CHAPTER FIFTEEN #2
“Elliot!” Her arms loop instinctively around my neck, and I grin shamelessly.
“What? Doctor’s orders.”
“You’re impossible, and I’m not a doctor.”
“And yet you keep kissing me anyway.”
The crowd whistles again as I carry her past the bonfire.
“DON’T DO ANYTHING WE WOULDN’T DO!”
“That eliminates nothing!” someone yells back.
Catherine buries her burning face against my shoulder while I laugh, waving over my shoulder toward my friends.
“Goodnight, degenerates!”
“USE PROTECTION!” someone else hollers from near the fire.
“They did not!” Catherine groans into my chest.
I’m still laughing as I carry her down the dock toward my boat, moonlight dancing across the dark ocean water around us. Her body relaxes against mine the farther we get from the noise of the party until eventually she lets out a soft sigh.
And for the first time all night, the restless tension inside me eases.
“Sit, now,” Catherine demands, pointing to the large teal faux-leather armchair in the living room.
I do as she commands, melting into the buttery-soft surface with a groan.
Adrenaline still hums beneath my skin, my cheek throbbing where the hit landed, but the sight of her pacing into the kitchen does far more damage to my pulse than the punch ever did.
I hear cabinets opening, the clink of glass, her muttering under her breath.
A moment later she returns holding a bottle of ibuprofen, a glass of water, and a reusable silicone bag full of ice. A strand of dark hair has fallen loose from her braid, brushing her flushed cheek.
I take the pills from her hand, letting my fingers drag against hers longer than necessary before finishing the water in one swallow. She kneels in front of me and gently presses the ice pack to my face. The cold bites, but her touch is warm. Careful. Distractingly soft.
“Thank you,” I murmur, watching her from beneath heavy lids. “I could’ve gotten my own ice pack. He barely clipped my cheekbone, not chomped off my leg.”
My hand closes over hers before she can pull away.
“Well, I had to make sure you weren’t concussed.” Her voice goes quiet, almost scolding. “He got you pretty hard.”
“Just a flesh wound. Nothing I won’t recover from.”
She grips my jaw, tilting my head left, then right, studying me with narrowed eyes. Her fingertips trace the corner of my mouth and linger there.
“You bit your lip.”
“It’ll heal quickly.” I shrug lazily. “Especially if you kiss it better.”
Her eyes flick up to mine, heat flashing through them so quickly I almost miss it.
“Oh, you’re impossible.”
“Just one little kiss?”
I let the ice pack fall into my lap and reach up, dragging my thumb lightly across her bottom lip. Her breath catches. Slowly, deliberately, the tip of her tongue flicks out and grazes the pad of my thumb.
Every coherent thought leaves my body.
My other hand slides to her hip, fingers curling into the soft flesh there as I pull her half a step closer until her knees brush mine.
“Just one?” she asks breathlessly, though she’s already leaning in.
“Well… maybe two.”
I slide my hand into her hair, gripping the nape of her neck. Her braid is falling apart now, silky strands slipping through my fingers as I tug her closer.
Her palms brace on either side of my head against the chair as she climbs into my lap, straddling me in one smooth motion that nearly tears a groan from my chest. The thin fabric of her cotton undergarment and sundress does nothing to hide the heat of her pressed against me.
“Now you’re getting greedy.” Her lips hover just above mine.
“What can I say?” My gaze drops to her mouth. “You put a spell on me.”
“I did no such thing.”
“No?” I trace my thumb along her thigh, feeling the tiny shiver it pulls from her. “Then why can’t I think about anything except you?”
Her breath stutters.
Victory.
“No, that’s true,” I continue softly, my forehead resting against hers. “But you know what else you didn’t do?”
“What’s that?”
“You didn’t lose control of your magic. Not once tonight.” My hand cups the side of her face gently now, all teasing stripped away for something warmer. More dangerous. “I’m proud of you, Wren.”
The expression on her face nearly undoes me completely.
Before she can respond, I pull her down the last inch and kiss her.
She melts against me instantly, one hand threading through my hair while the other grips my shoulder. The kiss starts soft, almost tentative, but the second she sighs into my mouth, restraint snaps. My hands tighten on her hips, dragging her flush against me until there’s no space left between us.
Heaven. Absolute heaven.
And judging by the way her nails dig into my neck when I deepen the kiss, she feels it too.
“Elliot.”
My mate. My mate.
“What are your plans tonight, little Wren?” I kiss slowly down her throat to the sensitive spot at the crook of her neck. She arches, giving me better access.
“My plans?”
“Yes. You said I needed nursing.” I nip at the delicate hollow above her collarbone and she gasps, squirming in my lap. I groan at the movement, hips thrusting of their own accord.
“Oh, yes. My plans…” Her reply trails off as I catch the strap of her sundress between my teeth, dragging it off her shoulder. Her breasts press against me, nipples hardening as I lick the spot I’d just nipped.
Her eyes flutter open as my hands trace the long lines of her bare back, only the thin slip of cotton separating me from feasting on her.
“Your plans?” I pause, raising a brow.
She clears her throat, hands venturing to the front of my shirt where she fingers a shell button.
“I should check you for more injuries,” she says, slipping one button free after another, undoing my shirt and exposing my chest.
Her body twists in my lap, chasing friction, chasing warmth, trying to get impossibly closer—then she stills completely.
The realization hits us both at once.
Heat floods my entire body as she feels exactly what every movement of her hips has done to me through my swim trunks. My breath catches hard in my throat, pulse pounding so violently I swear she has to feel it beneath her palms.
For one terrible second, I wait for her to pull away.
Instead, she leans in.
A soft, breathy sound leaves her as she rolls her hips over me slowly, deliberately, as though she enjoys the effect she’s having.
My head falls back against the chair with a strained groan when she buries her face into my neck, her lips brushing my skin before her tongue drags lightly up my throat.
“Wren…” Her name leaves my mouth like a warning and a prayer all at once.
But she only presses closer.
My head swims from the movement, from her heat, from the intoxicating scent of saltwater and jasmine clinging to her skin. It surrounds me completely, rich and sweet enough to drown in.
I could lose myself in it for hours, for lifetimes.
Every inch of her feels addictive.
And all I can think about is her.
The way she’s breathing harder now. The tiny tremble in her hips every time I grip her tighter. The soft sounds she keeps making against my throat like she can’t help herself.
I want this. I want all of this.
I want to kiss her until neither of us remembers how this started. I want to ruin every careful thought in her head until all she can think about is me. I want to make her fall apart in my arms and hear my name spill from her lips like it belongs there.
My hands glide lightly up her back, fingertips tracing beneath the edge of her dress, and she inhales sharply.
“That’s not fair,” I murmur roughly, my mouth brushing her ear.
“What isn’t?” she whispers, still rolling her hips against me with maddening slowness.
“The fact that you have no idea what you’re doing to me right now.”
“Do you want me to stop?”
“No,” I growl into her neck before gently biting at her skin, careful not to break it.
I wouldn’t do that to her. Bond her to me without her acknowledgment or consent.
But I don’t want her to stop
Even if it’s just for tonight.
Just for the summer.