27. Briar
brIAR
H is mouth crashes to mine and it feels like sparks leap up my spine as heat scorches away the cold that’s encapsulated my heart since the portal snapped shut.
His returned kiss feels like a claiming as his hand leaves my hair to find the base of my throat.
My head tilts back to deepen the kiss as his fingers tighten, and the feeling of my breath being stolen scrapes against the raw ache in my chest until it almost feels like relief.
His body crowds mine, all broad shoulders and heat, his hand tightening around me like he’s anchoring me to the here and now. The dizzying feeling of it twists the knot of need tighter in my stomach.
I should shove him off and remind myself who he is.
That he’s the last person I should ever let in like this after the hell I lived through because of him and his family.
Instead, my fingers fist in his shirt, dragging him nearer, because right now hatred feels a lot like oxygen and I desperately need it.
His lips bruise mine as I open for him, his tongue pushing past my defenses like he’s been waiting for this exact moment of surrender.
My pulse hammers so fast I swear he must be able to feel it through our brushing chests.
My body arches against him like it’s been waiting for this moment too–traitorous and desperate, betraying me with every shiver.
His thigh forces between mine, denim scraping against my sensitive bundle of nerves, and the shock of it knocks a small gasp from me. Heat curls low within my core and my hand drops from his hair, letting my nails drag across his broad shoulders, catching on hard curves of muscle.
“You think you need silence, but you don’t really,” he breathes out against my lips, panting slightly like he’s been committed to breathing me in instead of oxygen.
His mouth dips to drag along my jaw then, grazing softly enough to make my breath stutter until his lips rest at the shell of my ear once more. “What you need is for someone else to own every sound you make. You need me to be the only reason any cries pass your lips.”
A tremor rolls through me, because he’s right. That’s exactly what I want…to drown, to burn, to let him pull every scream from my throat until there’s nothing left to feel.
I should say no, but I can’t.
My nails drag down to the hard plane of his chest, the vibration of his heartbeat slamming under my palm. My lashes flutter as I look up at him and whisper, “And you think you’re up to the task?”
I barely recognize the husky tone of my voice, but I don’t question the desire that overtakes my mind and body.
His forehead presses to mine, close enough now that our breaths mingle. Heat crackles in the narrow space between us, every exhale fanning across my lips until I can’t tell if the trembling in my body is from rage, grief, or the way he looks at me.
“You’re shaking,” he murmurs, pulling back enough to sweep his eyes over me. His gaze pins me, unflinching. “And to think I haven’t even placed my tongue on you yet.”
What he offers is obliteration, the kind that swallows the ache whole until nothing else exists but the fire between us.
And god help me for giving into these urges at the worst possible moment of my life, but I need it.
The jagged edge of desire throbs through me, sharper than grief, louder than logic, but even through the haze I know that if I let this happen, nothing will ever be the same again.
Not between Elias and me. Not between me and Callum, or Dante.
I can’t help but let my mind explore the surging thoughts that follow.
If it had been Callum who walked through that door, with his reckless grin and easy warmth, would I have let him strip the pain from me instead? If it had been Dante, steady and logical for everyone else even when he’s unraveling, would I have reached for him?
The truth is a hard pill to swallow in its simplicity: I find them all alluring and dangerous in ways that draw me in. All three of them have seemed to lodge under my skin in their own right, splitting me in directions I can’t explain.
But it isn’t Callum standing here holding me together, and it isn’t Dante who crashed through the storm of my anger to stand by me now.
It’s Elias.
Ever since that first night we met on campus, we’ve always clashed together, unwilling to relent to each other.
It has a ruthless edge that feels all consuming, and even if I want to deny it–to keep from stroking his already inflated ego–I know he’s the only one who can give me the kind of destruction I’m begging for right now.
I force my chin up, meeting his eyes with a glare meant to bury the softer truth he’ll never hear from me. My pulse pounds too loud in my ears, my body trembling with a hunger I don’t want to admit belongs to him.
His lips curve into a knowing smirk. “Give yourself over to me, Briar. I’ll take care of you.”
