34. You Were Distracting Me #3
I glance at the discarded book. “Honestly, I’m not sure I learned all that much.”
An amused half chuckle, half growl emits from Gabriel’s chest. I didn’t even know it was possible for a person to make such a sound.
“I see. Allow me to take over your education for the day.” He leans in close, his breath warming my lips. “You’re going to be a good girl and listen to me, okay?”
I inhale sharply. “Yes,” I breathe, because what else can I say?
“Good,” he rumbles. “Now pay attention, Birdie, because I’ve noticed you. I’ve been watching you, studying your every movement.”
Maybe his statement should scare me, but it doesn’t. Instead, warmth unfurls within me. He sees me. Has anyone ever done that before?
Gabriel leans down, capturing my lips with his. The kiss is gentle. Soft, even. It’s over far too soon, and a whimper escapes me.
“I’ve been dreaming about you, too.” He rests his weight on his arms and looks at me with mossy eyes. “Every gods-damned night, you haunt me.”
He kisses me again, a little harder. Again, he pulls back far too soon. I let out a whine of frustration, and he chuckles.
“You captivated my attention the first day we met, Wren Nightingale.”
“From the moment you opened your eyes?”
My words are teasing, but his eyes are completely serious as he nods. “Yes. And when you said I could bite you, I knew you were special.”
That is one of the top-five most embarrassing moments in my whole life. I avert my gaze, and my cheeks heat, but he chuckles. “No, Birdie. Don’t be embarrassed. You intrigued me, even then.” He tilts his head. “Did you know you evaded me longer than anyone else I hunted?”
I didn’t know that, and I tell him as much.
Another brush of his lips against mine, this one to the corner of my mouth. My breath escapes me on a gasp. Is he trying to torture me?
Knowing him, the answer is probably yes.
“You did. You ran hard and fast, and you were far smarter than I gave you credit for.”
“Thank you, I think?” What else does one say when their ability to run for their life is being complimented? It’s not like I had much of a choice—it was either remain one step ahead of him or die.
A low laugh rumbles through Gabriel, and fucking gods, it feels like it touches every part of me.
“It’s a compliment.” The Hunter’s eyes twinkle. “You are smart and brave and compassionate, Wren. You went back into Mora to warn the other Given, and you went so far as to bring one of them with you. You risked yourself for that—no one else would’ve done that.”
“Some people might have,” I counter. “I couldn’t leave them there. Not when I knew what was in store for them.”
Silver daggers. Screams. Priestesses chanting. Blood. And death. So much death.
“Exactly.” Gabriel’s voice draws my attention back to him. “That’s your heart talking, Wren. You are incredible.”
His lips meet mine, and I reach for his tunic to tug him closer, but he pulls away again. Frustrating man.
“Gabe,” I huff, wiggling beneath him.
He languidly presses a series of kisses to my cheek. My nose. My Mark. Each one sends warmth running through me until I feel like I’m on the brink of burning up from the inside out.
“You are beautiful, yes, but you are so much more than that.” He tucks a curl behind my ear. “You captivate me. Every word you speak, every movement you make, everything you do entrances me. I am ensnared by you, my little bird, and I never want to be freed from your trap.”
His name escapes me on a whimper.
“You distract me by existing in the same room. When you are present, I cannot do anything except think about you. You command my attention every moment of every gods-damned day, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Then finally, he lowers his lips to mine.
And this kiss.
Gods fucking above, this kiss is not like the others we’ve shared. It is not soft or gentle or brief. His lips move over mine urgently. Deeply. Passionately. As if every other kiss has been nothing but practice for this.
There is a desperation in this. A need I’ve never felt. He kisses me as though he is a man starved and this is the only way he’ll survive.
I’m not sure if it’s the time we’ve spent together, the fact that each day, the glances we’ve exchanged have become more weighted and the air between us has grown heavier, or the fledgling bond, but this kiss is not enough.
“I need you,” I half whisper, half moan against the Hunter’s lips. My pulse is tripping over itself, and all of me feels too hot. “Please.”
He gives me another searing kiss before pulling back. His lips are puffy, and his eyes are a dark green as they search mine. Every second feels too long, every moment where he isn’t kissing me feels more torturous than the last.
“Okay,” he says.
I thought he’d reach for me and press me down, touch me where I need him most, but he doesn’t. Instead, he stands. I am bereft of his weight, but before I can mourn the loss, he extends a hand towards me.
“I need you, too, Wren.” His voice is deep and raspy, and desire pools low in my stomach at the bulge straining against his pants. “Let’s take this back to our cabin.”
I’ve never moved faster.