Page 24 of The Reckoning
“Shhh, it’s okay. I’m here now,” I interrupt, unable to bear the self-recrimination in his voice. “We both are. But I need to know we aren’t going to just keep fighting and making things worse. I’ll say this only once, Arson. If you want me, you can have me. All of me. But the same goes for Aries. I belong to you both equally, or I belong to neither of you.”
There’s a heartbeat in which I couldn’t even believe I’d said that out loud. Then he sighs long and deep, licking his lips as if he’s thinking, then he glances back up at me.
Something shifts in his expression—a hunger, a need so primal it makes me shiver. His hand comes up, covering mine, his touch soft and warm. Turning his head, he presses his lips against my palm, the gesture so tender that an ache forms in my chest.
“Fuck…you don’t understand, Lilian. When I thought I’d lost you,” he murmurs against my skin. “When Drew said you were passed out, that you needed medical attention?—”
“Drew?” I blink, trying to place the name. “Aries’s friend? Why was he there? Did he help rescue me?”
“They both did,” Arson admits reluctantly. “While I played the dutiful son role for Richard.”
The mention of my stepfather makes me sick to my stomach. That explains his outfit. “He knew I was missing?”
“I don’t know if he knew, but he knowssomething,” Arson confirms, his expression darkening like an impending storm cloud. “He mentioned a newtreatment protocolthat they want to try on you. Something developed at Hayes Enterprises Medical Research Division.”
The same division that ran the facility where Arson was kept. Panic fills my veins. I won’t be trapped, won’t be another victim.
“They want to trap me,” I whisper. “Like they trapped you.”
“I would love to see them try.” Arson smiles, the look so terrifying it even scaresme. He rises from his knees and settles on the edge of the bed. “They’ll wish death had come to them sooner if they try to hurt you or take you away from me again.”
The ferocity in his voice, the absolute certainty—it stirs the embers of desire in me, an answering flame to his. Without thinking, I reach for him, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer.
“Lilian,” he warns, even as he leans in. There’s no denying our pull. Even he can feel the flames of desire licking at our skin. “You’re injured and stressed. I couldn’t…”
“I’m not really injured, and I’ll be stressed my whole life. That doesn’t change that I want you,” I breathe, cutting him off. “Or lessen how much I need you right now.”
“Goddammit, Lilian.” I can’t help but smile at the way he curses my name while watching his resistance shatter—quiet but devastating, like a dam giving way beneath too much pressure.
I’m mesmerized by the flare of his nostrils and the tight clench of his jaw. How he tries to fight the inevitable before giving in with a low, broken groan that sounds like it’s being dragged from the very center of his being.
EIGHT
LILIAN
In a blink, he’s on me. His mouth slams into mine—sudden, bruising, like he’s been dying of thirst and I’m the only drop of water he’ll ever have. The force of it rips a gasp from me, but he swallows the sound, devouring me like he’ll never let go. His hands clutch my face, shaking, almost frantic, his fingers digging into my jaw as if he’s terrified I’ll slip away. His lips are rough, punishing, then desperate, softer one second only to crash back into me harder the next, like he can’t decide if he wants to worship me or consume me whole.
The taste of him—salt, heat, wildness—rushes through me, and I’m clawing at him, dragging him closer, closer, until I’m pressed beneath the full weight of his body. His chest crushes against mine, his heartbeat a furious drum I feel everywhere, echoing in my ribs, in my throat, in the frantic pounding of my own.
I fist his hair, yanking him down until his groan vibrates against my lips. He answers by prying me open, his tongue tangling with mine, claiming, conquering, desperate to leave no part of me untouched. I moan into him, arching against his touch, and he shudders, like the sound alone is enough to break him apart.
His hands are everywhere—spanning my waist, gripping my hips, sliding up my ribs as though he’s mapping me with fevered devotion. Every stroke burns, every touch ignites, until I’m writhing under him, my body begging without words for more, always more.
The kiss turns savage, teeth clashing, mouths colliding like we’re fighting for air inside each other. My lips sting, my lungs burn, but I can’t stop. I don’t want to. His breath is ragged against mine, each exhale searing, dragging me deeper under until there’s nothing but him—his weight, his taste, his hands claiming me like I’m his salvation. When he finally rips his mouth from mine, he’s gasping, chest heaving, his forehead pressed hard against mine.
“We shouldn’t,” he chokes out, though his hand is already beneath my shirt, his palm hot against my skin, dragging higher.
I bite his lip, tugging him back to me, whispering against his mouth between breaths. “Then don’t stop. Not now. I need you. I need to feel anything but fear. I need to feelyou.”
That sends him over the edge. His hazel eyes darken, pupils swallowing the gold until they’re nothing but black fire. “I can make you feel.” His voice is rough silk, a threat and a vow. “I’ll take it all. Until the only thing left in your head is me—my hands, my mouth, my cock.”
“Yes.” The word tears free, trembling, desperate.
His palms glide higher, calloused skin branding every inch as they slide beneath my borrowed T-shirt. I lift my hips instinctively, offering more, heart hammering against my ribs.
Arson’s chuckle rumbles low against my mouth, dark and obscene. “So fucking eager,” he murmurs, voice thick with satisfaction. His fingers trace over my pussy—light, taunting, cruel. The tease sends a sharp jolt through me, a needy whimper spilling before I can hold it back. I’m already soaked, my thighs trembling, every nerve wound too tight.
“Please,” I gasp, raw and unsteady.
