Chapter 16 #3
I kissed him back, my hands sliding up his chest to curl around the back of his neck.
The kiss deepened, grew more urgent. My tears were still wet on my cheeks, but I didn't care.
All I cared about was the way his mouth moved against mine, the smooth curve of his tusks framing his lips, the way they pressed gently against my cheek as he tilted his head to deepen the kiss.
The tusks were warm and surprisingly smooth—almost silken—and they felt otherworldly against my skin, a reminder of exactly how different he was from me.
How impossible this was. How much I wanted it anyway.
His hands tightened on my waist, pulling me closer. I wanted him. God, I wanted him so badly it ached. Wanted to crawl inside his arms and stay there, safe and warm and protected.
His fingers threaded through my hair, tilting my head to deepen the kiss further.
I made a sound—half sob, half moan—and pressed myself against him, never wanting to let him go.
Never wanting this to end. I felt the edge of his tusk brush against my jaw, smooth and cool, and it sent a shiver through me that had nothing to do with fear.
When we finally broke apart, both breathing hard, his forehead rested against mine. His eyes were dark, intense, searching my face.
"The rules," I whispered. "We said—"
"One last time," he said, his voice rough. "Let me have you one last time."
I should have said no. Should have reminded him that we were back in the real world now, that the cabin was behind us. Should have been professional and appropriate and all the things a lawyer was supposed to be.
Instead, I kissed him.
He made a sound low in his throat and kissed me back, his hands tangling in my hair.
It was desperate and hungry and nothing like the careful, controlled intimacy we'd shared at the cabin.
I felt the press of his tusks against my lips, smooth and insistent, and it made my breath catch.
This was raw. Real. A claiming and a surrender all at once.
"Here?" he asked against my lips, and I heard the question beneath the question. Are you sure? In your office? In the real world?
"Here," I confirmed. "Now."
Kael walked over and since he'd broken the lock to get to me, sat a chair against the door, then returned and lifted me onto the desk, scattering papers and mail onto the floor.
I didn't care. Didn't care about anything except the feel of his hands on my body, the taste of his mouth, the way he looked at me like I was everything.
"Sarah," he breathed, his forehead pressed to mine. "Tell me you want this."
"I want this," I said. "I want you. One last time."
The words were a lie. I knew it even as I said them. This wouldn't be the last time. Couldn't be. Not when every touch felt like coming home, not when every kiss tasted like forever.
But I said it anyway, because the truth was too terrifying to speak aloud.
He kissed me again, slower this time, and I felt myself melting into him. His hands found the buttons of my blouse, and I helped him, suddenly desperate to feel his skin against mine.
"You're sure?" he asked one more time, even as his fingers traced the edge of my bra. "Here? Like this?"
"I'm sure," I said. "I need this. I need you."
And I did. Needed to reclaim this space, this office with my name on the door. Needed to replace the memory of Dawson's hand on my throat with the memory of Kael's hands on my body. Needed to feel alive and wanted and safe.
He seemed to understand without me having to explain. His touch gentled, became reverent, like he was worshipping rather than taking.
"You're so beautiful," he murmured against my skin. "So fucking beautiful."
I pulled him closer, wrapping my legs around his waist, and felt him shudder against me.
His mouth found my neck, teeth grazing the sensitive skin there, and I gasped. Not hard enough to hurt—just enough to remind me of his strength, of the control he was exercising for my sake. His tusks brushed against my jaw, and the sensation sent heat pooling low in my belly.
"Kael," I breathed, and his name on my lips seemed to undo something in him.
Then I was being lifted, positioned on the edge of the polished wood. He stepped between my thighs, his hands spanning my waist, thumbs stroking the bare skin where my blouse had come untucked.
"Tell me what you need," he said, his voice rough.
"Just touch me," I said. "Make me forget everything but this."
His hands slid up my sides, taking my blouse with them.
I raised my arms and let him pull it over my head, let him see me in the soft lamplight of my office.
His eyes darkened as they traced over me, and I felt powerful under that gaze—desired in a way that had nothing to do with possession and everything to do with genuine want.
He unhooked my bra with surprising dexterity, and then his mouth was on my breast, tongue circling my nipple until I arched into him with a moan. His hand cupped my other breast, thumb brushing over the sensitive peak, and I threaded my fingers through his hair, holding him to me.
"More," I whispered. "Please, Kael, more."