Chapter 9
“I’ll stay.” It’s the hard-won reassurance, not the rain soaking my shirt, which causes chills to erupt over my skin.
She did always know how to reach me bone deep.
“Say it again.” There’s no shame in my desperation as I step closer to her, needing to see the honesty in her eyes when she says it. “Make me believe it.” Sliding her hands up over her head, I pin her against the wet stone structure.
Through her shuddering breaths that mist in the air, she grants my request. “I’m staying.” Her chest heaves with the effort to submit.
I can almost taste the fear, hope, and something defiant in the air. I don’t dare assume that it’s going to be this simple to keep her here, but I allow myself a few moments of relief.
Rolling thunder growls overhead, nearly drowning her out, but I read the words on her lips all the same. A smarter man might consider it ominous, but nothing between us has ever been sunny skies. We were made to weather the storm.
Besides, the first night she let me hold her—the night I died and came back to an entirely new understanding of the world—was one just like this. Cold, raining, with the winds of change whipping around us, and something ominous looming just beyond our sight.
Instead of menacing, I prefer to view it as symmetry, a reassurance that this is how things should be. We’re on the right path.
Our lips meet, and I have to steady myself, gripping the door frame, because I could tumble into the abyss of her scent, her touch, her mouth on mine. That sweet, hesitant mouth.
She looks up at me through wet lashes, her rich copper eyes like pools of honey that I could sink into. Sweet and warm, like the love I know she has to offer if she would let her guard down. I miss basking in her affection, but I can get that Sol back.
Overcome with the rightness of it, I grab her, lifting her off the ground and shoving through the door.
“Put me down.” Of course, I don’t. Having her in my arms is my favorite thing. “You’re going to throw out your damn back. That’s the last thing we need.” And yet, the first genuine smile I’ve seen from her crests like a sunrise. “I mean it.”
“We?” It’s so nice to hear that I nearly buckle at the knees, but I make it to the bier, so my hands can be put to better use.
It’ll hold her casket—the one I’ve had custom-designed in black and green—but right now it’s the perfect surface to hold my most prized possession while I show her just how special she is to me.
The gasp that leaves her could be the wind being knocked out of her. I’m interpreting it as the expelling of the confession of need she’s tried so hard to hide. She needs this, but more than that, she wants this.
Remembering the terrain of this heaven well, my hands travel up her thighs to the hills and valleys of her stomach, then breasts, where I slowly undo the simple leather corset around her waist while kissing along the cleavage that’s begging for my attention.
“We can’t just fuck our problems away,” she argues flimsily with lust in her eyes.
“We should try, just so we can rule it out as a solution. Don’t you think?
” I don’t wait for an answer. In a singular motion, I tear the vee of her sweater deeper, exposing the sheer lace of her bra and the spiderweb tattoos that cover each breast. The mere sight of the symbol, the one that calls back to the first nickname I ever gave to her, Little Spider, fractures all of my restraint as I tease her nipple through the wet fabric.
Despite the frigid chill of her clothing, the warmth of her hand at the base of my neck encourages me.
“Oh god.” She arches into my mouth.
“A god could never offer the devotion I do,” I swear across her skin as I turn my attention to the other breast. This time, I peel down the lace, needing my mouth directly on her skin, eager to strip away any barriers left between us.
I know it’ll take more than this, that I’m going to have to work to peel back all of the protective walls she’s built up, but I’m more than happy to start here.
“You’re right,” she concedes as she writhes against me, saying so much with so few words.
Forcing myself between her legs, I tug her top down and remove her bra, my fingers capturing her glistening nipples.
Gray light slips between the panels of amber-stained glass, casting her in a soft glow as she tosses her head back.
My dark goddess is soaking in the worship I offer with my mouth.
“Fuck. How have you become even more beautiful?”
Her hushed moan in response calls to the famished man that’s been trapped inside of me, waiting for her return.
“Don’t you dare try to be quiet, Nightingale.
” Taking a sensitive peak between my teeth, I don’t give her a choice.
Sol groans, her hips rising as she tries to force more of herself into my mouth.
This was always her favorite foreplay. Even a featherlight touch could have her levitating and contorting, a pretty embodiment of pleasure possessing her.
