Page 113 of Skotos
We climbed the stairs to our flat, and I was fumbling with the key when Will suddenly grabbed my shoulders and spun me around, pressing my back against the door we’d just closed behind us.
“Will, what are you—”
His mouth covered mine, cutting off whatever question I’d been about to ask. His kiss was hungry, desperate, and full of all the fear and longing and relief we’d been carrying since Rome. I tasted wine on his lips and felt the urgency in the way his hands gripped my jacket.
When we finally broke apart, both breathing hard, his eyes were dark with an intensity that made my heart race. “I almost lost you,” he whispered,his forehead resting against mine. “In that chapel, on those rooftops, every time you threw yourself between me and danger. I thought I might lose you.”
“But you didn’t.”
“No.” His hands moved to cup my face again, thumbs brushing across my cheekbones. “But I need you to know—reallyknow—how much you mean to me.”
I barely knew what to say. Will and I had been together for nearly a decade, and still, this man stole my breath. His words . . . dear God . . . they were life.
I fumbled with the keys again, finally getting the door open. Will shoved me through, gripping my coat and yanking it over my shoulder the moment we entered the flat.
The door couldn’t shut fast enough behind us.
Hands gripped, clothes fell, and before I could catch my breath, we were both naked, smothering each other with kisses. Will led me to the couch, where he lay down and pulled me atop him. His body was warm, and I felt his heart racing as we pressed together.
There was such depth in his gaze.
Such love.
Such unabated desire.
I stared down for the longest moment, gently stroking his cheek, enjoying the simple presence of his body pressing into mine.
Then he twitched . . . down below . . . where no doubt lived, and even deeper desires stirred.
Our lips met, and the world fell away.
There were no missions, no nations, no leaders or assassins.
There was only us.
Only us.
And finally, after so long, I let go and gave myself to Will.
His hands gripped my back, fingers digging into the muscles, trailing up and down my spine, one landing on my butt to squeeze so hard I nearly winced.
Pain didn’t matter.
Only Will did.
I kissed him as deeply as the first time we’d lain beneath the ancient tree in Boston’s fabled garden. With the stroke of his tongue against mine, the taste of his breath, the growing heat and sweat between us, I stiffened.
And, dear God, so did he.
I felt him hardening, growing, leaking into me. The feel of his slickness as I moved against him sent a shiver across my skin. The thought of his life spreading across my stomach filled my soul.
For all the beauty in the world, none compared to what I saw in Will Shaw, what I felt in his arms. He transported me to another place and time, another life, andanother world . . . and I never wanted to return to normalcy, never wanted to let him go.
He groaned beneath me as our cocks slid together, and my own wetness joined his, making a sticky slickness that drove me wild.
“I want you so bad,” he breathed.
“You have me, now and always.”
