Page 29 of Asher
Instead, he let his palm slowly turn, his fingers sliding between mine, interlocking.
The solidity of it grounded me, but it also sparked something deeper. A longing I didn’t want to examine too closely.
“We’ll figure it out,” I said softly, the words a fragile promise.
Gael turned his head, his eyes meeting mine.
That intensity swallowed me whole, a storm of emotions swirling in his dark gaze. Need, fear, desire. It stole my breath, left me raw and vulnerable.
My pulse pounded, loud in my ears. For a moment, the space between us felt like a live wire, crackling with suppressed energy.
I couldn’t stop myself. Didn’t want to. Before I could second-guess it, I leaned in, my breath shallow and quick.
Our lips met, tentative at first. A hesitant brush that ignited a slow, smoldering heat.
Gael’s mouth was cool against mine, but the way he kissed me set fire to every nerve in my body.
His lips moved carefully, almost reverently, as if he was afraid of breaking me. But I didn’t want careful. I wanted him.
A low sound escaped me, part frustration, part desperation, and I pressed harder, my fingers tightening around his hand.
That was all it took. He groaned softly, the sound vibrating between us, and his restraint snapped.
His other hand came up, cupping the back of my neck, fingers threading into my hair, holding me in place as he deepened the kiss.
His mouth moved against mine with a hunger that stole my thoughts, left me spiraling into sensation.
His fangs grazed my lower lip, a teasing scrape that sent a shiver down my spine.
I gasped into his mouth, and he took the invitation, his tongue sweeping in to claim mine.
The kiss turned wild, messy, all our frustration and confusion bleeding out into this fevered connection.
My world narrowed to the feel of him. His lips, his hands, the way his body leaned into mine, close enough that I could feel the tension coiled within him.
I let go of his hand, my own sliding up his chest, fingers fisting in the fabric of his shirt as if I could anchor myself there.
His chest rose and fell rapidly under my touch, and knowing that he was just as affected as I was sent a thrill through me.
I pulled back just enough to gasp for air, my forehead resting against his.
My lungs burned, my heart a frantic drumbeat against my ribs. Gael’s eyes were half-lidded, his pupils blown wide with desire.
His presence enveloped me, cool and intoxicating, but his gaze burned hotter than anything I’d ever felt.
“Asher,” he murmured, my name a rough plea, a question.
I didn’t answer with words. Instead, I surged forward and kissed him again, harder this time, our teeth clashing, lips bruising.
His fingers tightened in my hair, pulling just enough to make me groan.
I loved that edge of pain, loved how it blurred into pleasure when he soothed the sting with his lips.
I didn’t care about the world outside this train, the betrayal, the blood on both our hands. For this moment, there was only Gael.
Only the heat that bloomed between us, the hunger that twisted in my gut and spread like wildfire through my veins.
We finally broke apart, gasping, foreheads still pressed together.
