Page 56 of Of Blooming Embers
“Ask. Again.”
“Do you regret … us?” Her voice trembled, and her pulse tapped frantically against my fingertips. Her aura materialized and quivered delicately around her in fractured, multicolored hues.
“Never,” I growled and crushed my lips into hers, light bursting from my rune.
22
NO OBJECTIONS
SERYN
Icouldn’t breathe. He’d stolen the very breath from my lungs. He slammed his lush lips into mine, and an all-consuming inferno swept through my body.
Although the bark against my back was fairly smooth, it ground into my shoulder blades. I savored its bite because it meant this was real. And I very much needed this to be real.
Not another dream.
Gavrel’s arm tensed beside my temple before his fingers burrowed into my hair, his fingers tangling in my curls, tugging. A jolt of heat zipped down my spine at the nip of pain.
His other hand gripped my neck.
Claiming me.
A deep throbbing pulsed within my core as his tongue pushed into my mouth. His broken groan spilled down my throat as our lips crashed and tongues melded and sparred. We were ravenous. Starving for the other in the turns we’d been kept apart.
The haunting chords of my humming song bled into our kiss as ifthe words were binding us, telling our tragic story and sparking something deep within me. Something bright and burning and laced in promise.
I dug the nails of my left hand into his wrist. My other hand fumbled under his coat until I clamped onto the tight muscles of his waist. I wanted to tear his clothes off and claw into his flesh until we were as one. Until I didn’t know where I ended and he began.
Whimpering, I yanked at his jacket, and we scuffled with each other as he fitfully removed the snug material from his thick arms and tossed it onto the shaking stairs below.
He kissed me again, sinking his glowing hand into my hair and bracing against the trunk with his other. He pressed the weight of his body into me. His knee wedged between my thighs, and his straining arousal pushed into my hip.
My core rubbed against his thigh repeatedly, and a moan tore from me, vibrating between our lips as we devoured each other. His hand scraping down the trunk rasped beside me, and in the next moment, both of his hands gripped the thin straps of my dress.
He leaned back, dragging his eyes over my chest. Breathing heavily, he snarled, “You don’t like this dress, do you?”
“Quite a lot.”
His mouth tipped deviously to the side, and he tugged, snapping the fabric. I sucked in air, damp heat pooling between my thighs while I instinctively grabbed the top of my dress and held it in place.
As the dewy air soothed the sting along my shoulders, he bit his bottom lip and then dragged his teeth over it. I wet my lips in response. “That was very wicked of you.”
With heavy eyelids, his emerald eyes glinted, and a feral grin spread across his face. His dimple flashed, and it never looked more roguish as he made a show of letting the strings flutter from his fingers and pushed his thigh more firmly into my apex.
I shuddered at the friction. At the throbbing.
He set his hands on either side of my head, caging me in. His hips pulled slightly away before returning and grinding his rigid cock against me.
My heartbeat thumped against my wrists, my scar, and my ribs.
My skin was vibrating.
I needed him as I needed my next breath.
More so.
Breathing was overrated.
