Page 125 of Feathers of Ash and Hope

“Maybe I think it’s worth the risk,” I whisper. Tate freezes at my words, then tries to pull back. I drop my head to his shoulder with a groan.

Tate

Her words havethe same effect as a bucket of ice water, making me instantly aware that this could fuck up everything for her. I try to pull back, but Ara clings to me, letting her head drop to my shoulder with a groan.

“Shit wording,” she grumbles, then kisses my neck. “Ditch whatever noble thought caught up to you,” she demands and nips my earlobe before pulling back and looking me straight in the eye. Her lips, swollen from my kisses, stretch into a wicked smile.

She is magnificent.

“Please, Tate, I want you.” Need slams into me, nearly making my knees buckle.

“Fuck, are you trying to kill me here?” I groan.

“No, simply trying to get you out of your head.” She chuckles. I groan again, trying to hold on to the last scrap of my control. “Look at me,” she demands, and I do. How can I not, when for weeks now I haven’t been able to see anything but her as soon as she enters a room?

Her hair is a mess from my hands tunneling into it, her lips are swollen, her cheeks flushed, her eyes heavy with want, and her clothes rumpled.

“If they catch me coming out of your room like this”—she looks down at her body—“they won’t care if we went that far or not, so we might as well take what we need.” Her reasoning makes sense in a twisted kind of way, or maybe it’s just that I so badly want it to make sense.

But right or wrong is forgotten when her next words shred the last bit of my control.

“I need you, Tate,” she whispers into my ear, her breath playing against my skin, and I’m lost.

Who am I kidding? I was lost the second I opened the door, and she looked at me like I was the cake she compared me to weeks ago, or even the moment I found out who she was and her skin pebbled for me.

I rock into her, and her needy whimper is like a gust of wind to smoldering embers.

“This has to go. Now,” I demand and tug her shirt up while she lifts her arms. Her shirt lands on the floor next to us, and she looks up at me. The trust on her face lets warmth flood my chest, waking a tenderness I never felt before. I tuck a strand of hair behind her ear and trace her braid.

“Can you let it down?”I ask.

She nods, smiling, and I duck in, needing to feel that smile against my lips while Ara gets to work on her braid.

I explore her mouth, reveling in her taste and the feeling of her against me. My finger traces circles against the silky skin of her lower back, and her hands falter. Then she pulls back, gasping.

“How am I…” She breathes. “Supposed to do anything that needs coordination, with your hands and mouth on me?”

“I can stop,” I say and give her a wicked smile before I trace her collarbone with my tongue.

Goose bumps spread over her skin.

So damn sensitive.

“Don’t you dare.” She gasps, making me chuckle.

Her hair falls around her like a golden veil, the soft strands tickling my chest and shoulders.

I will never get enough of her.

The thought should frighten me, but it doesn’t. She’s the sunlight that ended my winter, and the past weeks proved she’s safer with me than without me, so I’m not letting her go.

I bury one hand in her hair, the way I’ve wanted to since I saw it trailing down her back at the tavern.

“You are perfect,” I say and watch her eyes go tender. Our mouths find each other in another kiss softer, gentler, this time more savoring than demanding.

“Are you sure about this?” I ask when I come up for air.

“Yes,” Ara answers with truth in her voice. My heart accelerates with anticipation, and I walk over to my bed with Ara still in my arms.

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