Page 23 of Roaring Heat
She leans into the contact with a quiet sigh, her eyelashes fluttering as her eyes soften, lips parting just enough to tell me she’s holding her breath. The space between us disappears, filled with the raw thrum of anticipation, of want so sharp it tightens my gut.
"You have no idea what you're doing to me," I murmur as I raise my head and search her face.
"I think I have some idea."
I lower my head--my lips hovering above hers. "Tell me to stop."
"Don't you dare."
The kiss crashes into me like a rogue wave, fierce and all-consuming, knocking every coherent thought from my mind. My lungs seize, not from lack of air, but from the shock of how instantly and completely she consumes me. Her mouth is urgent and seeking. The way her body presses to mine sparks a deep, aching hunger I’ve kept caged for too damn long. Every muscle locks tight as I lose myself in the heat of her lips, the rhythm of our mouths tangling, the sharp need that pulses through me like a drumbeat I can’t ignore.
Her mouth opens under mine, hot and demanding, and the taste of her is like lightning against my tongue. Her fingers thread through my hair, tugging just enough to send a spark of heat straight down my spine. I grip her hips and pull her flush to me. She gasps, her body arching like she’s trying to crawl inside my skin. The heat between us flares, raw and electric, no space left for hesitation or doubt. Just the fierce, visceral certainty that this connection, this wildfire between us, is real.
Her hands grip the hem of my shirt, yanking it upward with a hunger that makes my pulse pound. I raise my arms, helping her strip it away, and the cool air hits my skin, heightening everynerve. I toe off my boots, my jeans follow, shoved down and kicked aside.
Her fingers are clumsy with urgency as they fumble with her clothes, and I reach to help, brushing her trembling hands aside. The fabric parts under my touch, sliding off her shoulders to reveal skin that glows in the low light—bare, flushed, rising and falling with shallow breaths that match my own. She’s beautiful and burning, and all mine.
My hands slide slowly down the length of her arms, feeling the tremble in her muscles before circling her waist and sweeping around to her back. Her skin is warm and soft beneath my fingers, and as I lift her, her legs lock around my waist in a move so fluid and natural it punches the breath from my lungs. Her body presses close, heat meeting heat, and I carry her to the bed with a single-minded urgency, her weight a perfect counter to my strength, as if she was made to fit against me like this.
We tumble onto the mattress, breathless and tangled, our bodies magnetized in the rush of want. My lips find hers in a bruising kiss, then trail down the delicate line of her throat, tasting the heat that pulses just beneath her fevered skin. Her breath catches, nails biting into my back as she arches into me, her need like a rising tide that pulls me deeper into the undertow of her desire. Every scrape of her nails, every stuttered gasp, ignites something primal, anchoring me in the storm of her unraveling.
"Beau," she gasps, arching into me.
I slow for a beat, bracing on my forearms to look into her eyes. "I need you to be sure. This isn't just heat. This is... more."
Her voice is a whisper, but there's no uncertainty. "I know. And I want it. I want you."
I press forward, breaching her warmth with my cock. Inch by aching inch, I let her wet heat pull me deeper. Her breath hitches, soft and desperate, her thighs tightening around myhips as her body draws me in. Every subtle movement, every tremble of muscle and flutter of breath, wraps around me like fire and silk. Her lips part on a low, raw moan that knocks the air from my lungs, landing in the center of my chest like a fist.
She feels like salvation and sin, everything I never believed I could have, wrapped in an aching beauty. Her hands claw at my shoulders, fingers digging in with the same desperation I feel in my gut. Her heels press into the backs of my thighs, anchoring me deeper, like she can’t bear even an inch of space between us.
I move in a rhythm we carve together, every thrust deliberate, dragging a ragged breath from her lips and a guttural sound from my chest. The slick heat of her body surrounds me, pulls me deeper with each driving stroke.
Her name tumbles from my mouth, raw and unguarded. She clutches me tighter, her legs trembling, back arching as she shatters beneath me with a cry that echoes off the walls. The moment she falls apart beneath me, I lose myself too. Her name rips from my throat as I spill into her, my body locking against hers, muscles taut with release. The world narrows to the molten tangle of our limbs, the rhythmic crash of pleasure, and the slow, powerful settling of something deeper. Something permanent sinks into the space between us, anchoring us in a connection that feels both primal and impossible to undo.
The room pulses, a low vibration thrumming through the floorboards and into our bones. The walls seem to breathe, the wood beneath us alive with an energy that makes my skin prickle and my chest constrict with something primal.
Anabeth’s eyes widen as threads of golden light shimmer across the ceiling, faint but undeniable. The air grows heavy, charged like the moments before a lightning strike. Every nerve in my body sharpens, resonating with the unseen current surging through the cottage.
The ley lines respond with a low thrum that reverberates through the floor, a pulse of ancient energy that coils up my spine. Threads of light shimmer faintly across the ceiling, swirling and alive, as if the mountain itself acknowledges what we've become. The power feels sacred, a primal echo that confirms what we both already know—this moment changed everything.
The sensation climbs my spine, as though the land itself is echoing the bond we’ve forged. Energy gathers in a charged hush, wrapping around us, bearing witness.
A tremor ripples beneath the floorboards, subtle but insistent. My breath catches as the vibration threads through the foundation, the mattress humming faintly beneath us. For a heartbeat, it feels as if the ley lines have claimed us, recognizing what we’ve become.
I glance at Anabeth. Her pupils are wide, chest rising in shallow pants. Her fingers dig into my forearm, the unspoken question trembling in her muscles before it ever leaves her lips. The ley lines answer, energy spiraling low in our cores skin. A shimmer ripples through the air, like static before a summer storm.
I collapse beside her, one arm wrapping around her waist, holding her against me.
She blinks up at the ceiling. "Okay... what the hell was that?"
"That?" I laugh, relieved that her tone of voice holds no fear. "That was the ley lines responding. They feel it when mates bond. When something sacred happens."
"Like sex?"
"Like claiming," I say, kissing her temple. "Like soul-deep recognition."
She swallows hard, her eyes searching mine. "That’s what that was?"
