Chapter 37 #2
A muscle tightened in his jaw. He stood and went to his desk, rummaging around in a drawer until he pulled out a bottle of sweetstalk nectar and opened it, taking a gulp.
The lack of memories from last night was enough of a deterrent against the immediate impulse to snatch the bottle and take a swig myself.
A desperate craving to numb myself with the nectar still simmered under the surface.
“I’m looking for my parents,” he said.
I frowned. “Weren’t they aboard the lost Arc?”
“They were.”
“And…you think they’re still out there somewhere? Alive?”
Food and water rations aboard an Arc could only last for a few weeks. Even with rainwater supplementing their water rations, the creatures that lived in the miasma weren’t edible. The lost Arc had been missing for ten years.
“I don’t know.” He took a deep pull from the bottle, taking it with him as he moved toward the window. Watching his lip’s motion, my brain took a detour to Zevrial’s kiss and my temperature spiked. “It’s been a long time. I hope they’re alive. But I need to know what happened to them, either way.”
Up against the miasma’s faint backlit glow, oil lamp light hugged him like a lover.
Sympathy washed over me. He was clinging to a burning hope even as it blistered him. Dampening it with my own skepticism and doubt was unthinkable. Following him to the window, I put a comforting hand on his arm.
Even exposed and vulnerable, he still looked so unbearably strong.
I tasted the aroma of petrichor wafting off him.
Breathing deep, I let his scent envelope me.
He caught my hand, interlacing his fingers with mine with his eyelids lowered as he set the bottle down.
His dark irises were nearly lost within his pupils.
“What, no commentary?” His smile was self-deprecating. “No remark on how foolish I am for believing they could be alive?” He slid his free hand to my cheek, knuckles brushing my skin. I leaned into his touch.
My eyes locked with his. “Hope is never stupid.”
His lips crashed into mine with the ferocity of a storm. Desire drowned me at the taste of him. Stubble scraped against my lips as our tongues collided.
He tasted like stormy sin and heavenly heat all in one.
Threading my hands through his hair, I gripped him tightly to me. Pulling him closer, trying to kiss him deeper. I wanted more.
His hands slid down, kneading the back of my thighs. A moan broke past our lips as he leaned closer, tilting me backwards.
For a thrilling moment, I thought he was pushing me down to take me on the floor. Instead, he hefted me up with his arms. Wrapping my legs around his middle, I braced myself with my hands around his neck.
Throughout, he never stopped kissing me.
He carried me to the bed, tipping me until I landed on my back. I gasped for air, feverish with need as our lips broke apart. Staring up at him, I traced his jawline with my fingertip. My blood sizzled under my skin.
“Only if it’s still a yes,” he breathed, pulling away.
There was a forbidden threshold ahead, and I was racing across it. After this, there would be no denying the smoldering attraction between us.
He’d be insufferable. And I wanted every insufferable minute with him.
Arching up toward him, I wrapped my arms back around his neck. I pulled him so close our lips were touching as I whispered one word against his.
“Yes.”
His tongue plunged into my mouth, exploring me. Both his hands were making short work of my clothes, unfastening laces and stroking at exposed skin as he undid them. Undid me.
His decadent weight ground against me where our centers met. I moaned into his mouth. His knees fenced me in at the thighs, and I’d never enjoyed feeling trapped more. This was a cage of my choosing. And I chose this. I chose him.
Shivering heat chased its way down my arms. Tugging at his clothes, agitation grew when they didn’t collapse off him. Biting his lower lip, I molded myself against him, frantic with my need to feel more of him.
Finally, finally, his shirt came loose, and I slid it back off his shoulders.
My fingertips and gaze caressed his chest, lingering on the Skinscript above his heart.
The jagged and coarse scars that latticed across his chest. I broke away from his mouth, painting kisses down his neck and torso.
Tasting him with my tongue. Irresistible.
He groaned, head falling back. At some point, he’d freed me of my shirt and pants, and his hands had begun a slow journey of my body. One calloused thumb circled my breast while the other hand drifted lower.
Reaching down, I tugged his pants off. Anticipation and desire flared. He wasn’t wearing any underwear.
I slid one hand down his considerable hardened length, grinning as he moaned. Wrapping my hand tight, I squeezed him, pleased when he groaned again.
He hooked his thumbs into the side of my panties, tearing them off me. I moved my hand up and down his length, experimenting. He hardened beneath my touch.
