Page 30 of Pain Run Rampant

“Maybe I’m just stronger than you,” I say with a grin.

His jaw grinds, and yet he wears a slight smile. “Stronger than me? Rey, be serious, for once.”

“I am serious. Completely, one hundred percent—” I plan on saying more, but the hand resting above my scar moves to my arm, and the moment his hand brushes along my bare skin, I shiver and freeze, unable to say anything else.

His fingertips dance across my tattoo, the one we share, and it’s like the magic between us comes to life. The tattoo on my arm and wrist starts to glow, and the one he has that mirrors mine does the same. I hear him inhale a sudden breath, like he wasn’t expecting it, and it takes every ounce of willpower in me to not close my eyes.

And it’s a good thing I don’t, because if my eyes close, I would miss the fact that his blue irises flash with a molten, shimmery gold. A part of the true Invictis shining through a human’s face.

The breath that comes from him after that is ragged, almost pained, and the lower half of his body leans against mine as he whispers with an urgency I can practically taste, “What are you doing to me?”

“I’m not—” I realize then he might’ve meant it as a rhetorical question, so I shut up. Also, his tattoo-less hand rose to my face and is now touching my cheek while his other hand still touches the glowing mark on my other arm.

We’re connected, some deep part of us. I can feel him, parts of him I shouldn’t, his emotions, his desires, his hunger, and it’s overwhelming. Enough to drown me and keep me submerged in his depths. He is still everything I should hate and nothing I should want, and yet…

The hand on my cheek nears my mouth, and the back of his thumb brushes against the corner of my lips, and just like that, any sane thought in me leaves. Any part of me that might’ve stopped him dies.

It’s wrong, but I don’t care.

I hate him, but I don’t care.

He’s the bad guy in this story, and I just don’t care.

How can it be so wrong when it feels like destiny? How can I hate him for everything he’s done when I want him so badly it hurts? How the hell can he be the bad guy when I can’t imagine destroying him for good?

I don’t know exactly when it happens, but something changes. We both come to the realization that neither of us is going to pull away. Invictis bends his top half down the same moment I stand on my tiptoes and reach for his neck to anchor myself to him. It happens so fast, but at the same time it happens slowly.

I’m the one who presses my lips against his first. Just a quick peck before I pull myself away and crack open my eyes.

Invictis is watching me, though his face is now so close it’s pretty much one big blur. That said, his eyes still glow gold. He studies me, my face, my lips, and then he acts by dropping his hands to my hips and hauling me up. Before I know it, my ass is set on the stone wall of the balcony mere moments before our mouths meet again—and this time, he’s the one who goes for it.

Now that he doesn’t have to bend down at a God-awful angle, it’s easier on the both of us. I’m able to wrap my arms around his neck the moment his mouth crashes down on mine, and I spread my legs so his body can fit between them. His arms circle me, holding onto me with a fierceness that tells me he wouldn’t let go for the world.

If he smells like light and warmth, he kisses like fire. His mouth on mine ignites a heat deep within my belly, drawing out all of the emotions I spent so long trying to bury. Hunger and desperation personified, every inch of my skin set aflame.

It’s clumsy at first, but whether that’s due to the sheer level of desire between us or the fact that, in all probability, he’s never kissed anyone before, it doesn’t matter. As the seconds wear on, the embrace gets less clumsy and worlds more eager.

Every part of me is buzzing. It’s like Invictis made something explode within me and I’ve never felt more alive. More wanting. Fireworks popping off in my head and certain parts of my body, my back arches against him as his arms tighten around my back.

He could push me off the balcony. He could let me go and I’d be too dumbstruck to tell him to catch me before I hit the ground. He could do a thousand terrible things to me right now and I’d be too busy flying high to stop him.

But he doesn’t. He doesn’t do any of those things.

By the time our lips part, we’re both panting for breath, and through slit eyes, I can see his still glow gold, matching our still-glowing tattoos.

“That,” Invictis murmurs between heavy breaths, “was…”

“Careful,” I warn him. “If you want to kiss me again, you better say it was good.”

“The world could’ve crumbled around us and I wouldn’t have known.”

I grin. I can’t help it. I’d say that’s a good thing. A hell of a lot better than good, that’s for sure, and the silly thing is, I feel the same. There could’ve been earthquakes, lightning, tornadoes, and anything else nature could throw at us, and I wouldn’t have noticed.

Invictis’s lips are softer than they look, and the guy’s a quick study. He went from inexperienced to panty-wetting real fast. And the way his arms are still wrapped around my back… yeah, a girl can get used to that.

He gives me a wicked smirk before saying, “I wouldn’t mind doing it again.”

What else can I do? I’m in no position to resist. Plus, if I’m honest, I’m still all tingly from the first embrace, so why not kiss him again? And again and again and again… and maybe a dozen more times after that, just to be sure?

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