Page 56 of Dead Love
“I was hoping you would,” I said.
Next, I dipped the spoon into a container, taking out some plain yogurt. When she licked it off, she moaned in pleasure, and my cock twitched against my thigh. I grit my teeth. What was with this woman? It was yogurt. Nothing special.
“That’s so good,” she said. “What brand?”
“No brand.”
“What do you mean?”
“I made it myself.”
“Now you’re messing with me.”
I stared at those lips, then dipped my finger in the yogurt and dragged it across her bottom lip, entranced as her tongue licked the white substance up. I couldn’t think straight. I wanted to do something for her. A gift that would be completely hers. Something that would make her more at home here. Even if it wasn’t much—even if it would never be enough, the only thing I could, right then, was try.
“You seriously make your own yogurt?” Her voice was silk against my ears.
“Why wouldn’t I?”
She shrank down, and that made my heart pound. “Because, well—”
I pressed my mouth to hers, grabbing her face in my hands, squeezing her tight. At first, her body tensed, then she relaxed, melting into my touch. My tongue searched for hers, vying for her attention, and finally, she pressed her tongue against mine. It was a devastating kiss, driven by impulse and need for what I knew would never be mine. Kora was the light of this world, and I was trapped in the darkness, where dim flames lit the night and left ash on our skin. And that’s where I would always stay.
But for that small moment, with her lips against mine, she sucked in my shadows, and I breathed out her glow.
CHAPTER19
Kora
His lips were brutal,claiming me, making me shake. His fingers twisted into my hair, embracing me, and the sash fell down from my eyes, and I studied him. The laugh lines around his face. His weathered skin. The scars reaching up around his neck. The stubble on his chin and cheeks. His black eyes. Vincent was kissing me like he worshipped me, like he wanted to possess me to my very core.
When he broke the kiss, his gaze was glossy, seeing deeper than he meant to. He blinked, and I shied away, wrapping my arms around myself.
“I have something I need to do,” he said, breathless. He straightened, then held out a hand.
I took his grip, but as soon as we stood, I let go of it. We were heading back to the basement, and I hated that he was leaving me again. Outside of the door, he grabbed my shoulders, bringing me closer to him, and he kissed my forehead, the bristles on his chin and upper lip rubbing against my skin.
“I’ll be back soon,” he said.
“Promise?” I asked. He nodded, then locked the door behind me.
Once I went to the bottom floor, my heart sank. I missed my mother. I missed my father. I missed Poppies & Wheat. And while I would never see Nyla again, I knew I wanted to see my parents. One day.
And I knew that there was an unexplainable urge inside of me to stay here, with Vincent.
Hours passed. I tried sleeping, but I was restless, so I roamed that bottom floor endlessly. When Vincent finally entered the room, his face was cast in that same hopeful stare as before, but he looked as if he had showered and groomed his facial hair, the scent of pine and wood clinging to his skin.
He held out a hand, then smiled. It was the first time I had ever seen him smile when he wasn’t mocking me. I blushed, the heat rippling through my body, then let him lead me upstairs, down the hallway, to one of the rooms that I had never been inside of before. He put the key in the doorknob, unlocking it, then turned to me.
“I’m going to cover your eyes,” he said. “You’ll open the door when you’re ready.”
Ready for what? “Okay,” I said.
“You trust me?”
His eyes were open and yearning, as if his entire world was me. What could I say? He had done so many horrible things to me, and yet I had this feeling that I knew who he truly was.
I nodded. That smile burst across his face again, and I swear I could have melted right there. His warm hands covered my eyes and I sucked in a deep breath, waiting.