Before I could continue, he reached down and began to press firm circles over my hypersensitive clitorus with his thumb. I bucked against his hand, straining and moaning at the ravaging pleasure that shot to my core. Leaning down, he fastened his lips around my nipple, sucking.
Lust and heat bathed me.
I shuddered, overwhelmed by sensation. “Please, please…”
Frenzied for anything to hang onto, my hands fisted on his shoulders, squeezing into his flesh.
“Shh,” he flicked his tongue over my nipple, blowing on the wet heat he’d planted there. His thumb was pressing in deeper, tighter circles. His index finger moved further down, slipping into me.
I spasmed, pleasure sweetening as I tightened around his ministrations.
Rocking against his hand, I tried to focus, sweat beading down my forehead.
My heartbeat was galloping, toes curling as I fought to hang on.
To him. To restraint. He held me on the cusp, pleasure sweet and warm tightening in me.
Deft fingers played me like an instrument. “I can’t–”
Bliss swept over me in a euphoric rush as I fractured against him. I lost myself to feeling, the world turning fuzzy and wonderful.
Zevrial smiled at me, gently removing his hand. “Stunning,” he said. Shifting, he positioned himself above me, pressing another kiss to my lips.
He drove into me, so hot and full I thought I’d burst. It was so sudden I cried out.
Pulling back, we picked up a rhythm against each other.
Slow at first, but soon the tempo accelerated.
He slammed into me, fit me so perfectly I knew I wouldn’t last. Moaning, I wrapped my arms around him, pulling him closer. Tighter.
He groaned, sucking on the pulse pounding in my neck.
“More,” I demanded, pushing my hips up toward his as he thrust. The pace was punishing, every pound of his body against mine hitting just the right spot.
Pleasure wound around me, rising higher and higher. Need burned blinding bright. I dug my nails into his back, incoherent with the feeling of an impending orgasm cresting.
For precious seconds, I was floating and falling at once.
Relaxation spread through every fiber of me.
Nothing mattered but this moment, this feeling here with him.
Trembling, I fell as he shuddered above me, reaching his own release.
He angled himself down sideways as he collapsed, sliding out of me.
I lay there, dazed and drifting, staring at his handsome features.
Maybe our mutual Skinscript was good for something after all.
“I don’t care what this is,” Zevrial caressed the glyph on my chest above my heart, as if reading my thoughts. His smooth voice was roughened from sex, it sounded darker. Like bitter chocolate and midnight dreams. I liked it. “I’m glad for it.”
I gave him a lazy, satisfied smile. “Because it lets you feel what I feel when I orgasm?”
“Because you’d still be trying to run away if it hadn’t bound us together.”
I punched his arm. He grinned. “Because it tells me you feel the same about me as I do about you.”
“That’s cheating,” I grumbled. “You can’t be all sexy and perfect, and then romantic to get me to admit to feeling something for you first.”
His smile was roguish. “You don’t have to. Because I already know.” He traced the glyph on my chest. I swatted at his hand as he laughed.
“You’re mistaking afterglow for more,” I teased. But I had felt it too, the enticing warmth of something more mixed in with the passion. And it hadn’t just originated from me.
We laid together, tracing invisible soothing patterns on one another’s skin. I skimmed my fingertips over a particularly vicious looking scar on his abdomen.
His smile faded. “Were you ever going to tell me you were betrothed?”
Just like that, the afterglow dimmed. “That’s what you want to talk about right now?”
“Okay. What happened during the final exam? Your fear was so intense I thought you were dying.” He brushed a hand through my sweaty hair, pushing it back from my face.
I grimaced. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Too bad,” He propped himself up on his elbows. “Because I deserve some explanations. You don’t want to talk about your wedding, fine. But I just about lost my mind trying to find you in that thunderstorm during the final.”
He’d looked for me? “It’s complicated.”
“I'll wait.”
I sighed. He would wait. Putting up with me took impressively immense patience. He'd wait until I cracked. Days, weeks, even. He might drop it eventually. Eventually was a long time to keep dodging him and holding out.
“Nikolach tried to kill me. Nearly did.”
His eyes narrowed, voice lowering. “Who’s Nikolach?”
I sat up and began to collect my discarded clothes off the floor. Even willing to spill some truth, this wasn’t a conversation I wanted to have. “He’s someone I knew from the Reformatory.”
Zevrial tugged me back into the bed, even as I pulled my shirt back on. “And who is he?”
“Is that jealousy I hear?”
He grabbed and rolled me until I was pinned underneath him. “Who is he, Lisia?”