Page 106 of Lore of the Wicked Wood
“But I’m not,” she countered, her eyes flashing so the gold rings around the center flared hot and bright. “I’m not safe at all. Not anymore. I should’ve stayed away from him. I should have listened to you. To Veros.”
Everinne raked both hands through her hair, then clutched the back of her neck. A tremor of frustration skated down the bond, its growing presence shrouding the rise of panic that caused her heart to race.
“I gave Reine a drop of my blood. My blood, Atlas. She’s going to know, if she doesn’t already, she will soon enough. That’s probably why Jarek is after me anyway, they must know what I’m capable of. Why else would he drug and mark me?”
She clasped her palms together and shoved them in her lap, staring down as swirls of inky black and violet spilled from her fingers. The scent of midnight lilacs hung heavy in the air as she clenched her fists together, as her death-touched magic filled her with dread.
“She told me. Aisling told me I wouldn’t be able to leave. I won’t be able to get away from the Mystic Obscura.” Everinne pressed her lips in a hard line and squeezed her eyes shut, pain etching across her usually smooth brow. Her magic amplified, the stretches of darkness unfurling like a caged beast. “I’m trapped.”
“You are not trapped. Look at me.” Atlas grabbed her and pulled her onto his lap. He cupped both sides of her face with his hands and lowered his forehead to hers. “Everinne Auvyre. Look. At. Me.”
Her eyes flew open and locked onto his, drawing him into their stunning depths. It was as though someone had taken the beauty of the Ladova Bay, with its turquoise waters, and fractured it with sunlight. He wanted to dive in, to drown in her forever.
“Breathe with me.” He stroked her cheeks in slow, measured movements, leaning in so her chest rose and fell in time to his, even and steady.
Then he slid into her mind, sneaking past the barrier of her innermost thoughts, determined to soothe her turmoil.
“You control your magic, Wildheart.”
Astonishment registered in her gaze, and then her lashes fluttered closed. She wove her arms around his neck, her lips brushing back and forth across his own, taking his every breath as though it belonged to her. Breathing him in, melting into him as the bond thrummed and warmed.
“You control it,” he repeated.“Only you.”
“But what if I can’t?”Her voice was like music in his mind, a decadent cadence, the melody of his soul.“What if it’s too much?”
Atlas dropped his hands from her cheeks, guiding them slowly to her waist. His fingers slipped beneath the shirt, his rough palms molding to her hips. “Then I will be right here. Take whatever you need from me. I won’t let you fall, Ever.”
She sighed then eased back, breaking their almost kiss. “You say that now.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” His grip on her tightened but she didn’t seem to notice. Her arms were still draped around his neck, her knees nestled against the outside of his thighs as she straddled him, completely nude save for his shirt and those fucking stockings.
He hardened beneath her, and she rolled her hips against him. His pants were still unbuttoned, and the heat of her cunt pulsed against him, her slickness coating him with each little rock of her hips.
“It means,” she hummed, her tongue swiping along his bottom lip, “that eventually I’ll fall. You’ll see. I’ll push you away like I do everyone. You won’t try to catch me, because you’ll think I can save myself. It’s a kind of self-destruction. But it doesn’t matter, because I’ll fall all the same.”
Her eyes finally opened again, and she pressed her mouth to his in a soft kiss. “And when I do, there will be nothing left.”
She lifted slowly, rising over him, positioning herself directly above his erection. One good thrust of the hips and he’d be buried inside her. Gods, he was so fucking ready for her. He’d planned on waiting, figured he would finally take her on their wedding night, but right now she was so wet and willing, and if she wanted him, then who the fuck was he to deny her? Her nails dug into his shoulders, clutching him like he was an anchor andshe was in danger of drifting out to sea. Her breathing hitched, coming in ragged pants, and he wasn’t even inside her yet.
He bit back a grin.
The sweet noises she made turned him into an arrogant prick and he reveled in it.
Everinne lowered herself an inch, just barely enough for the tip of his cock to feel the slick warmth of her cunt, and then she froze.
“I can’t.”
She crawled off him, and his head slammed back against the headboard, a groan of despair erupting from some feral part of him. His balls ached. His cock throbbed to the point of pain, and he gripped it with one hand, squeezing firmly to relieve some pressure.
Bleeding skies, he wanted to die.
Everinne lurched off the bed, tugging his shirt around her, and folding her arms across her chest. “This was a mistake.”
Atlas buttoned his pants and stood, stalking around the bed. She backtracked quickly, retreating from him until she was pressed against the nearest wall between the verandah and the bathing suite. Her chin was raised, but he didn’t miss the way she tried to suppress the shiver when he slammed his hands against the wall, effectively blocking her path.
“Then take off your ring,” he demanded quietly, searching through the confusion plaguing her face. “If this was such a mistake, give my mother’s ring back to me, and go tell my father you’ve changed your mind.”
“That’s not fair. You know I can’t do that.” She wet her bottom lip with her tongue, and he hated himself for tracking it, for being unable to tear his gaze from her lush mouth. “He’ll punish me for it. He’ll punish both of us.”
