Page 91 of Heart of the Rebel Mate

"You're supposed to be resting," I say, though the words come out softer than I intended.

His lips curve slightly. "You're supposed to be sleeping."

Neither of us moves. The hallway is quiet, the world outside this space muffled by stone and smoke. The battle still lingers in my bones, but something else rises to the surface now, thick and suffocating.

Adrian pushes off the doorframe, closing the distance between us in slow, measured steps.

I should step back. I should say something, anything to break the tension. But I don't. Ican't.

He stops just close enough that I can feel his heat.

"You scared the hell out of me back there," he murmurs.

I swallow hard. "You almost died."

His hand lifts—hesitates—then brushes his fingers along my jaw, trailing the edge of my cheek. The touch is featherlight, but itdestroysme.

Everything inside me tightens.

I don't want to feel this.

But Ido.

Gods, I do.

His thumb grazes my bottom lip, and I part them before I can stop myself. His eyes darken, something raw flickering behind them.

"Elara." My name is a whisper, reverent, full of something unspoken.

I don't let him finish.

I close the space between us, crashing my lips against his, tasting the aftermath of battle and the fire that's been simmering between us for too long.

Adrian doesn't hesitate. His hands grip my waist, pulling me flush against him, and I feel the strength of him, the heat of him, the need coiled tight beneath his skin.

We stumble backward, into the room behind us. The door slams shut.

Then there's only fire.

His hands roam, rough and desperate, tracing every inch of skin he can reach. My breath hitches as he lifts me, pressing me against the wall, his body fitting against mine like we were made for this.

His mouth finds my throat, teeth scraping lightly, teasing.

I arch into him, into the friction, the unbearable tension winding tighter and tighter.

My hands slip beneath his shirt, fingers mapping the hard planes of his chest. He shudders beneath my touch, a low growl rumbling in his throat.

The sound ignites something dangerous in me.

I rake my nails down his spine, and he hisses, eyes burning as they meet mine. Then his lips are on me again—hungrier, rougher.

I press my palm against him, against the thick, hard length of him straining through his pants, and Adrianshakes.

His grip tightens on my hips, his forehead dropping to mine as he curses under his breath. "You have no idea what you do to me."

I do. Iknow.Because I feel it too, this unbearable, burningneed.

For a moment, I forget the guilt, forget the battle, forget everything but this man.

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