Chapter 30 #2
But, I’m kissing him back with the same exploring hunger I had in the tower, my hands fisting in his shirt, my body opening up instead of running away.
He responds by kissing me still like I’m made of glass, like I might disappear at any moment.
Then his strong hands are moving down, massaging my back, over that billowy shirt, encircling my waist.
He grips me there, once, then pushes me away, stopping us from going further. “Let’s not do this again. I mean…I shouldn’t.”
I stumble back, blinking up at him. “But imagine the damage you’ll do when you should.” It just comes out, breathless and bold. Not me at all.
The frown on his face is comical. “You’re quoting me now?”
“Am I not allowed to?”
“You wanted to kill me a second ago.”
“That was before.” Troy telling me another detail about my sister that no one outside our family would probably know has taken all the doubt away. Nell was a great swimmer. She said she felt free in the water. She was an amazing singer, too.
“And now?”
“How about…I kill you after we kiss.” At the worst times, I make bad jokes.
But he cocks a brow, for once, a smirk on his lips. It suits him. “Like a black widow.”
I frown. “I’m not the cannibal here.”
“Ah, you have been listening to all the hearsay.”
“So it’s not true.”
His eyes glint in the firelight. “Not in the way you mean.”
Oh.
A few heartbeats thud in my ears as I remember him holding me down on the kitchen counter while his tongue unraveled me.
Then.
“You didn’t finish last time.”
That makes him pause. Suddenly, the big and scary Troy Severin looks unsure. I quite like it.
“Sage.” His voice is rough, almost strained. Like he’s warning me, but he hasn’t moved away. “You don’t know what you’re asking.”
“Yes, I do.” I reach up, fingers grazing his jaw, feeling the stubble rough against my skin. “I know now what I want, and it’s you…”
He catches my wrist, but he doesn’t move my hand.
Instead, his thumb finds my pulse point, stroking it slowly, deliberately.
Like he’s counting how fast my heart is racing.
He’s so warm, so solid, so real, not like the cold nightmare of my dreams. He feels like the only real thing in my entire life.
“I want you to make me come.” I wet my lips with my tongue. “Please.”
He closes his eyes and visibly shudders. His eyes are so intense when he opens them, I can barely breathe. “Now, why would you want that?”
I blush so much my face hurts. “Because no one’s ever…” The shirt has slipped off one shoulder. I can feel the cool air on my skin, feel his eyes tracking the movement. My voice comes out breathier than I intended. “…given me one before.”
My ears feel like they’re burning.
“No one?” He cocks his head.
“Well, myself, but…” I find myself staring at his black t-shirt. Type O Negative in neon green emblazoned across the top of it—Nell’s favorite band.
“Sage.”
“What?”
“Look at me. Because right now, I’m holding back.”
“Then stop holding back.”
“I did that in the tower, and look what happened.”
“I don’t think you killed Nell anymore.”
And deep down, I know that that’s true. But I shove all thoughts of Nell away. I can’t think of her right now. And strangely, she’s deathly quiet.
“You really want me to be the first one?”
I bite my lip. I can’t tell him that he already has every night in my dreams. That I’m so wound up, I can’t think straight unless he gets me off here and now. I’m too embarrassed.
“Yes?”
His gaze drops to my bare shoulder, then slowly drags back up to my face. The heat in his eyes makes my stomach flip. “Careful, little finch. You’re playing with fire.”
“Fire doesn’t scare me.”
Something in his expression shifts. His jaw clenches.
Then, in one smooth motion, he pulls me flush against him, twisting my arm behind my back so I can’t move.
I gasp at the sudden contact; every inch of him pressed against me as the shirt I’m wearing rides up.
And when I try to pull away, and I don’t try too hard, he grips harder.
I can feel him, rock-solid through his joggers. The thought that I’m causing him to be like that sends dark pleasure down my spine.
“You want to know what scares me?” His voice is rough, almost harsh.
“What?”
“What I want to do to you. That’s what.”
“Then do it.”
“I won’t be…I can’t be gentle.”
My heart is hammering so much I’m sure he can feel it.
His arm around me is unmovable, like steel.
I’m not wearing anything under the shirt.
He could do whatever he wanted to me right now, and I couldn’t do anything.
Where would I run? Where would I go? I’m on an island.
I should be afraid, but I’m not. I’m the opposite of that.
“I don’t want you to be.”
He kisses me again, but harder this time.
