Chapter 2 #3
I run my tongue up and stop just short of her clit, and I hold there, not breathing, not moving.
Her hips rock forward in desperation.
I drag the flat of my tongue up over her clit slowly, full pressure, and seal my lips around it and suck.
“Oh.” It punches out of her. “Oh.”
I release and circle her clit with the tip of my tongue in tight passes.
I know exactly what she needs, and I give her slightly less than that, building in increments.
Her thighs press against my shoulders. Her free hand grips the edge of the desk.
When her hips are moving steadily with me, I slide two fingers inside her and feel her clench hard around them, and I curl them forward while my tongue keeps its rhythm, steady and merciless, and I don’t stop.
“Maximus.” Her voice breaks on the second syllable. “Please.”
I increase the pressure and speed.
Her head drops back, her grip tight on the desk. Her whole body shaking.
She comes hard, hips rolling against my mouth, and it hits me like a live current.
I guide her through it, hands spread on her thighs, and I stay there until the shaking eases.
Then I soften my tongue and make one slow, easy pass over her, gentler than before, and feel her shiver with it. Her grip in my hair goes loose.
I press my mouth to the inside of her knee once. Then I pick her underwear up from the floor and slide them back up her legs. The leggings follow. I smooth them into place. I rest my forehead against her knee. Her hand moves from my hair to the back of my neck.
Her breathing changes. A hitch. Then another.
“Why did you do that?” Her voice is unsteady. “You’re angry with me. You left. You walked out the front door, and you didn’t come back for a full day. We haven’t even talked about it. And then you sit down and you…” She stops. Swallows. “Why?”
I lift my head.
She’s crying. Not the way she cried in the passage after the trigger broke, not the graceless kind she buried in my chest. This is quiet. Tears tracking down her face without sound, her jaw locked against the rest of it. She’s looking at me like she doesn’t understand what I just gave her.
“Because you’re mine,” I say. “Being angry with you doesn’t change that. Nothing changes that.”
Her lips press together. More tears. She lets them fall.
“I thought you might not come back. I thought you might not want me.”
What it cost her arrives in one wave.
“I’ll always come back,” I say. “I’ll always want you. That’s not negotiable.”
She nods once. Her hand tightens on the back of my neck.
“I’m sorry.” She wipes her face with the back of her hand. “About the ring. About all of it.”
“The ring isn’t your fault.” I stand and take her face in my hands. Brush the wetness from under her eyes with my thumbs. I hate to see her cry. I want to destroy anything that causes her pain.“Konstantin was already in position. That’s his strategy, not your failure.”
“I was out there alone.”
“Yes.” I hold her gaze. My thumbs still on her cheeks. “And we’ll fix that. But I need you to hear something.”
She goes still.
“You were furious with me when I used you as bait. And then I apologized and benched you from every field operation because I couldn’t stand the thought of you in danger again. You told me how that made you feel. That I was making choices for you instead of with you. I heard you. I changed.”
She holds my eyes. Neither of us moves.
“And then you spent six mornings lying beside me pretending to go under. Training alone with an ability neither of us understands. Coming back and saying nothing. Every one of those was a decision you made about our lives without me. I’m your partner, Celeste. Not someone you manage.”
The muscle at her temple jumps. Fresh tears. But, this has to be said. She opens her mouth and then closes it. Her hands come up and grip my wrists where I’m still holding her face.
“You’re right,” she says. Her voice cracks on the second word. “I know you’re right.”
“I know you do.” I press my forehead to hers. Let her breathe. She’s shaking, and I’m the reason, but I’m also the only thing she’s holding onto.
“I’m not making an excuse.” Her grip tightens on my wrists.
“I’ve been taking care of myself for a long time.
Before you, before all of this. If there was a problem, I handled it.
If something was wrong, I fixed it. Bringing someone else into that has never been how I operate.
” She looks back at me. “That’s not an excuse.
I know how it sounds. I know what it looks like. ”
“It looks like what you accused me of.”
“Yes.” The word comes out steady even though her face is wet. “It does.” She meets my eyes. “And I’m not going to keep doing that. I mean it.”
I look at her for a long moment.
“I know you mean it,” I say.
She reaches for the back of my head.
I push her hair back from her face. She turns her cheek into my hand.
I pull her in. She slides off the desk, her forehead dropping to my shoulder. We stay like that for a while.
The ring will come back. But she’s with me now. And that’s what matters.