Chapter 13
SOLEIL
Soleil didn’t know how long she lay on Santi’s living room floor, curled up in physical and emotional agony, her cheek pressed to the cool tiles.
Her wrist throbbed, a deep, grinding throbbing buried beneath the skin like an iron band crushing bone.
The sensation pulsed in rhythm with her heart, and each attempted movement felt like flinching through fire.
She tried to move, grimacing as she shifted her weight.
Her breath hitched. One arm braced. Then the other.
Every muscle protested. Her legs were weak under her, and her balance was off. She bit down hard on her bottom lip, refusing to make a sound.
She could not be seen in this state.
Not by him.
Grunting, she pushed up, her knees wobbling, and straightened her shirt, shaking her hands to flatten the hem.
She had just sat on a dining chair and tugged her hair back from her flushed cheeks when she caught the resonance of his heavy, booted footfalls on the exterior stairs, prowling on the terrace, heading to the door.
Her pulse spiked as the solid oak frame slid open.
He stepped in like a storm, broad-shouldered and dusky in the falling gold of the dusklight, only to stop cold as his gaze landed on her.
His head tilted, dark brows pulling together. ‘You okay, carino?’
She nodded, but he was already crossing to her.
His arms came around her, strong and sure, and she tensed against the instinct to flinch.
He held her steady, one palm curling behind her back, the other at her waist.
‘Easy there,’ he murmured, in a husky rasp that melted through her defenses. ‘You’re shaking. What’s wrong?’
She exhaled, not realizing until then that she’d been holding her breath.
Her voice wavered as she offered the lie. ‘Long day. While I might have recovered somewhat from my little escapade, I still have to build my strength.’
He nodded, studying her face, and she caught a flash of quiet worry. ‘Of course. Then let me take care of you today, like you did for me yesterday.’
Before she could respond, he was already guiding her to the couch.
She sank into the cushions, overwhelmed by fatigue and the urge to be taken care of.
The soft lap of lake water whispered through the open windows, as dusklight bled orange and plum across the wooden floor.
Santi knelt in front of her, his lips pressed together as he cradled her ankle, slipping off one sock and then the other, baring her feet.
Her eyes tracked the dark stubble on his jaw.
The fall of his hair on his sculpted cheek, those lush lips, the way he bit his tongue in concentration, breathing in his manliness and musk.
His thumbs circled her arches with surprising tenderness.
She gasped, then sighed, as the ache in her joints eased, replaced with a slow-burning warmth that spread from her heels to her spine.
She let her head slump back, eyes fluttering closed, her breath finally slowing.
The world narrowed to just this: his hands on her skin.
The gentle trace of the lake’s wind on her cheeks.
The scorching of his presence between her knees.
Minutes passed in silence, sacred and leisurely.
She sank into his massage, savoring the heat of his kneading touch on hers, until her nerves began to prickle.
Accompanied by an unseen shift in the room’s gravity.
She opened one eye and jolted at the torrid fever of his heated gaze on her.
It was a bare need, unmasked.
His gaze was molten, churning with want and restrained hunger. His hands stilled on her feet, but didn’t leave them.
‘Carino,’ he breathed, voice hoarse, dark lashes over eyes that burned like dusk-kissed embers. ‘You undo me.’
Her heart stuttered. She stared back, caught, her pulse thundering in her ears.
‘Every minute we’re apart feels like a century. The fact is, I miss you, beautiful, morning, afternoon, and evening. Woman, I yearn for you like I never thought possible. Question is, do you feel the same?’
Soleil froze to the spot, his words anchoring her, filling her with molten fire.
Damn.
She could’ve fled or pretended not to understand.
Still, she didn’t. Not this time.
SANTIAGO
Santi’s hands slowed in their massage, the pads of his thumbs lingering on the delicate arch of her instep.
The warmth of her skin pulsed against his palms, fragile and alive.
He let his gaze travel up her body, her bare soles on his lap.
Damn, they were so pretty.
Up, past her knees, her delectable hips and waist, the rise and fall of her breath beneath the soft fabric of her uniform.
The curve of her breasts in her jumpsuit, the flash of her tender flesh under it.
His cock hardened, throbbing with urgent need.
He cast his eyes back down, trying to force images of kittens into his mind as his hands glided over her feet, when all he wanted to do was grind his shaft into her.
Fokk.
It didn’t help that she closed her eyes again and lay back on a pillow, face flushed and so freakin’ sensual.
The same face, perhaps, when he’d make love to her.
The thought almost made him groan.
Still, he raked her features, memorizing them.
