceted, catching the faint reflections from the porch lights.
“Touch it,” Gregory said.
I stepped forward, curiosity cutting through my frustration as I brushed the cool surface of the crystal.
A blinding glow exploded overhead, and I jerked back, my gaze snapping up to the ceiling.
The old candelabra in the center of the room blazed to life, but not with fire.
Crystals—larger than the ones on the porch, each the size of a chicken egg—were nestled where the candles used to sit.
They shone with a warm light reminiscent of the fluorescent bulbs I’d grown up with.
The facets threw prismatic patterns across the ceiling and walls, refracting into fluid shapes that danced with every tiny movement. Shards of color overlapped, creating a kaleidoscope that turned the rough wooden beams into something almost magical.
I couldn’t breathe.
“I asked Adam to make them,” Gregory said, and the muffled sound in his words made me face him. “You’re still not comfortable with fire, and I won’t always be here. I didn’t want you… I didn’t want you to be afraid.”
My heart flipped over itself in a painful lurch. Oh, God. He thought I was still afraid of him, not just the fire. Afraid that I couldn’t stand his flames, his nature, the very thing that made him what he was.
“Gregory. I’m not afraid of your fire.” I moved closer, my hands trembling as I reached for him. “I’m not afraid of you. How many times do I need to tell you? What do I need to do for you to believe me?”
Something passed over his features—relief, wonder, need—but all of it was gone in an instant as I grabbed his face and guided him down.
This kiss was different, hotter, and more desperate.
I poured everything into it, every ounce of gratitude and desire, along with the terrifying certainty that I was falling for this man.
That his fire didn’t scare me. That he didn’t scare me. Not anymore. Not ever again.
Gregory responded at once. His hands slid down to grip my ass, lifting me clean off the ground. I wrapped my legs around his waist on instinct, locking my ankles behind him. He held me there, suspended, one arm supporting my weight while he cupped the back of my head.
We kissed like we were trying to devour each other—mouths open and messy, breaths mingling in the small space between us. Gregory’s tongue swept against mine, and I sucked on it, drawing a guttural groan from his chest that went straight to my dick.
He broke the kiss, but his lips didn’t leave me. He trailed hot, open-mouthed kisses along my jaw, down to the sensitive spot below my ear. His breath scorched my skin as he moved lower, his teeth grazing the column of my throat before finding the place where my neck met my shoulder.
He bit down.
It was ecstasy—pure, all-consuming bliss that sent tremors throughout my body.
A broken sound tore from my throat as my vision bleached at the edges, and every nerve ending in my body ignited like I’d been struck by lightning.
I let my head fall back, giving him better access as a rush of fluid flooded between my legs, soaking through my underwear.
My body responded, opening itself for him in a way that should have embarrassed me but only increased the ache.
Gregory growled against my neck. “You’re going into heat,” he whispered on my skin. “Preparing for me. Your body is ready to have our child.”
He tightened his grip on my ass, digging his fingers into my flesh hard enough to leave marks.
He thrust up, grinding the ridge of his cock against me. The pressure hit exactly where I needed it, and I nearly came undone right there. My dick throbbed, trapped between us, the friction not enough and too much all at once.
My scent burst from me, exploding around us.
That night-blooming jasmine I’d come to recognize was stronger now, sweeter, and edged with desperation.
It mingled with Gregory’s sandalwood and smoke that had become darker, richer, and potent enough to make my head spin.
Every nerve ending sang with the need to sink my teeth into him and never let go.
I grabbed a fistful of his hair and yanked his head back. We were both panting, grinding against each other in a rhythm that threatened to spiral beyond control.
“I don’t want to ruin these clothes,” I managed to gasp out between thrusts.
“As you wish, my sweet Evan.” Gregory spun us away from the door and strode into the main room with purposeful steps, each one grinding his arousal harder against me. The crystal light from the candelabra threw wild, dancing patterns over his face, making the crimson in his eyes burn like embers.
When he reached the settee facing the fireplace, he lowered himself down in one smooth motion, taking me with him. I settled onto his lap, straddling him, our bodies flush from chest to hips. The new angle hit him exactly where I needed, and I couldn’t stop the small, desperate whine that escaped.
