49. Summer
Chapter Forty-Nine
Summer
I watch him, my hands braced on either side of me on the bed.
His bed. The sheets are so silky soft and obviously expensive.
He brought me to his house, to his bedroom.
This is dangerous ground. My fingers tingle in anticipation of feeling his skin.
I want to trace the ragged edges of the paler scars and know the stories behind them.
I ache to learn the power that I know will hum within his runes as I study the complexity of them.
He keeps his arm out, waiting. He’s holding his breath. This must be killing him, the waiting. I wonder how the anticipation feels to him, whether his skin is tingling too.
I’ve felt him before, in Hell, but this is so much more intimate.
I’m feeling more alive again. After throwing the well of my power at the fog, I never thought I’d feel this way, especially this quickly, but it’s not only my power that is lazily coiling inside me.
There is another force twining with mine.
It is foreign, dark, delicious, and all him.
But why would he give me some of his power? How close to the brink was I?
Slowly I lift my hand, reaching out to him, and his gaze locks on me. He’s as still as a statue, probably trying not to spook me. The need to feel him is overwhelming. The gravity of the situation, being in his bed, the intimacy of this moment has panic setting in.
“Alice and Rafe will be worried,” I say, drawing my hand away.
He grabs my wrist, making my breath catch in my throat.
He places my fingers against his arm, and he is so warm, his skin so soft.
His muscles ripple beneath my fingers, and when I look up at him, I regret it immediately.
His eyes are closed, his lips parted, and the sight has desire bubbling through my veins.
I brush my thumb along the skin of his forearm, brushing against the edge of a rune.
My eyes are glued to his face, unable to look away, and when he pulls his bottom lip between his teeth, liquid heat floods my core.
This is not him. This is not his face. It might not even be his body, but then why does the glamour seem so thin against his arm? I can’t detect any magic beneath my fingers.
I watch him as his eyes open, and he stares at me for a moment before looking down at my thumb, absentmindedly sliding over his skin.
He groans, and the sound almost completely undoes me.
I force myself to look away from his lips, but looking down at his arm is just as bad.
They’re so big and strong, and I remember being wrapped in them not even an hour ago.
I was unconscious, but I felt him holding me.
Curling my fingers, I slowly dig my nails into his arm. His skin puckers under the pressure, leaving small crescent shapes, and I like the idea of that.
He moans again, and this time it’s even deeper. My eyes fly to his, to see that the black of his pupils has completely swallowed the dark irises. My breath hitches, and my body responds with a deep, aching need.
“Princess,” he growls, and I shiver at the sound, the pet name, the way he’s watching my cheeks heat.
He slowly drags his tongue along his bottom lip, wetting it and leaving the most fucking irresistible shine.
“Princess?.?.?.” he repeats, his whisper husky and soaked with hunger. “The way you’re looking at me.”
The butterflies in my stomach are going wild. My core pulses, and I shift restlessly. The damp lace of my panties rubs against the sensitive, swollen flesh between my legs, winding my need tighter with every beat of my heart.
He leans in, his breath mingling with mine. “It makes me think dangerous things,” he says, his words imbued with such filthy promises that I have to hold back my own moan.
“Dangerous?” I ask, my voice barely a whisper and thick with desire.
“Very?.?.?.” He glances at my lips, and they tingle under his gaze.
“Why?” My words are barely audible, my breaths so shallow.
His gaze slips down, focusing on my neck. “Because?.?.?.” He lightly brushes his thumb over my fluttering pulse before collaring me with his large hand. His long fingers have no problem wrapping around my throat, and I lift my chin a little, swallowing thickly against his palm .
The stranger squeezes, the light grip limiting my airway. “Your heart is racing.”
I don’t move. I should be afraid, but fear is the furthest thing from my mind.
He squeezes a little more, and I can’t help the moan that tumbles out of me.
He moves, pinning me to the bed to loom over me.
His hard body is pressed against me, but I know he is only giving me a fraction of his weight.
His biceps bulge on the arm he has propped beside my head.
I pant, trying to take in as much air as I can, but my pussy throbs desperately, greedy for release from this ache.
His eyes flicker, and while they do not betray their true color, they do reveal the danger that is inside him.
I can feel the deadly creature that he just barely keeps contained, staring down at me.
The one I provoke at every opportunity. I do not fear him or his beast. As reluctant as I am to admit it even to myself, I want them both. I want all of him.
“Stranger?.?.?.” I whisper. My voice is barely recognizable, husky and lust-filled.
He moves in, his lips just above mine, and then he ducks his head and presses a kiss to my jaw.
Pressing on my chin with his thumb, he lifts it, exposing my neck so he can slide his mouth over my hammering pulse.
My whole body quivers. Hopefully, he thinks it is fear or anger.
Hopefully, he doesn’t see through the lie of it.
He lifts my chin a little more and takes a deep inhale, moaning deep in his chest. “You poison me.” I barely move, barely breathe. “My thoughts. My dreams. My soul. Poisoned with you .”
I swallow again. “Stranger?—”
“Where else will you seep into? Which other part of me will you take for your own?”
I turn my head a little, my cheek brushing against his. He groans and nips at my throat. “Have you been thinking about it?” He inhales again. “The time we spent in Hell?” he asks against my skin. He shifts a little, his cock pressing against my core, only our clothes separating us.
I moan softly.
“When I sank my teeth into you,” he growls, nipping my neck again. It’s a mockery of the bite he gave me in Hell, but my body remembers and reacts.
“Stranger?.?.?.” I pant, though I have no idea what to say or what to do.
“Yes, princess?” he asks, using my new nickname .
“I—”
He moans and opens his mouth wide. I brace for the pain of his bite, but then he lays his lips against my neck and sucks hard.
My eyes roll in pleasure, and my back arches, pressing my breasts against his chest. The pain sends a direct jolt of pleasure to my core.
My moan is so loud that it pulls me from whatever spell he has me under.
My moan morphs into a cry as I shove him off me and clamber from the bed.
I stumble a little, still weak from whatever the fuck happened in the forest.
The stranger snarls, kneeling on the bed. His eyes are solid black and focused sharply on me. They are the eyes of a predator, and I am his prey. The willing, stupid, horny prey.
“I want to go home. Now,” I say, happy with how strong my voice is. I need to leave. He has me in his house, and I have no idea where that is. It might even be in another fucking realm.
He lunges for me and slams me against the wall, his body pinning me in place. He rocks against me, fitting his hips between my thighs so I can feel every hard inch of him against my aching core. “You mean you want to run?” he growls, staring down at me.
This was stupid. I am stupid. He is dangerous. I don’t even know who he is.
“I want to leave.”
“Run,” he snarls. “Might as well tell me the truth, even if you refuse to believe it.”
“You don’t know me,” I growl back, hating that he’s throwing words at me that resonate.
He scoffs. “Lies, lies, and more lies. Doesn’t it exhaust you?”
I growl, “If I’m such a liar, I’m surprised you want to be around me. Unless you are also a liar.”
“My lies are for everyone else. All my truths are yours and yours alone.” He stares at me, and there is not a hint of trickery or deception in his expression. Damn him! Why is he doing this to me?
I look away, the truth sitting too heavy between us. “I want to leave.”
He stares at me for a moment, and then the portal opens at my back. If he weren’t holding me, I’d have fallen back through it. He holds me securely against him and walks me back until I hit my bed. He stands between my legs, looking down at me.
I stare at him, and he reaches out, stroking my cheek with the back of his fingers. “Be more careful next time, princess,” he says, his voice gentle and filled with care.
I glare at him, but he just bends and presses a soft kiss to my fluttering pulse, and then he is gone.