My hands don’t know whether to push him away or pull him closer at that offer.
“I don’t want you to take care of me,” I whisper, my voice trembling lightly as I add, “I want you to devour me.”
The words barely leave my mouth before the air shifts with Elias’s grip immediately moving to my waist. Then I’m twisted from the wall, my back slamming into the mattress with a bounce that rattles through my bones.
He doesn’t climb on top of me like I expect him to, instead he remains standing at the side of the bed like a looming shadow of desire. His deep blue eyes spark with want, dragging over me until my skin prickles as if he’s already physically touched every inch of my body.
My chest heaves, heart racing against my ribs like it’s trying to break free.
I’ve never felt so utterly devoured by a gaze before, not even with my clothes still clinging to me.
It’s obscene how stripped I feel beneath the weight of his stare, as if he’s already taken me apart and catalogued every inch of how to make me tick.
His hands begin to follow the path of his eyes, sliding down the length of my legs as he leans over, palms rough against bare skin until they curl at the waistband of my shorts.
A shiver passes through me at the soft drag of his fingers, settling low in my belly as his touch lingers there, heavy with intent.
For the first time, there’s no excuse for us to deny this need for each other. No haze of my blood clouding his judgment. No compulsion or manipulation. Just us wanting each other with nothing standing in the way.
His gaze flicks up, catching mine, like he’s waiting for any doubt to cross over my features before he continues.
Slowly, deliberately, he peels my shorts down my legs, leaving me bare to him.
The brush of fabric against my thighs feels louder than my breathing, and somehow much louder than the frantic pounding of my heart.
It’s proof of just how far gone I am.
“Just know,” he says, voice rough and threaded with restraint that seems like it’s tearing him apart, “I’m not going to be able to stop once I start. So this is your last opportunity to change your mind.”
My pulse stutters, not from hesitation, but excitement. My lips curl, sharp with attitude even as my body trembles with need. “You better have the skill to back up that mouth of yours.”
For a heartbeat there’s silence as we stare at each other. Then his grin flashes, wolfish in the predatory glint I see there, like I’ve just unleashed the side of him I should never have dared to provoke.
The challenge has barely left my mouth before Elias answers it with action.
He yanks my shorts the rest of the way off in one rough motion, the fabric tangling for a second around my ankles before he drags my body roughly to the edge of the mattress.
A startled gasp rips out of me as my hips slide over the cover, his strength leaving no room for argument, no room for second thoughts.
And then he drops to his knees.
The sight nearly unravels me–the enigmatic Elias kneeling between my thighs, prying me open without hesitation, his gaze devouring me like I’m the only thing in the world he’s ever wanted.
He lifts my legs and settles them over his broad shoulders, palms anchoring me in place as his arms curl around to settle at the tops of my thighs.
It’s rougher than anyone has ever been with me.
There’s no gentleness or careful worry that I’ll break like the fragile princess previous lovers have always assumed I am.
For the first time, someone isn’t treating me like I might shatter.
My teeth sink into my lower lip hard enough to sting as realization floods me.
I like it. I like the way he handles me like he already knows I can take everything he wants to give.
Elias’s gaze locks with mine as his mouth lowers, the brush of his lips a hair’s breadth from my heat.
He rasps out, “Every moan that leaves your mouth tonight belongs to me, and I’m not stopping until you admit it.”
The words vibrate through me like a second heartbeat.
“That’s never going to ha–”
My words are cut off as his tongue flicks against me, ruthless and sure, like he’s known my body all along. The sound that tears out of me is a mixture of a gasp and moan, and I slam my teeth together to bite back the rest, desperate not to give him the satisfaction of my noise after my sass.
It doesn’t matter, though. He heard it and likely felt my body tensing under him.
A deep chuckle vibrates against my pussy, the sensation rolling straight through me until my thighs twitch against his shoulders.
His hand slides between us, fingers parting me with critical precision, and then his mouth is everywhere.
His tongue strokes deeper, circling around my clit, and doubles down until my spine bows off the bed in pleasure.