Page 120 of A Sun Scorched Bloom

Gray’s eyes narrowed knowingly. "Is that it? Did something happen with Janelle?"

Erik’s nostrils flared as he took a deep breath. "I guess you can say that. It was a long time ago. But she told me about something that happened to her, spineless men who hurt her, and now all I can think about is killing the bastards who did it."

Shadows escaped from Gray’s fingers. "Thatis something I can understand. Is she okay?" he asked, frown lines bracketing his mouth.

"She will be." Erik forced his shoulders to relax, wiping the sweat from his neck. "Let’s get back to training."

"No. Go be with her." Gray threw Erik a towel. "We might not survive this war, Erik. You’re ready to fight. Make sure you’re not so focused on the danger to come that you forget to live your life now." Gray strapped his sword on his back and walked away, giving Erik no time to argue.

Not that he would have. The moment Gray disappeared through the training room door, Erik stalked toward his room with determined steps. His friend was right. If they only had days or weeks left, Erik wanted to spend every one of them making Janelle feel loved.

Janelle wanted the physical? He would give it to her. But dammit if he wasn’t going to show her the emotion behind it as well. Still sweaty and shirtless from training, Erik threw open the door, praying Janelle was inside.

The crack of the door against the wall rang through the room, and Janelle jumped, spinning around from where she stood flipping through one of the few books he kept on the bookcase carved from the stone of the cavern wall.

Erik’s chest heaved as he drank her in, her curvy legs peeking out from one of his white shirts.

"You’re back early," Janelle said breathlessly, her eyes trailing across his bare chest.

"I am." He began to take slow, decisive steps toward her.

"Is everything okay?" she asked, glancing behind him toward the door.

Erik grinned, closing the distance between them and pressing his body against hers, pinning her to the wall as his hand wrapped around the side of her waist, pulling her hips against him. "It will be, once I taste you and you’re panting my name. I’ve always wondered if you’d taste like berries."

Janelle’s jaw cracked open, her eyes widening as she sucked in a breath. "You have?" Janelle said breathlessly before averting her eyes. "Don’t you have important second-in-command things to do?" She squirmed, but Erik grabbed her chin between his fingers, forcing her to meet his eyes.

"Nothingis more important than showing you how much I love you. Don’t pull away because this is real."

Janelle’s bottom lip trembled, and Erik rubbed his thumb across it. Her hand absently drifted to the scar on her hip, but Erik grabbed her wrist in his other hand.

"No one will ever hurt you again, and certainly not me." His words were harsh, his eyes never leaving Janelle’s as he placed her palm against his chest and lowered his own to trail the raised skin crisscrossing her hip.

"I should have been with you every night. I could have prevented what happened to you." Erik leaned his forehead against hers. "I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you then. But I swear to you, you’re safe now."

Janelle closed her eyes, a single tear sliding down her cheek.

"Let me love you, Janelle," Erik pleaded, fire crackling along his skin.

Janelle tilted her head back, her lips hovering so close to Erik’s that her breath twisted with his. "Only if you let me love you, too."

The words barely left her lips before Erik crushed his against them, swallowing her confession as if he needed to know if her love tasted like berries, too. Lifting her by her hips, he sat her on the bookshelf, spreading her legs to stand between them.

The candlelight reflected off her pale skin, and Erik followed the trail of light down her neck and chest and across her collarbone. Fire sparked on his fingertips and he set his shirt aflame, commanding it to burn the fabric while leaving Janelle’s skin untouched. Ashes floated around them like snow, and a rumble escaped Erik’s chest.

"Beautiful," he rasped as goosebumps dotted her skin. He warmed his body, his hands and lips with the fire inside him as he trailed kisses down her chest, across her peaked nipples to her belly button, then toward her hip.

Janelle tried to grab Erik’s head and pull him back up to kiss him, but he pinned her with a stare. "Every inch of you deserves to be worshiped. Especially your scars."

She paused, running a hand across his cheek before leaning back and allowing him to do just that. He traced the lines with his tongue, whispering praises as he silently vowed to never allow her perfect skin to be marred again, to make the soldiers who had done this pay a thousandfold.

Janelle sighed, finally relaxing, her hands bracing on the thick, stone shelf, and the sound went straight to his cock. Erik ran his hands from her hip bones down her thighs, stopping at her knees and spreading her wide before him as he fell to his knees. Janelle threw her head back, scooting closer to the edge of the bookcase.

It was all the permission Erik needed as his lips closed over her, sucking and swirling his tongue. The gasp that left Janelle’s throat was the most beautiful sound Erik had ever heard, sending a jolt of desire that made fire trail along the ground where he knelt.

"More," Janelle moaned, grabbing the back of his head and grinding against his lips. He spread her legs wider as Janelle wound tighter and tighter. "Erik!" she cried, and it was his undoing. He had to be inside her, had to take her and feel her around him as she begged for release.

Erik stood, pulling his belt from its prison of loops with one swift movement and quickly unbuttoned his pants. Janelle lurched toward him, wrapping her arms around his neck at the same moment he thrust inside her, both of them stilling as he slid in to the hilt. Her ragged breaths caused her breasts to slide against his chest, and Erik grew impossibly harder.