Page 219 of The Silent Note

She looks back at me, a wrinkle between her eyebrows. “I’ll burn the world for you too, Zane. That’s what I’ve decided.”

This woman has me completely under her spell, and I can’t hold back when I fall into her. Our clothes flutter away, flapping in the air like flocks of birds flying home for the night.

I toss her shoes and hear one rattle off the mountain. But Grey doesn’t mourn the loss because her groans of pleasure soon make their own journey off the edge of the cliff.

Her fingernails dig into my skin, urging me on. Then her fingers tug at the hair at the back of my neck, driving a deep, gravelly moan of appreciation from me.

We’re so different, her and I.

Even the way we collide.

Grey’s touch burns.

Mine destroys.

Her tongue dances.

Mine plunders.

And yet, we fit so perfectly, as if we were made for each other.

All around us, the shadows grow long. Where there was light, now there’s a deep, consuming night. The stars twinkle overhead and the black sky spreads over the vastness of the valley.

As the shadows shift, I discover a whole new world in the darkness the light left behind.

Grey’s body hums for me, receptive to every drag of my tongue, every sweep of my fingers, every press of my teeth.

She is decadent, a luscious oasis that unfurls layer by layer.

I take my time.

No need to rush.

And yet she begs, thrashes her hips, meets every thrust.

She’s on the brink fast and I keep her there, reacquainting myself with all her perfect, sensitive spots until I decide she’s had enough of the torture.

Covered in sweat and shaking, Grey screams my name until the sky, the clouds, and the barren sand all know whom she belongs to.

And I don’t stop.

I love you. I love you. I love you.

I brand it into her with every kiss, every touch, every incendiary pulse.

“I love you,” I say, my voice thick with desire as I feel her winding up.

She gurgles out something I’m sure means the same and then I kiss her, tasting her release and diving right under the currents with her.

The wind rushing through the trees applaud.

The moon is our spotlight.

Forbidden or not, our fates are written in the stars.

Grace Elizabeth Jamieson is now and forevermine.

Chapter Fifty-Eight

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