Page 18 of Exiled Mate

The word seems to unlock something in him. His arms lock around my back, and I feel his biceps flex as he crushes me to him.

When his lips find mine this time, it isn’t hesitant. He isn’t tentative.

He’s all-consuming.

I gasp as Rylan’s fingers run up my neck, moaning as he tugs on a fistful of hair. He tilts my head back, and I willingly lean back into his arms.

His kiss burns me. It has all the pain of a gallows’ kiss and all the heat of Rylan, and I’ll burn in it as long as I can. His kiss warms parts of me that I forgot existed.

It’s always been like this with Rylan. The chemistry between us is more than just present. It’s consuming.

I’m more than happy to be consumed as Rylan pushes me gently back onto the bed.

“Why do you have this here?” he growls.

“You don’t like it?”

“I don’t like that it seems to be here… with a purpose.”

Oh. Oh.

A wicked smile spreads across my lips. “Are you jealous, Rylan?”

“Of the fact that you might bring other males here? Yes,” he snarls.

I lean forward. Our time together is too short to bother with any of that. “There’s no one else, Ry. It’s you. It’s only been you. It’s always been you,” I whisper as I put my hand on his face.

Rylan’s electric eyes darken. “You can’t say that.”

“I can.”

“Terra…”

I lean forward, tugging off the comfortable sweater I had on. When I lean back, Rylan’s mouth is slightly open, and he’s staring at me slack-jawed.

When he looks at me like that…

I arch, offering my breasts up to him. “Please,” I say.

That’s all it takes.

Rylan descends on me. My bra is off in a heartbeat. My soft leggings and panties follow quickly. All the while, Rylan’s lips are tracing a fiery path over my skin, and his hands caress me with so much care, I feel…

Fragile. Like I’m made of porcelain or glass or something precious.

It makes my heart hurt.

His big hands slide up my legs, and his fingers arch inwards. When he caresses my center, I moan and part my legs.

I want more. I want everything, if I’m being honest.

“You’re so wet, Terra,” he whispers.

“For you. Always you,” I respond.

It doesn’t make sense. I’m just babbling things at this point.

But I don’t care.

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