Her lashes were like a raven’s plush wing swept against her cheek, her lips parted, so wet and lush for him.
He couldn’t help himself.
His fingers slid from her foot up her shin.
He traced the indent of her knee and brushed her thigh with the softest graze of knuckles.
Her breath hitched.
Then he moved again, over her waist, her side, her arm, until he cupped her jaw, the cradle of her face resting against his calloused hand.
‘Woman, you got a fragrance I can’t resist. Heck, you’ve got an essence I want to savor. May I kiss you?’ he rasped, his utterance hoarse, deep, and gravel-thick with restraint.
Her eyes locked with his.
Those storm-drenched eyes, lit up with dusk and an emotion more profound than any he had ever experienced before, gripped him.
She nodded.
That fokkin’ nod shattered all his resolve.
His soul ignited like a fuse meeting flame.
He leaned in, aching for her lips.
His firm mouth brushed hers once.
Then again.
This time, she met him.
Her lips were plush, warm, yielding, nevertheless curious, tentative at first.
Then, braver and bolder, pulling him deeper.
She was nectar, like that of wild honey, rare and forbidden, yet soulfully familiar.
She was also the flavor of midsummer, of strawberries and whipped cream.
Fokk.
She made a sound, half sigh, part moan, and sensation rolled down his spine like thunder.
Her fingers threaded into his shirt as she tilted her head, opening to him, a blossom in bloom.
He responded with a rumble in his chest, deep and unguarded, sliding his other hand into her hair, deepening the kiss.
Her breath caught again, and he pressed closer, groaning into her mouth as their lips moved with mounting heat and urgency.
The world around them fell away, as did the lake’s hush, the whisper of the wind, the slow twilight descending beyond the terrace.
All of it disappeared within the kiss as he melded into her.
When he finally pulled back, dazed and panting, he didn’t release her.
His thumb stroked her cheekbone. Her eyes fluttered open, and he groaned under his breath. ‘You are freakin’ dangerous, mi sol. Not sure I can survive the heat of your light. Yet I can’t pretend I’m not in my feelings for you.’
She grinned, a little mischievous, a little breathless.
‘What’s it going to be, handsome?’ she murmured, voice husky, as if surprised by her moxie. ‘One minute, I’m too dangerous and heated for you. Next, you’re all about your feelings for me. So which is it to be, Santi Alvarro?’
He blinked, then growled, a quiet, intimate, wicked vibrato.
‘Woman,’ he said, his lips grazing the corner of her mouth, ‘let’s focus on the scorching for now. Any more fokkin’ objections before I proceed?’
Her breathy, broken-at-the-edges laugh was full of delight and disbelief, jolting him.
Fokk, she blew his mind.
She shook her head, biting her lip.
‘Didn’t think so,’ he murmured, then he kissed her again, with more fervency this time.
No more questions.
No more restraint.
Only the answer of mouths, the fire of tongues, and the truth that sparked between them like stars in collision.
SOLEIL
As his mouth met hers again, the world seemed to disappear.
The sounds outside and around them faded, and it was just the two of us in that quiet moment.
Lips melded, hearts palpitating, fingers stroking and exploring, over her clothes.
He pinched her nipples, then licked and sucking them through the fabric of her top, even as his hands glided between her legs.
He slid a hand under her leggings to stroke her pussy, and she arched her spine, wanting his fingers deeper in her.
His clasp was everything.
Strong, sinewed, firm, even as their tongues danced.
Each stroke and lick only fanned the flames that snaked to her pussy, scorching her clit and pulsing through her wet.
A storm was brewing, but on this pinnacle, all that mattered was the feel of his lips against hers, his hands working her to a lather.
It was like an electric current was coursing through her veins, and she set herself adrift in the moment.
Soleil reached for his hair, sunk her fingers in his locks, and held on for dear life as he ravaged her mouth, melting into his touch.
Moments later, he pushed her back until her spine hit the back of the divan.
He consumed her, his hands mapping the curves of her body.
She let him, urging him on with her cries.
She had never been so lost in the moment, so absorbed by passion, yet here she was, in his living room, moving with abandon against the man who had consumed her thoughts for weeks.
Santi’s eyes burned into hers, and the air around them split with a resonant crack.
The spectral echo of his wolf surged from his torso, an immense, shimmering beast of gold-veined violet rising above them.
The beautiful lycan lifted its head and howled with pure, electric force.
Bolts of violet energy coiled around them, dancing like celestial veins.
Soleil’s breath caught as the wolf’s majestic presence enveloped her.