Page 61 of A Sin So Pure

Her hands bracket both of my cheeks.

“Have you not already let me in?”

“Not completely.”

Her sigh brushes over my lips, a soft and warm spring breeze.

“Do you want to be with me?” she asks.

My brows furrow. “What kind of question is that?”

“An important one, to me.”

Her lashes flutter, her gaze settling on my chest, as if staring right through to my heart.

“Yes,” I say.

I think that’s what this yearning in my gut means.

“Then don’t hold back,” she says. Her smile is soft, a mere wisp of a cloud spread across the bright sun.

I huff. “That simple?”

She leans forward, giving me a quick peck on the tip of my nose.

“That simple.”

My tongue swipes over my lips, licking up the remnants of her past kisses. I search her face like it’s a map that holds the answers to the universe. In turn, her eyes darken to the deepest amber.

“I waited a long time to hear that from you, you know,” she adds.

“I don’t know if I can give you more than this—or what we had before. But I find myself wanting to try,” I say.

Her lips purse, as if pondering how my words taste. Then she nods.

“As long as you’re trying, I’ll have patience,” she says. “I really like you, Nora.”

I smirk. “Yeah?”

I push on her waist, walking us backwards, until Imogen is pressed against the mounted swords on the wall. She sucks in a short gasp. Her hands fall to my waist, gripping at my blouse when I lean into her neck again, nipping at it, unable to help myself. She has such a pretty neck, a blank piece of paper that I want to ruin with black and blue ink, the pen my teeth and tongue.

“I’m starting to wonder if you’re a vampire, not fae,” Imogen laughs.

“Funny,” I say, admiring the mark that now blooms on her skin where my teeth nibbled. I pull away, fisting her hair. Her head tilts back. “You told me that if I need help, all I need to do is ask. Take this as me asking.”

I’m not the type to spill my heart; I could go blue forcing every word past the lump in my throat. Or I could open up to her likethis.

Bodies have a language of their own.

“Stay,” I whisper the word into the shell of her ear.

“What?”

“Stay with me tonight. Here.”

Imogen’s breath hitches in her throat and then she’s crashing her lips to mine with a fury.

I’ve tasted nothing sweeter.

---