Page 166 of Caelum

Mine.

It was time I stopped running away from that and began embracing it.

They had been gifted to me for a reason. Evading them was doing us all a disservice, and it would, in the long run, make me miserable as heck.

“Nestor?” I rasped.

“Yes, Eve,” he replied, his tone husky.

“Will you kiss me?” I licked my lips. “Properly?”

His eyes flared with an emotion it took me a few seconds to analyze. When he did, I registered the heat, and it burned into me, branding me with his response.

I could no more stop the rocking of my hips into his belly than I could withhold the soft curving of my lips. I felt the hardness there, and after far too many jokes at my expense from Dre, I knew what that hardness was. Even knew where it went, and what would happen.

I had something calledCosmoto thank for that particular education.

“Are you sure?” Nestor asked, his voice shaking with something I knew was need.

“No,” I answered honestly. “I don’t know what I’m doing, and you may regret kissing me?—”

“Never,” he bitoff.

I wriggled inwardly at that. He sounded so vehement! “Well, if you can handle that, then?—”

Again, before I could finish the sentence, he interrupted me. This time, it wasn’t with words but with his mouth. His lips pressed into mine, soft at first, then harder as he tilted his head, his nose burrowing into the softness of my cheek as he began to peck at my lips. Soft kisses were pressed along the lines of my mouth, then he traced his tongue over them, and I shivered in response because it sent rays of delight dancing down my spine.

Hips rocking upward again in a startled reaction, I parted my lips and moaned again as his tongue delved between the soft pads of flesh. Fluttering here, flickering there.

When he grunted, I felt it in his kiss. The soft vibrations made me feel as though someone had set off fireworks inside me, and I felt myself open up to him as a direct response.

My arms curved upward, coming up to hook behind his neck. Hauling him closer to me, I hugged him tighter, and he took advantage of that to push us over so that suddenly I was on my back and he was on top of me.

Eyes flaring wide, I pulled back and scolded, “Nestor! You’re injured!”

“Fuck my injuries,” he growled, his head dropping down so he could kiss me once more.

“No!” I retorted, aware of just how much pain he was in. I wasn’t about to let him hurt himself again.

Before he could argue, I forced us to roll once more, and this time, I was on top. I knew he’d let me do that, knew he wouldn’t have budged if he hadn’t wanted to let me have some freedom of movement. Even as I relished that, I marveled at being on top of him.

I spread my legs, settling myself astride him so that his hips were between my thighs. The heat of him, the solidness of him, stunned me, even as I reveled in him, in what I felt in this position above him.

When I looked into his face, his smile unnerved me until he stated softly, “Someone likes being on top.”

Blinking, I asked, “Does that mean something?”

He snickered. “Yes. It does. Have you ever ridden a horse?”

I shook my head then blushed when I realized what he meant. I didn’t pull away though. Didn’t even bother trying to hide my reaction to his words.

I was eighteen now. A woman. Today, Father Bryan would have proposed to me, and only God knew when I would have been tied to him for life.

The very notion made me feel sick. The idea of being married to himhad made me nauseated when I’d lived on the compound. Now? Having experienced freedom? Having my guys around me, and one of them currently beneath me? I was so gloriously happy to be here, to be with Nestor, that I was willing to act on these emotions.

Willing to act my age for the first time in my life.

Biting down on my bottom lip, I reached for the hem of my shirt and dragged it overhead. I was nervous about revealing myself to someone else—especially a boy—but I knew nudity wasn’t that much of a big deal here.

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