Chapter 29 #2
“I think the closer you come, the more I’m aware.” Even though I knew he meant the magic between us, I physically stepped closer. Our fronts were flush with one another, our hands still wrapped together and pressed against my chest. His smile broadened.
This time, when I found the something in the middle, I identified it. “There is a knot between us. This must be what Lord Arctos saw at the tavern.”
Ambrose leaned forward. Even though there was no one around to overhear us, he spoke into the shell of my ear like it was a secret just for me. “Even before the blood magic, my fire burned for you at every opportunity.”
I sucked in a breath, unsure of what to do with the confession.
My magic acted up around him as well, but I’d chalked it up to my uncontrollable shift.
When I pushed away the haze of his words, I continued.
“I think I need to…” Burn it? Break it? Untie it?
I wasn’t sure. My fire wasn’t burning the rope as it searched it. How could I change that?
“We’ll have to sever it, but I’m assuming your fire isn’t burning?” he asked, reading my mind.
“Correct.”
“It’s a level of control I’m not sure you have yet over your fire.”
He stated it so matter-of-factly, so bluntly, that I couldn’t even be angry.
“You have to think about the fire like you would a muscle you exercise. You can flex it to burn or not to burn.”
“Can you feel the connection? It might be faster if you found it and tried.”
He seemed cautious, so I moved our hands to his chest, knowing the closeness helped me feel it. His shirt was buttoned, though, leaving no room for me to ensure our clasped hands touched skin. Without much thought, I undid the buttons at the top.
“Evelyn…” His voice was more growl, now, than I was used to. It halted me in my tracks, even though I was two buttons deep and moving toward the third, my fingers stealthily exploring him as they moved.
We were still flush against each other, and it occurred to me that something hard pressed against my stomach. It hadn’t been there before.
“Evelyn,” he said again. I looked up at him through long lashes. Gods, he was beautiful. “My focus is elsewhere.”
He didn’t meet my eyes, like maybe he feared he’d let me down.
“We know what to try next. We shouldn’t do it when you’re distracted. It’s an acceptable outcome for tonight.” I rose on the tips of my toes again to bring my lips to his.
That was all the encouragement he needed.
His hands were beneath my thighs, and he lifted me to him.
My legs wrapped around his torso again with no hesitation.
His kiss wasn’t soft and exploratory like last night.
This was Ambrose Yarrow at his most demanding.
His lips quested with singular focus. Mine parted, wanting him closer—wanting him to achieve all his goals.
A moan slipped from me as his tongue advanced, and I rocked against him.
“Evelyn,” he hissed again. But he didn’t appear to have anything else to say. The strength of his arms held me in place, and his tongue slid against mine with unyielding strokes. I met each one with a challenge, leaving us both breathless and smiling.
He kissed behind my ear—sucked and licked his way to the center of my chest, where our hands were intertwined. All the while, he walked us backward toward the bed.
Fear flooded me. Fear that once he laid me down on the mattress, like he had yesterday, all this would end. Wanting Ambrose terrified me. Even when I knew he wanted me, too. Wanting Ambrose would surely lead to disappointment.
But why focus on the future when this—now—felt so right? The part of me that didn’t want him to stop overtook the fear of the future. When his steps paused, I clung tighter and pulled his mouth back to mine to make my intent clear.
With a huff, we fell to the bed. His chin was on my chest as he looked up at me, his gaze half-lidded. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to stop unless you tell me to.”
How had I ever thought him dismissive and uncaring? He was so observant, so in tune with my thoughts. It was a heady thing to be the focus of this particular researcher’s attention.
“I think we should continue.”
He chuckled, but there was an exhale in it, a release of tension, like maybe he needed to hear that.
“The way you take notes should be studied,” I said on a gasp.
His hand ran the length of me, and his mouth moved to my breast. I arched into him as he lapped at me through my shirt.
My curse only meant he noted my response and increased the pressure.
Then he latched his teeth around my peaked nipple beneath the shirt.
“Your attention to detail is exquisite.”
“With the right subject, I can be very motivated,” he said, moving to the other breast.
I kept going. He’d said so much earlier, so much I had yet to respond to.
I wanted him to know that I studied him, too.
“I love that you can’t help but share your ideas with me.
Like they’re just sitting there, ready to burst from your brain, but you won’t discuss them with others.
No, you wait until we have a confrontation, then let them casually slip out. ”
He lifted momentarily to peel my shirt away. “Noticed that, did you? It’s not worth discussing with others. No one else will find the one piece I’m missing like you will. Call it expediency.”
His mouth met mine again in a low groan, and his hand roamed my skin when he laid us back down. This exploration was detailed and all-encompassing. He mapped my curves like he’d have to sketch them later, and he’d fail the test if he forgot a single one.
“Nothing about this feels expedient,” I mumbled, mostly to myself as he buried his nose in my neck.
“No … you are the one sentence in the book that makes it all make sense. The one that perfectly proves a theory and neatly ties up all the loose threads but I had to read a thousand pages to find.”
I sucked in a breath while his fingers slid down my side, peeling back my leggings. My body was alight with the heat of our connection, of every flick of his tongue and every inch his hand quested toward my center. But I knew it was his words that ignited the flame deep within me.
