Page 33 of #Resort Love
“Open your eyes, Sybil.”
Chapter 19
Sybil
Islowly opened my eyes, gasping at the soft light that hummed above my hands. The warm glow illuminated the area around us and tears of joy blurred my sight. I did it. I finally had enough control to create something. I had been so close to giving up, so lost in feeling like this was an impossible task. But now, with such exhilaration swelling through me, I held something so beautiful, so magnificent.
Looking over my shoulder, the deep blue of Ambrose’s eyes glowed from the soft light, taking my breath away. His heated gaze swept to mine, making my legs feel weak. His grip loosened on me, allowing me to twist in his arms, the shining orb now between us. A wide smile spread across my face, unable to keep my excitement hidden as I gazed at the light, letting its warmth sink into my skin.
My eyes burned from the joy and relief that flooded my heart. I looked back to Ambrose, his eyes widened slightly as he searched my face, and I couldn’t look away. The moment stretched between us, the air turning taut. His hands movedslowly, hesitantly at first, until he cupped my face. I blinked at him, my lungs feeling tight.
It started off as a flicker, a spark of heat pooling low in my stomach and quickly turning into a firestorm. Goosebumps pebbled down my skin, need skirting through me at a single touch of his hand. My heart raced, my light flickering in my hands. My breath quivered when I took in the longing reflected in his eyes.
Another wave of heat pooled low when Ambrose pulled me into him, his lips crashing into mine. He swallowed my gasp, his hands threading through my hair, tilting my head up for better access, deepening our kiss. My light winked out and I grabbed hold of his shirt, pulling him closer against me. He groaned, his tongue sweeping across my lips, and I opened for him. Electricity shot through me, all the way to my core.
Ambrose moved, stepping us further into the room until my legs pressed against the wooden desk. His hands slid slowly, tauntingly, down my body until they were behind my thighs. Lifting me up onto the flat surface, he stepped between my legs, our kiss becoming more fervent, more wild.
I leaned into him, feeling his hand slide down my leg and lazily inch my skirt up. But something in my chest ached, the feeling dull. My eyes squeezed tighter at the pang and suddenly it wasn’t Ambrose in the room with me, it wasn’t his lips on mine. All I could think of was silver hair brushing against my face, smooth hands pulling me closer.
Ice cooled the heat in my veins, and I sucked in a breath, pulling away from Ambrose. I swallowed, willing my breathing to even out as I put my hand flat against Ambrose’s chest, pushing him away.
“Did I do something?” Ambrose asked, his voice low.
Guilt laced through me, and I stared at the space betweenus, unable to meet his gaze. “No, I just…it just feels too soon,” I whispered.
It was a lie and probably not a good one, but it was the best thing I could think of at the moment. I wasn’t even sure if the truth would have been something I could have spoken out loud. That it was another’s hands on my body, another’s lips against mine, kindling the fire inside me.
A shiver shot down my body and I sucked in a breath. Need pulsed along my skin, and my breath became heavy. Ambrose’s hands came to my arms, the touch so sensitive that I bit back a moan. I shook my head, pushing him further away so I could move off the desk and out of his reach.
“Darling, I?—”
“Sybil?” Samian’s voice echoed from the rows of bookcases outside the room.
My head whipped toward the door, and Ambrose silently growled. When I glanced back at him, he had turned and leaned against the desk. His face was hard, like it was set in stone, and his eyes were filled with annoyance. Alarm prickled at the edges of my mind but was engulfed by the lust still clinging to my body, making my skin flush.
“Sybil, are you in?—?”
“I’m here,” I said, a little too loudly. Grimacing, I ran my hand over my hair, hoping—praying—I didn’t look as strung out as I felt.
Samian walked into the room, his gaze bouncing between Ambrose and me, his mouth tightening. Ambrose grumbled something, too silent for my ears but not silent enough for Samian to miss. The wood along the walls groaned when Samian focused on Ambrose. His features were tight with an icy rage.
Samian looked back to me, noting my tousledhair and flushed face. Embarrassment scorched through me, quick and abrupt, and I began to stammer. “I—He—A-Ambrose and I were just training with my magic. He was guiding me through it.”
“Is that right?” Samian asked flatly. His voice was a cold calm that made my stomach drop.
Wincing, my body—my lungs—felt tight as a heavy tension thickened the air of the room, making it hard to breathe. I dared to glance at Ambrose, who leaned against the desk, picking at an invisible string on his tunic, and I paled. Samian’s lips curled, the wood along the desk rippling from his anger.
A small noise escaped my lips when Samian started toward Ambrose, making him pause. His infuriated gaze flicked to me, and I swallowed, everything in my mind emptying out. I did the only rational thing I could think of.
I ran.
I ran out of the library, leaving my books and bag.
I ran down the hallways, almost knocking into several servants.
I ran all the way to my room, slamming the door shut behind me.
Leaning against the cool wood, I gulped down air, my lungs burning. Cursing, I let my head thump against the door. All I wanted to do was curl underneath a rock and disappear. My mind replayed the moment that Samian realized I was alone with Ambrose, seeing me so tousled, knowingwhyI looked that way. I was a complete mess. Mortified.
