Page 56 of Into the Light

“Mine,” he whispered in my ear. “You’re just simply . . . mine.”

He caressed my cheeks and I melted into his touch. “I like the color blue.”

I pulled back, the corners of my lips twisting into a smile. “Blue? I would’ve pegged you for a depressive gray.”

He chuckled. “No, we have more than enough of that color in Isles. Now it’s my turn.”

“Alright.” His fingers continued to trace the contours of my face.

“What do you envision yourself doing after graduation?” he inquired. “If you could choose anything.”

“I would write his story, our story, so it would be forever memorialized,” I replied, hesitating slightly after his recent confession about wanting me to be his and our mutual honesty about our feelings.

His hand never stopped moving on my face, even when I spoke of Ash. He pulled my head so I was leaning to the side, and whispered in my ear, “I think you should do that.”

“I wish,” I commented. “I know my dad has some plan for me, to marry me off to one of his buddies. We never really talked about it, but it was always just assumed.”

A low growl could be heard throughout the room.

“I’ve been through so much, Rain,” I whispered. “I guess all I want now is to live quietly in the countryside.” I paused.

“Maybe we could be neighbors in our future life.” I chuckled before his warm tanned hands swiped the hair off my forehead.

“What you’ve been through in life wrote your story. It made you stronger,” he added, but I only chuffed because that’s what I’d read constantly, but it wasn’t true.

“No,” I demanded, shifting so I was still on his lap but now my eyes fixated on him. “What I’ve been through in my life nearly wrecked me. It gave me nightmares. It stole my true identity. It made me feel deeply alone and a pain that nearly wrecked me.” He stared back at me with his deep-blue eyes.

“I was handed something that I didn’t ask for. In fact, I was desperate to live a life that was different from my parents, from Walsh’s, from Ash’s, even now, but it’s the trauma that helped me learn to live. It was in this shit that I trudged through where I learned so much about myself—my strength, my power, and the ability to overcome pain.”

A cleansing breath escaped my lips as I paused, gazing through the room’s dimly lit expanse and out into the densely wooded forest beyond the windows. “So, please don’t tell me that I’m stronger because of the hardships I’ve had to endure in this life. No, I made it through all of this because I unearthed my inner strength I had all along.”

There was an eerily quiet that passed between us before his fingers crept up to my lips. A shiver passed through my spine as his fingers traced the outline of my lips.

“The words that come out of this mouth are like being wrapped up with a good book on a cold day. You know that feeling?” I thought my heart was about to explode with how fast it was beating. Unable to string together a complete sentence, I just nodded.

“Ember?” he rasped as he brought my forehead down onto his, his thumb still circling my mouth.

“Yeah?” I could hardly talk between my heart racing a mile a minute and my lungs slowly losing breath.

“I need to kiss you, but I am trying to be respectful of your boundaries.” His finger parted my mouth, and I slowly bit down as I shifted on his lap. He was very . . . hard. His free hand wrapped around the back of my neck.

“Ugh,” he groaned, pressing our foreheads together.

In the cocoon of our shared silence, I could practically hear the thunderous rhythm of my heartbeat. His thumb continued its mesmerizing exploration of my lips, a slow, deliberate caress that sent shivers through my body. I couldn’t help but nibble softly, aching for more, as a pool of desire welled inside my core, its intensity growing with each passing second.

His strong hands gripped me by my hair, pulling me back with a confidence that exposed the vulnerable expanse of my neck. The heat of his breath, a warm whisper, teased its way up from my chin, each languid movement feeling like an exquisite form of torture. His fingers, once tenderly tracing my plush lips, now held my chin with possessive intent, guiding me down until our mouths hovered atop each other. The air around us seemed to crackle with electric tension, our locked gazes revealing a profound connection neither of us could deny.

Another pause.

“Fuck it.”

In that fraction of a moment, his lips seized mine, igniting a blaze of longing that consumed every ounce of resistance. His mouth, warm and full, felt like a seamless fit, as if it had been crafted specifically to meld with mine. Yet it wasn’t just the sensation of his lips against mine that had me surrendering so completely, but the way he moved, each calculated stroke and flick of his tongue sent me spiraling into a heady abyss of need. His assertiveness, a stark departure from his usually reserved demeanor, commanded my surrender, skillfully parting my lips and leading me deeper into the kiss.

“Like everything I’ve dreamed of,” he murmured between pants. I could only respond by letting out the smallest moan.

“Do that again and I might fucking come in my pants, mi pareja.”

I shifted again so I was straddling him and my knees were tucked in the cushion of the oversized reading chair. We were the same height from this position, but his mouth never left mine. I only responded by moving my hips in slow circles.

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