More cruel. His mouth claims mine like he’s done being nice.
Every suck takes my breath, every bite bruises.
His tongue strokes inside my mouth, and I moan at his taste, kissing him back full of want and need, my hands twist in his shirt, tugging, pulling him closer.
We’re moving. He’s turned me around and is walking me backward, guiding me away from the popping embers, toward the rug where I woke up in his arms.
He pulls back just long enough to look at me, his forehead pressed to mine, my arm still held roughly behind me.
“I’m giving you one more chance to run.” But as he says it, his arm around me is locked tight.
This is the moment when good girl Sage should come to her senses. Where I should remember that I came here to kill him, not let him treat me like a ragdoll. But I’m so tired of being good. So tired of being careful and controlled, and afraid.
I shake my head. “I’m done running.”
He looks at me through slitted eyes. “Then I’m going to devour you, little finch. I’m going to taste every inch of you. And you won’t be able to stop me.”
Every breath that comes out of me at those words is a suppressed shudder.
He yanks me higher so I’m on tiptoes, making the arm lock he has me in hurt a little.
The pain causes something hot to pulse in my core.
Then he lowers me onto the fur rug, and I surrender to its softness.
The blanket we were wrapped in earlier is still there, warm from our bodies, from the fire. He follows me down and looms over me.
A sliver of fear makes my breath hitch, and I start to scoot backward, but he grabs me, stopping my retreat.
“No, don’t. I won’t be able to stop myself if you run.”
Stop himself from doing what?
He drags me back underneath him, and his eyes bore into mine. There’s something darker in them now. But it makes my stomach tighten with anticipation. The fire casts shadows across his face, making him look even more sexy and dangerous.
“Fuck, you’re beautiful.”
My gaze darts away, my face hot all of a sudden.
“No. Look at me, little finch.”
I do.
“Good. I want you to remember every second of this.”
I couldn’t forget this if I tried; the way he’s staring at me so intently, the weight of him over me, the firelight dancing across his cheekbones, and the feeling of being completely seen, wanted.
This is what I’ve always wanted,
Needed.
Molten heat has pooled in my core, making my brain feel scatty and my body useless.
I’ve never wanted anyone as much as I want Troy Severin right now.
Before I can respond, he takes both my wrists in one hand and then pins them above my head.
The movement is smooth, but far from gentle, like he promised me it wouldn’t be.
Then his free hand slides down my side, slow and teasing, feeling every curve through thin fabric.
It makes me catch my breath.
When he reaches my hip, his thumb strokes bare skin where the shirt has ridden up. I shiver and press against him, eager for more.
“Not yet.”
He reaches for his belt on the chair.
Then flips me onto my front.
My pulse zips as he binds my wrists together behind my back with the thick leather. The fur of the rug cushions my cheek as I turn to look at him. I can’t move my arms or my body. He’s holding me down, not that I could move. My body is ready for him, like I’ve been waiting for this all my life.
He leans himself on top of me, his knees and one hand supporting his weight, the other tangling my hair together, and then grips it to pull my head gently back. Fear strikes again, making my body tense. It takes everything in me to relax and arch to him.
“Do you know what I want to do to you?” His breath blows hot against my ear.
I shake my head because I genuinely don’t know. I’ve never done this before. Never wanted anyone to touch me the way I’m desperate for him to touch me right now.
But I’m also afraid. Scared of what he will do, of how much I want it.
He kisses down my jaw to my neck, and I tilt my head back instinctively, giving him access. His lips find my pulse point, and I feel his teeth graze the sensitive skin there.
“Your pulse is racing,” he murmurs against my throat. “Is that from desire or fear of me?”
“Both.” The word comes out shakier than I intended. “But I don’t want you to stop.”
“Good. Because I’m not going to.”
He sucks hard on that spot, and I gasp at the sensation.
It’s part pleasure, part sharp intensity.
He’s marking me, claiming me for the world to see.
Oh God, it scares me how much I like it.
Then he kisses me again, from the side. But, there’s nothing gentle about this one.
His tongue demands entry, and I give it, opening for him, letting him consume me.
“Christ, I’ve been wanting to do this for a long time, have you bound and helpless beneath me,” he says, when he breaks for a breath, and then nips at my ear. “You’re mine now.”
I tremble, my stomach tightening. I think I hear him chuckle. But then he moves off me, as I feel the loss of his heat, especially when he rucks the shirt up, exposing me.