Gregory slid his hands from my ass, gliding his touch up my back to grip my arms. He pushed me away just enough to break our contact.
“Take them off,” he commanded, his words a low gravel.
I blinked, my thoughts thick in the haze of pleasure.
“Your clothes.” His intensity deepened. “Take them off yourself, or I will rip them from your body. And I won’t be gentle about it.”
A violent quake went through my system, an electric jolt of pure anticipation.
My mind flooded with images of his hands transforming into claws, black and vicious, tearing through the delicate linen of the bodice.
I imagined them scraping against my skin, leaving trails of fire, marking me.
A broken whimper slipped from my lips, a half-plea.
I wanted it. God, I craved his claws on me.
I must have been lost in the thought, my body pliant and trembling on his lap, because his grip on my shoulders tightened, jolting me out of it.
“Now, Evan,” he barked out harsher, cutting through the fog. This wasn’t a request. It was an order from my alpha, and every nerve in my body jumped to attention.
I unhooked my legs from his waist and struggled to find balance as my boots hit the floor. I stood before him, caged between his knees, my own legs shaking so hard I thought I might collapse.
The weight of his scrutiny kept me frozen in place. Veins protruded along his neck and forearms, revealing his barely contained control.
I fumbled with the strap on my collarbone, still trembling. I struggled with the delicate hook, then met my alpha’s eyes with a silent plea for help.
“Yourself.” He clamped his hands down on the wooden arms of the chair, groaning under the strain.
Turning my back to him, I presented myself, and my fingers at last found the fastening. The strap came loose. I did the other, and the detached linen sleeves slid down my arms, pooling at my feet.
When I faced him again, Gregory’s focus fixed on my bare shoulders, his chest rising and falling in deep, measured breaths.
I gripped the laces of the bodice, and each loosening of the string was a small agony, exposing the thin shirt beneath.
I slid the garment off, letting it join the sleeves on the floor.
My whole body was on fire, slick with a fine sheen of sweat.
I was utterly exposed under his intense appraisal, and it was the most powerful feeling of my life.
Still in the thin shirt and trousers, my skin prickled under his unblinking regard. I braced against the chair’s arm for balance and kicked off my boots, first one, and then the other, each landing heavily.
I reached for the cords at my waist next, and Gregory tracked every fumbling movement as I shoved the trousers down and stepped free.
Left in only the long shirt and my underwear, I hesitated.
Then I grabbed the hem and slid the shirt up over my head in one quick motion, tossing it aside before I could lose my nerve.
That left only the thin, damp barrier of my underwear. The heat between my legs was undeniable, a slick wetness that had already soaked through the fabric. My length strained against the cotton, weeping its own fluid. I hooked my thumbs in the waistband and pushed them down as well.
I stood naked, arms crossed over my chest in a useless attempt to hide.
A trail of moisture traced from my entrance, curving down the inside of my thigh.
I couldn’t meet Gregory’s eyes, so I stared at the planks and the toes of his boots—anything but his face.
The silence stretched on, broken only by the harsh rasp of his breathing.
“Look at me.” His order bypassed my brain and went straight to my spine. I lifted my head. His eyes had gone black save for the crimson rings swallowing the blue, his pupils pinpricks of pure, predatory intent. He was the beast, and I was his.
“Closer.”
I closed the gap until my bare thighs almost brushed his knees. Caged between the arms of his seat, I was entirely at his mercy.
He raised his free hand to land on my lower back.
The contact was warm, wringing a gasp from my throat.
He slid lower, tracing my spine before his fingers dipped into the cleft of my ass to gather the slickness pooling there.
His thumb rubbed against my entrance in a faint, teasing circle that made my hips twitch.
He pulled his fingers away, and I followed the motion as he lifted his hand to his face, mesmerized. He ran them across his tongue, tasting me, his gaze never leaving mine.
It was the most depraved, animalistic thing I had ever witnessed.
He’d had his taste, though, and now he wanted more. He brought his hand up, fisting the front of his dark blue doublet.
“This,” he rasped. “Take it off me.”