“I’d read a thousand more if that’s what it took to find you.”
It was no hardship for him, of course. He loved what he did. But it stole my breath to realize he considered me with the same tender dedication.
I interrupted him then, and brought his lips back to mine.
I needed to pour a little of what I felt, a little of what I still tried to communicate, back into him.
If wanting things was standing on the very edge of a cliff, verbalizing my wants was jumping off and hoping I wouldn’t splatter.
Speaking my desire was the scariest part.
It isn’t so scary with him.
Then his fingers circled my center, teasing, building, stoking, but depriving me of the friction I desperately craved.
“I’ve been dreaming about this for weeks,” he confessed.
I swallowed. The words wouldn’t come. Still, I offered him something real, something true.
“You are the most stubborn, most attractive, most intelligent male I’ve ever met, and sometimes when I find you in the stacks, I just want to shove you against them and work out our differences with my tongue. ”
His fingers moved only inches, but it was precisely what I needed. My back bowed again as desire flooded me.
“You seem to enjoy my reward system.” He kissed me hard as his thumb circled my clit, and his middle finger slipped into my heat.
“It’s acceptable, but we should really…” He paused his plunges to curl his finger and a moan escaped my lips. I grasped for reason to finish my thought. “Continue testing.”
“Oh, we will.” His reassurance warmed me to the center of my being.
And then he returned to his task with the tenacity that made him the library’s golden boy, even if only in my head.
His mouth was everywhere, while his hand maintained a steady rhythm.
He wouldn’t be rushed. Every movement wound me tighter, and every slight tilt of his head was an acknowledgement of a discovery—of something that brought me closer to my edge.
I ran my hands across his broad shoulders. Having studied them from afar for weeks, I took advantage of the opportunity to explore unhindered.
Fire burned within me while his mouth traversed my body. I bit down on his shoulder, needing the grounding as he drove me to new heights. It would leave a mark, but he didn’t seem to mind. I traced my tongue over the space to cool the sting, and he continued, frustratingly steady in his work.
“It was the wildness I didn’t understand at first, but I think my wolf did. I considered it reckless, but it’s not. It’s a desire to know more, to understand more, to fight for change, no matter what box this continent tries to fit you into.”
My back didn’t feel like it could bow any farther. My hands dropped to the sheets, clawing in search of something, anything, for purchase.
“You remind me why I loved our field to begin with. And I’d be honored to stoke that wildness, to explore this continent, to push its limits, so long as it’s with you.”
I shattered against his hand, but he didn’t stop. Fire consumed me, and flames burned through my veins, leaving me a pile of ashes. All the while, Ambrose was there—working me through my pleasure.
He pressed a lingering kiss to my lips, and when he tried to pull away, I cupped my hands against his cheeks to hold him in place.
I’d never felt so seen, so exposed. Distantly, I knew his words were nonsensical.
We were still competing for … something.
We wouldn’t even work together for much longer.
I desperately wanted everything he offered, but giving voice to a desire so fleeting, so unattainable, would only cause heartbreak. Even knowing it would leave a mark, I could enjoy this while it lasted and attempt to protect myself from our inevitable separation.
When I met his gaze, it held only warmth, no disappointment at my lack of words.
My hands slid to his shoulders, and I realized he was still clothed.
My fingers found the remaining buttons, freeing him from his white shirt and tossing it on the floor.
Then I rolled us over, positioning myself on top of him to undo his trousers, removing the last vestiges between us.
He reached up to caress the side of my face, and I leaned into it. My veil cat purred, and from the smile that curled his lip, I knew he heard it.
“Show me what you like,” he said as his hands rested at my hips. I straddled him, positioning him at my entrance. I’d never taken control like this before in the bedroom. But Ambrose wanted to see where I’d lead, and I knew he’d follow with studious attention.
I closed my eyes and sank down. Inch by delicious inch, he filled me, my body stretching to accommodate his very welcome intrusion. My hands rested on his pectorals, his body my stabilizing force as I found the perfect angle and rhythm.
His fingers tightened around my waist, steadying me. “That’s it. You know what you want.”
I marveled at his words. How he once again knew precisely what I needed to hear. There was no hesitation now, no consideration of what the words would cost me in the future. They slipped out for him, the same way my desire to be Vesten historian had days ago: “I want you, Ambrose.”
Some restraint in him snapped. I squeaked as he flipped us over. His movements echoed where I’d led, what I’d shown him, but as he took over, his thrusts were faster, harder, deeper. He drew forth the flame that only moments ago had consumed me.
Our breaths quickened together—my heartbeat raced, and fire burned in my chest. I glanced up to see his hazel eyes flash gold. Knowing that this satisfied all parts of him only pushed me faster to my edge.
I came with his name on my lips, and he followed.
He tried to roll away so as not to settle his weight atop me, but I wrapped my legs around him so he couldn’t get away.
I didn’t know how long we lay there, but every moment we did, I felt cherished.
My veil cat agreed. The image of her curled up in my mind like the most contented animal on the continent was the last thing I saw before drifting off to sleep.