Page 156 of Beast and Remedy
“I… I don’t know what to say. I wanted her to tell us, but…” He shakes his head, his thumb caressing my jaw. “I can’t believe how easily that worked out.”
“Well, maybe she’s known this entire time we needed her help.”
He barks out a laugh. “True.” Sunlight and optimism brighten his features, his dimples piercing his cheeks perfectly. “But do you know what this means?”
Everything weighing me down lifts from the news, from the hope finally feeling possible and from the love shining in Beau’s eyes.
I grab his tunic, plastering more of myself to him as I nod eagerly. “We are so close.”
Beau’s mouth crashes into mine.
Need strikes me like a thunderstorm, and I melt into him. The desire from earlier returning with more force—more vigor—more urgency. I cling to him, deepening the kiss.
But Beau breaks away, grinning. “We’re going to find a cure.”
I beam, reveling in his hold and inhaling his comforting citrus scent.
His smile falters, and I almost ask what is wrong. But he murmurs, “Rosebud… you’re fucking breathtaking.”
My stomach flips, heat spreading across my face as he tucks loose waves behind my ears and cups my cheek.
I lean into his palm. “Do you really have to sleep in your own chambers tonight?”
Beau runs his thumb across my lip, and I take it into my mouth and suck. His golden eyes flash with desire when I pop his finger out.
He slips his hand down to my neck, gripping my throat as he spins us and pins me against the door.
My breath escapes when he presses into me, his hold tightening before he kisses me hungrily. I moan, and he rewards me with grinding his hips, his thumb hovering near my racing pulse.
The lack of air leaves me breathless and faint until we part, Beau panting with lust thick in his voice. “My chambers are your chambers for as long as you want.”
“Then, I will always want,” I breathe.
“Thank fuck.” Beau’s lips capture mine again, his hard length brushing along my center, and I groan.
The friction is blissful and sweet but never enough.
I dig my nails into his clothing, whimpering with urgency for more.
“Do I—” He pants. “Do I need to make a brew for—”
I grab him by the waist and plaster him to me, halting him. “I’ve got it, and I’ll take care of it.”
He concedes with a nod before fastening his lips back to mine.
Deeper and deeper, he kisses me as if he is not gifted by the Deity of Life but by the Deity of Death, wanting to steal every last ounce of my breath.
I rush to remove his belt and untuck his tunic from his trousers. My hands slink under his shirt, meeting his chiseled abdominal muscles.
I mewl with delight at the promise of exploring every inch of him.
But Beau draws back, his voice edged with a darker, more seductive tone. “You like that?”
I don’t bother answering, my reaction and touch enough of a tell. The proximity and lack of skin-to-skin contact has me scraping and clawing for more.
Abruptly, he pushes into me, a whoosh of air leaving my lungs enough to make me peer up.
He inches closer, repeating himself. “Do you like that?”
