Page 41 of Beneath the Desert Bloom
Please, she thought.Say something. Do something. Take this further.
But he didn’t.
He pulled back just enough to let the air rush between them. Just enough to let her feel the absence like a bruise.
She reached up anyway, her hand shaking, and touched his chest. Just once. Just to feel the truth of him. The heat under his skin. The thrum of something old and alive beneath her fingers.
“You’re real,” she whispered.
He didn’t answer at first.
But then, softly, like something breaking loose.
“You see me.”
And he stayed.
Later, when she drifted into sleep, she dreamed of water running through stone. Of hands parting her like petals. Of teeth at her throat. Of his mouth on her skin, so slow it was almost cruel.
And when she woke in the dim light, groggy and aching, she saw him.
Outside, crouched near the porch, watching. Still. Silent.
Waiting.
Not to be called.
Just to be near.
CHAPTER 11
NORA DIDN’T REMEMBER falling asleep. Only the way her body had finally given in, limp and buzzing, her mind fractured by pain and want.
When she woke, it was dark. Cool. The pain in her ankle still throbbed dully, but something else stirred deeper. A pressure low in her belly, humming and hot. Need and anticipation in equal parts.
And she wasn’t alone.
She felt him before she saw him. He didn’t knock. He just appeared, a silhouette in the doorway, tall and wild, eyes glowing.
She blinked up at him, heart thudding.
“Asher,” she whispered.
He didn’t speak. He stepped forward, slow and silent, heavier than air, more shadow than man. The floor creaked beneath his weight.
He crouched beside her, massive and motionless.
“I thought you left,” she said, throat dry.
He shook his head once.
And she knew.
He couldn’t stay away.
Not now.
Her lips parted. Her body remembered everything. The ache, the pressure, the way she’d burned under his fingers. And now he was here. Real. Heavy. Kneeling between her legs like a prayer given shape.
