Page 121 of Falling Princess
Interesting that Hallie’s going. Her situation makes me appreciate how my father at least tried to give me a semblance of normalcy. Hallie’s parents didn’t even pretend to try.
My friends bustled out the door, leaving me to wonder whether it was a mistake not to go with them.
I’m not sure why it took me so long to realize that Lorcan and I were totally alone for the first time since Paris.
Oh.
I knocked on his door without considering that my appearance could have been improved. Too late.
“Zosh?” he asked, cracking it open.
“May I come in?”
I’ve been in here a few times for calls. His space is as neat as a pin and full of sharp objects. His archery set is displayed above the desk. Swords from the safe house adorned the wooden wall of his wardrobe.
The antique Italian dagger hangs next to his bed. It’s a confusing placement. He claims not to be romantically interested in Raina, but he must know the significance of that gift. They’ve been close friends forever. He knows Myseci traditions as well as Auralian ones. I don’t dare to ask about it.
I know that one of the drawers under his built-in bed is full of disposable ceramic blades. He doesn’t bother trying to conceal them from me. He does hide the guns, knowing I don’t care for them.
“Princess?” he prompted.
“I…”
...have absolutely no legitimate purpose in being here, and he knows it. I fisted his shirt and dragged him in for a kiss.
We both exhaled with relief. His hands slid up my back, taking my top along for the ride, stripping it over my head. Warm, rough palms on my bare skin, drifting down but not yet daring to go further. I melted, my insides soft and hot and aching.
Lorcan stroked my hair. I pressed an open-mouthed kiss to his neck. I traced the play of his corded muscles beneath skin bearing the evidence of old wounds. I dug my fingers into his hair and anchored his mouth to mine. His heart pounded steadily in his chest, and I felt it echo within me.
Lorcan pulled away, his eyes, bright and dilated, rings of blue around dark centers, searching my face. He couldn’t seem to decide whether to push me away or bring me closer.
“We have to stop.”
If it’s up to me, we’ll never stop.
“What if I don’t want to?”
His eyes closed for a long moment. When they opened again, I read in him a helpless sort of triumph.
“This isn’t how it’s meant to happen,” he growled. “You deserve better.”
“I don’t want better. I want this. Now. With you.”
I nipped the spot beneath his ear with my teeth. Lorcan made a broken sound and hauled me hard against his torso. Then he pressed hot open-mouthed kisses down my jaw and onto my throat. I went up in flames.
“Yes,” I whispered into his hair.
“Not here.”
“Where?”
“Your study. Marginally more respectable if they come home early.”
“Good idea.” I snatched up my shirt—there’s no point in leaving evidence behind—and carried it loosely by my hip with no pretense of modesty. Lorcan locked his door behind us. I noted, not for the first time, that he’s changed the knob from a flimsy button lock to one with a bolt, requiring a thumbprint to get in.
We made it across the living area, stumbling between kisses and laughing. I tossed the shirt aside while Lorcan twisted to close the door behind him. His palms came to my face and his lips again met mine hungrily. I sobbed against his kiss.Yes.
I’ve needed this so badly.
