Chapter 27 Starving for It
Starving for It
Jas
My cheeks are going to stay like this permanently because I’ve been smiling all day.
Mr. Toade’s grumpy attitude won’t bring me down either.
I’m so high on life right now. In addition to his usual coffee order, I gave him a free chocolate croissant—the exact one he’d been eyeing in the pastry case—and he graciously accepted.
He’s sitting in his booth, devouring every morsel with a smile while reading a book.
The rag twists in my hand in lazy strokes over the same area as I wipe the countertops.
My body still relishes the memory of my first orgasm in years—gifted to me by someone other than myself.
I can’t stop remembering his fingers inside of me, his kisses, his tongue drawing hot trails across my skin.
It’s a tease—a sign of what is to come because every nerve on fire will eventually be tamed, once he’s inside me. My body wants more. I want him.
It makes me anxious for the Spring Feast. To see everyone, especially him.
Looking up, my heart stammers in my chest. I never heard the bell. The cafe is empty, and Dominik is here.
“Hello, beautiful,” he says low and rough, with a sinful grin curving his lips. “You look excited to see me.”
He’s dressed as if he stepped out of a Transylvanian gothic painting, in chocolate-brown pants and a crisp white dress shirt with sleeves rolled to his elbows. His beard is well-manicured, and his hair half-up, half-down.
My legs move on their own after I toss the cloth on the counter. He guides me to the wall, presses me there, his solid body towers over me. He brushes a rogue curl from my face before caressing my cheek.
“I missed you,” he says against my ear.
I suck in a breath. “Did you?”
“Yes,” he answers, possessively.
“Good, I wanted to hear you say it.” My hand drifts to the first button of his shirt, and he leans in, capturing my mouth in a deep, passionate, urgent kiss. “I miss you too.”
He finally parts, and I press my forehead against his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart.
“Have you told anyone about this? About us?”
“No, I haven’t yet,” he says.
“I told the girls not to mention anything, but when I found out about the bond, I had to talk to them. I couldn’t keep this to myself. I needed them. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before.”
He cups my jaw, forcing me to look up at his eyes.
“Jas, who am I to take your support system away from you? Speaking it aloud was the first real step into this. That this—” he says, pointing his finger back and forth between us, “connection between us, we both feel it. I know it fucking sucks that we had to go through what we did and somehow end here. Moiraya aligned the stars with the power of the moon and destined us to be together. A once-in-a-lifetime blessing, and I want to see this through.”
The words he says are etched on my heart. I will never forget what has led us to be here. Now I’m falling in love all over again, and it terrifies me because I have everything to lose.
He nuzzles my ear, lips cursing my skin like a monster possessed by its master.
“Dom…” I moan, my hands tangling in his hair, pulling him closer. “We should—”
My words fail me when his mouth slams into mine, and there is nothing gentle about it. We're a mess of need and desperation, sucking on each other with hunger that feels primal and sacred all at once.
He finally breaks away, pressing one last kiss on my lips. We hover, chests heaving, and lips swollen. Our hearts are holding hands—dancing in glee under the rose-colored moonlight.
The line my heart drew for itself, promising that I wouldn’t cross it—it’s right there. But what do I do when I’m on the verge of wanting more? I need more. The kiss. The laundry room. This. It’s pushing me to a breaking point.
“I’ll see you tonight,” he says, stepping back, then quickly lunging forward for one more kiss that has me laughing as soon as we part. “Tonight,” he echoes, and I’m already counting down the seconds until I see him again.
“Tonight.”
I turn on my diffuser to start working on my hair. I still can’t decide whether to wear a dress or maybe a skirt.
I squirm, laughing out loud at Mellie, who is reaching for me. She’s standing on her hind legs, giving me a lick on my arm before letting out a low whine. Her two fluffy tails curl up slightly as she sits, waiting for me to stop doing what I’m doing to tend to her needs.
She’s gotta go.
I shut off my diffuser, jog to the patio door, letting her out. She’s either hungry, has to go, or both.
“Seren!” I shout, walking to her bedroom to see if she picked out her outfit.
She sits cross-legged on the floor, a tiny bag of chips sits beside her, and crumbs everywhere, but pure happiness as she plays with her dollhouse.
Last year, we added knights and dragons.
She turned her dollhouse into a castle. She’s obsessed with Nim.
And she said all dragons have a knight. Knights can be girls, too, because apparently, she wants to own a dragon someday. A much larger dragon, unlike Nim.
“So little lady,” I say, kneeling on her area rug. “What do you want to wear tonight to the feast—the big spring party?”
She thinks about it. Placing a knight figurine on his horse and sitting them beside a tree with an apple from her kitchen set.
I snort.
“I want to wear my gold dress.”
“Oh, good choice.” My finger taps against my lips before I reach out, taking her curls into my hands. “And this hair, this hair, what should we do with your hair?” I sing-song.
“Can you braid it, like Elora’s?” Her eyes widened, pleading with me to say yes. “I love how pretty her hair is!”
“Definitely.” Because it was Elora who taught me. I’m ready for this celebration of spring—of new beginnings.