Page 29 of Marked
“Missed opportunity for a blindside,” Iver sighs, clicking the power button on the remote and tossing it down on the coffee table.
I throw back the rest of my vodka cranberry, nodding in agreement as I swallow. “Totally anticlimactic.Bor-ing.”
“So, were you still thinking of staying?” Iver asks hopefully, glancing toward the window. “I mean, the weather alone is reason to…”
“Yeah,” I reply, leaning forward to set my empty glass on the coffee table.
His face lights up. “Cool. I, uh…” he trails off, raking a hand through his hair. “I don’t want to be presumptuous, so you’ll need to tell me whether you want me to show you the guest rooms or mine.”
A coy smile curves my lips. “Yours.”
“I can do that,” he breathes, the tension draining from his shoulders.
I pick at a loose string on the hem of my t-shirt as an awkward silence descends upon us. It’s silly– we’ve been snuggling up on the couch, making out during every commercial break… but for some reason the idea of going upstairs with him has my stomach in knots, anxiety winding its way around my insides.
Iver raises a fist to his mouth and clears his throat, scrubbing a hand down his face before turning to me. “I’ve got a TV in my room. We could watch a movie in bed or something?”
“Iver,” I blurt as I reach over to cup his jaw, staring into his eyes intently. “That’s not what I want to do in your bed.”
There’s a flicker of silver in his blue irises as his wolf surfaces, Adam’s apple bobbing with a thick swallow. He knows what I’m insinuating, and if the sudden flare of heat in his gaze is any indication, he’s on board.Let’s just hope I can keep my demons at bay long enough to actually follow through this time.
Iver pushes up from the couch, turning at the waist and extending a hand to me. I place my palm in his much larger one, allowing him to pull me up to my feet.
“You’re sure?” he asks, giving me a pointed look.
I nod, blushing like crazy.
He tugs on my hand, and I swipe up my overnight bag and follow him to the stairs. My heart pounds harder with every step as he leads me up them, gaze transfixed on the way his back muscles shift beneath the tight fabric of his t-shirt.
Shit, are we really about to do this?
Yes, yes we are. I’ve set my mind on how I want this night to end, and I’m determined to see it through.
Iver leads me down the upstairs hall to the room at the very end, pushing open the door and gesturing for me to enter aheadof him. My wide-eyed gaze combs over every inch of the suite as I step inside, identifying the exits first, then appreciating the impressive size of the space and the nice furnishings. It’s neat and tidy, everything seemingly having its place. The shades of blue that he’s decorated in are also oddly calming.
He steps in and closes the door behind us, taking my overnight bag from me and depositing it on the nearby dresser. Then he comes back over, reaching up to tuck a rogue strand of hair behind my ear.
“So,” he drawls, the brush of his knuckles against my cheek winding my stomach into knots of anticipation.
“So,” I repeat, smiling up at him.
He smiles back, those baby blues practically sparkling.
If I had my camera, I’d snap a picture right now so I could forever preserve that look in his eyes. He’s not looking at me like I’m broken; like I’m some ticking time bomb waiting to explode. He’s not looking at me like I’m defective. He’s looking at me like I’m a gift from fate. Like I’meverything.
That look gives me all the bravery I need. I push up on my toes, adrenaline mingling with nerves as I crush my lips against his. They part with surprise, then press back against mine with equal fervor as he sinks into the kiss, claiming my mouth with his lips and tongue and teeth.
His hands find my own and he turns them over in a silent signal that he’s giving me control, warmth pooling in my belly as I grab on and bring them to my waist. Planting them there, I slide my hands up his chest and loop my arms around his neck, his fingers tightening their grip around my middle as he starts walking me backwards toward his bed.
He’s still kissing the hell out of me when the backs of my calves meet the edge of the mattress. A shiver of anticipation races up my spine as I unwind my arms and press against his chest, breaking our kiss so I can strip off my shirt. Then I grabfor the waistband of his jeans, tugging him in close again and sealing my lips to his.
As anxious as I am, everything about Iver calms me.
The controlled precision of his movements.
The way he lets me take the lead.
I trust him enough to let go, and miraculously, alarm bells don’t sound in my head when his lips leave mine to trail down my neck, nor when he slides a hand up the curve of my spine. With a single deft movement of his fingers, he unclasps my bra, his lips trailing down to my breast as it slips from my shoulders and falls away. I gasp when his warm mouth seals over my nipple, burying a hand in his hair as his tongue swirls around the hardened tip.