“Thorne,” she pleads for mercy.
I don’t relent. Instead, I suck harder, laving her with the attention of my tongue. My fingers dig into her thighs that overflow from my grasp.
“Thorne,” she gasps again as her fingers work quickly to undo the few buttons at the bottom of my shirt. Soft hands roam across the muscular plane of my lower stomach and up my chest, the needy exploration setting my skin ablaze.
“I need to taste you.” I skim my teeth over her throat, mouth watering.
“Need to remind you that this pussy is mine.” The ghost of my heart stutters to the pace of her uneven breathing.
Dragging her to the edge, I drop to my knees and hike up the long satin skirt she’s wearing, then press my nose to the front of her panties.
“Fuck, I wish I could bottle the scent of you and bathe in it.” With a mind of its own, my tongue edges the side of her underwear while I inhale deeply. “Has this pussy missed me?”
Her only answer is the tilt of her hips.
“That’s it, speak with your body. I don’t need your words; I understand just fine, always have.”
One hand gripping her knee and the other diving between her legs to pull that thin piece of fabric to the side, I run my tongue over her sensitive flesh.
Sol grabs at my shoulders as her body jolts with surprise.
“Hold on, baby.” It’s the only warning I give before my tongue splits her and traces her wet center.
“All this for me and you’re trying to pretend like this is something you could walk away from again?
You never were very good at hiding things from me.
But this? This you’ll never keep from me.
” Pointedly, I plunge into her, and she buckles forward, cradling my head against her stomach.
I get comfortable in the soft warmth of her skin.
We’re playing a unique game of truth or dare. Her daring me to push her over the edge. Me trying to force the truth of her desire from her. She doesn’t stand a chance as I suck and tongue fuck her pretty pussy.
“Come on, let go. Open up to me. You’re safe now. You can enjoy it.”
A quiet moan slips between her lips—a mix of reluctance and relief.
“Such a beautiful sound. It’s been the soundtrack to my dreams for so long. Can’t you give me a few more?”
“Don’t stop,” she whispers, and I comply, capturing her clit between my lips. Those delicious thighs tighten around me; an anaconda I’d gladly feed. Encouraging her with a stroking tongue, I coax her closer to the orgasm she attempts to deny with her tense muscles and tight lips.
I’ve never been one to back away from a challenge, especially when it comes to her. “Come for me,” I command against her. She’s helpless to deny me as I increase the pressure on her swollen clit.
“Hawthorne, that’s, I’m—” Her head falls back in ecstasy.
Between the spasming muscles of her legs, I peer up at her, helpless but to witness the work of art that she is.
As the last waves of her orgasm wash over her, I savor the sounds of her sated, ragged breathing until the ache of my dick is too intense to ignore.
Standing, I gently grab her chin and draw her to me so she can taste her release on my lips.
“That’s my girl, falling apart so perfectly for me,” I praise as I slide my tongue against hers while I drag her panties back into place.
“Don’t worry, all that wetness leaking between your thighs won’t go to waste. ”
Sol breaks away, her eyes flaring as I undo my belt and free my hard length. She watches with rapt attention as I take myself in my hand. The rhythm of my slow strokes is a metronome that hypnotizes her. The spell is broken when I press the head against the front of her panties.
Snatching the breath she tries to take, I fuse our mouths together, sucking intently.
Taking a step back, I open my mouth and let all the spit I stole pour over my dick.
Capturing it in my fist again, I coat my shaft with it, then grind my hips forward, pushing the head up against her wet panties.
Even with the fabric between us, the sensation is euphoric.
“This pussy is going to be the death of me,” I groan as I drive myself up and down her center, her slick lips parting for me so easily.
“Do you feel how badly you need me? How your pussy drips for me, tempting me, giving me everything without me even having to ask.” I lift the fabric and slide underneath it, then pull the sides taut, giving us an obscene view of me bulging through it as I drive myself between her swollen pussy lips.
I don’t enter her, but I might as well be fucking her with the way each stroke sends her hips upward, begging for more.
“Fuck, that feels so good.” She inhales sharply as I jerk my hips forward, forcing the crown over her clit in hard, slow thrusts.