Page 13 of Light As A Feather
We’ve always been each other’s lifelines, one another’s source of strength. I need to remind her of how much better we are together than apart. But right now, I don’t have it in me to give her the romantic speech I’ve been reciting in my mind for the moment we reunited. This isn’t at all how I expected things to happen, and yet, with her body pressed against mine, that doesn’t matter at all. What matters is that she’shere. In my arms. In our house.Where she belongs.
Kissing her with more fervor, I lower myself so I’m kneeling between her legs that naturally widen for me as I wrap my arms around her generous waist and hold her against me.
“Fuck, you smell amazing.”Like life, like hope.“You have no idea how much I’ve needed this, needed you.”
“Don’t, please.” It’s the closest thing to begging I’ve ever heard from her. I hate it and love it in equal measure. “Stop saying things like that.”
“Like what?” I kiss along her jaw, working my way up to her ear. “Like there hasn’t been a single second that’s passed that I haven’t been fully, sickeningly in love with you? Like I’ve never imagined my future without you? Like I never accepted a lifetime where you weren’t standing beside me?”
“Please.” The request is strangled. “Don’t make this harder for me than it has to be.”
“I certainly don’t intend to make it easy for you to walk away from me again.” I follow the curve of her neck, then trace the foliage tattooed across her chest, making a mental note to archive every detail later. “I’d prefer that you’re not even able to walk for hours, let alone run away, when I’m done with you.” Slipping my hand between us, I run my finger along the hot, damp seam of her leggings. “You need me too. There’s no hiding it.”
Her breath hitches when I halt my movements, the makings of a whimper sneaking between her grinding teeth.
“Don’t fight it, Sol. Let it happen.” I latch onto that moment of weakness. I’m not above it. “All I want is to fuck you till you pass out in our bed.”
“Hawthorne.” My name is a curse wrapped in a prayer as I add pressure, forcing the fabric to dip into her center.
“Are you going to deny yourself this?” My mouth meets her skin as I kiss along the top of her cleavage that’s presented to me like a gift in her low-cut sweater that drapes over her every curve so beautifully. Another swell of arousal coats the material between her legs. “Just give me tonight. We’ll take it one day at a time.”
“I—” She loses her train of thought when I pointedly drag my knuckle through her center, nudging at her swollen clit. My tongue salivates with the ghost of her taste as I attempt to restrain myself. “Do you not think I want to? But we shouldn’t. We can’t.” It’s nearly a sob.
That’s all the consent I need. She wants this, but she’s allowing her need to be right to stand in the way. That’s fine, I can work with that.
Sliding her hips toward me, I pull her down into the chair and hoist her legs over my shoulders, which puts her in the perfect position to bury my nose between her legs. Inhaling deeply, I breathe in her intoxicating scent.
“What the hell are you doing?” Her thighs tremble against the firm muscle of my shoulder and chest.
“Taking back what’s mine,” I say without hesitation. After a few more seconds, her thighs no longer flex against me with resistance, her hands fall, encircling my neck and resting against my shoulder blades.
“Hawthorne,” she sighs, and I pull away just enough to make eye contact with her. A flare of lust sparkles in her gaze, daringmy mouth to meet hers again. We collide in an explosion of failed restraint and forgotten sense. Everything but the resilient call of our intertwined souls burned away in a singular heated moment.
Nails dig into flesh, desperate to know it’s not just another dream. Teeth nip until blood blossoms on our tongues, proof that our hearts are still beating. I tear down her leggings, pull her to the floor with me, then turn her against the chair, her stomach pressed into the upholstery.
Moving the thin string of her panties to the side, I greedily take one ample cheek in each hand, I spread her, taking in every glorious inch of that beautiful ass framing her perfect pussy. Her still-bound hands grip the back of the chair for stability as my fingers slide between her legs again. There I find her, wanting, begging for me.
“Fuck. Have you been wet since I took your blindfold off?” I hiss through a shuddering breath. “You act like you don’t need me. But I see the truth. I know you’re just as relieved as I am to find my way back to where I belong…inside you.”
“Untie me.” She arches against me, her bare ass grinding against my dick that’s straining in my pants. It earns her a harsh spank that forces her to lurch forward, the legs of the chair screeching against the floor. She groans, but she doesn’t object.
“This is my show, baby. I call the shots. But I guess there’s no risk of you running right now, pinned down and spread like this.” I kiss up the side of her neck and face as I loosen the restraints. Once they’re free, I lean into her, crushing her hips against the chair beneath us. “Don’t try anything or I’ll just have to fuck you until you can’t stand on your own two feet.”
She shakes her head, still stubborn as always, but her body is lax, and I know she’s given herself over to that hazy, heady feeling she loves to escape into when pleasure starts to course through her. I join her there, and we both lose any facade ofcomposure as my tongue sweeps over the fabric of her soaking wet panties—me groaning in victory, her whimpering helplessly.
The sound doesn’t just call to the most neglected parts of me, it summons much more—thirst, hunger, a reckless craving that can only be quelled by her.
Then the rug is swept from beneath our feet, and we come tumbling down from the high. A shadow snuffing out the blaze growing between us.
“What do we have here?” The looming umbra becomes a man—or the spirit of one—as Ivan emerges from the wall before us.
I hate that trick that they do. Some never learn how to slip between physical spaces, some are opposed to the discomfort, while others take to it, lurking and invasive. Of course, Ivan is the last type.
Moving from surprise to action, I tug Sol’s leggings back into place and help her stand. A faint hint of embarrassment paints her cheeks and chest while my anger rises at her discomfort.
“Isn’t this a…sweet reunion?” Ivan sneers as he strolls to the center of the room. He’s no stranger to this home, but the ease with which he takes up space grates on my nerves.
“A sight you should get used to,” I taunt as I meet him in the middle.
