Page 95 of When Hearts Ignite

My heels click on the cement floor of the parking structure in an erratic rhythm as I try my best to catch up to his long strides in my maroon pencil skirt, which restricts my movement.

“Steven?” I ask breathlessly as he swings open the passenger door of his sedan and pushes me inside.

He glances down at me, a vein in his forehead throbbing, his eyes darkening with intensity as they dart to my lips, and he swallows. His jaw clenches and he reaches over, gifting me with his comforting scent of leather and ocean, and buckles me in before slamming the door shut and striding to the driver’s side without a single word spoken.

Steven starts the car, his gaze lasered to the path before him, and he speeds out of the structure and turns onto the streets. The streetlights blur in golden streaks through the windows, the car humming quietly as he takes me to an unknown destination.

The ride is silent; the air is filled with urgency. His jaw twitches and his hands are white-knuckled on the steering wheel. My pulse riots inside me as I sit next to him, knowing he’s hanging on by the thinnest thread.

Twenty minutes later, most likely made faster because of all the shortcuts and what I’m sure is above the speed limit driving, Steven stops in front of a sleek high-rise made from cement and glass. He tosses the keys to an attendant and runs to my side to open the door.

“Come.” His voice is deep and terse. A command.

He grabs my hand and hauls me out of the car before taking me to an elevator and pressing the button to the penthouse.

The elevator ride is also quiet, fraught with tension, the calm before the storm. I see his eyes flashing every time he glances at me before looking away. His large hands are fisted at his sides, and my heart races at the intensity I see on his face.

I move closer, wanting to touch him, to smooth my hand down the bunched muscles on his back, to tell him everything is okay, just like my impulse when he stood up on the stage at Lunasia, with his tall frame radiating loneliness. But this time, I can actually touch him, to feel him, to share his burdens.

He flinches as I caress his shoulders. He swallows before inhaling a deep breath and letting it out, the sound loud in the quiet elevator. My forehead furrows at the agony on his face, the way his brows are pinched, his amber eyes darkening to a deep brown. His nostrils flare when the elevator doors open and he links his fingers with mine and drags me toward the only door in the lobby.

Placing his hand on the sensor, he waits for a beep before opening the door and pushing me inside. Dim lights automatically flicker on.

My eyes widen at the tall ceilings, the white marble foyer leading to a spacious living room with floor-to-ceiling windows, pristine leather furniture, a modern glass coffee table, and tasteful art decorating the walls. This must be his actual apartment outside of The Orchid. My mouth parts at the skyline beyond the glass panes, the glittering skyscrapers rising above the darkened expanse of Central Park stretching far and wide.

I turn around, finding Steven staring at me. “Steven? Where—”

He curls his hands around my face and smashes his lips against mine, swallowing the rest of my sentence in a deep, drugging kiss. His lips and hands work in tandem as he hoists me up, his palms gripping my ass cheeks. At the resistance of the pencil skirt, he growls in disapproval before tearing it off my legs. I hear the seam ripping from his roughness.

“My skirt,” I pant out between kisses.

“I’ll buy you another one. I’ll fill up your closet with everything you want so I can rip them off you piece by piece.”

His palms return to my ass as he pins me against the door, my legs wrapping around his waist. His lips trail to my throat as his teeth scrape the tender column, sending sharp currents of pleasure straight to my nipples, beading them instantly. My core clenches as he unleashes his tongue. Licking, swiping down my pulse points, my clavicle, before burying his face in the cleavage revealed by my blouse.

“I can’t get enough of you, Grace. When I heard what they said to you, how they made you cry, I went crazy. When she hit you, I’ve never wanted to commit a crime more than that moment,” he rasps against my flesh.

His body weight keeps me pinned to the wall as he rips off the blouse with his hands, sending the buttons flying. “I’m mad for you and I want to burn the world for you. You unlock every emotion inside me and every moment we spend apart is torture.”

He groans at the sight of my heaving breasts, clad in a black lace bra, a small present I gifted myself when I got my internship at Pietra. “Your tits are mine. Your pussy is mine.”

He looks up, his fevered eyes flaring and snagging on me, rendering me breathless with anticipation. “You. Are. Mine.”

The possessiveness in his voice is like a caress down my body, and my pussy floods with moisture. I curl my legs tighter around his waist and rub against the thick hardness saluting me from the confines of his pants.

“I don’t care if anyone knows. Heck, I want the world to know that I, Steven Kingsley, am madly, insanely, over-the-top crazy about you.” His lips ensnare mine in another passionate kiss, his tongue spearing inside my mouth like he owns it, like he owns every part of me.

I melt against him as he suddenly moves, carrying me past large spaces and rooms I have no interest in seeing right now. He walks up a flight of stairs and pushes open a door, his mouth never leaving mine, his teeth tugging my bottom lip, biting before smoothing the pain with a heated lick of tongue. He samples, tastes, and conquers, leaving me in a haze of delirious pleasure.

He drops me onto a soft carpet, my blouse lying tattered at my feet, my bra somehow unhooked and discarded, and he gets up, like an avenging god from Greek mythology. My eyes widen as I finally take in our surroundings.

We’re in a solarium. The ceiling and walls are all made of glass. The stars glimmer brightly in the nighttime skies as the city sparkles around us. It’s as if I’m floating in the middle of space, surrounded by glowing balls of fire and the mysteries of the universe.

My eyes shift back to his, finding his pupils blown, the inky darkness swallowing the irises like a high tide. He quickly sheds his clothes, revealing swaths of smooth skin and rippling muscles. His cock is long and thick, saluting me as soon as he crouches on top of me.

“I’ve always wanted to take you here. This is my favorite room in the apartment. This is the closest I can take you to the stars, the fissures of the cosmos, so the gods can see us and witness how I feel about you,” he whispers as he cradles his face with my hands, his breath ghosting my lips.

He gives me a lingering kiss. “I don’t know what you wished for that night at the High Line, but I can tell you this. You are my wish, and I don’t need to wish for anything more. You saved me and healed me.”

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