“I want you, Anastasia,” he murmurs. “I love and I hate, and I love arguing with you. It’s very new. I need to know that we’re okay. It’s the only way I know how.” “My feelings for you haven’t changed,” I whisper. His proximity is overwhelming, exhilarating. The familiar pull is there, all my synapses goading me toward him, my inner goddess at her most libidinous. Staring at the patch of hair in the V of his shirt, I bite my lip, helpless, driven by desire—I want to taste him there. He’s so close, but he doesn’t touch me. His heat is warming my skin. “I’m not going to touch you until you say yes,” he says softly. “But right now, after a really shitty morning, I want to bury myself in you and just forget everything but us.”
“I know,” Aren says. “But I wanted to apologize. I don’t want Taltrayn to convince you I’m the bad guy.”At that, I give a short laugh. “You are the bad guy, Aren.”He frowns, and I realize he’s taking my words the wrong way.“What I mean is you’re the . . . well, the rebel. Kyol’s the good guy. He’s made mistakes, yes, but he loves me.”He cocks his head to the side. His gaze makes my skin tingle. The step he takes toward me is hesitant, careful, and when his silver eyes peer down at me, I stop breathing. His lips are so close. I remember the way they felt pressed against mine. I remember his taste, the heat of his edarratae.The smallest distance separates us when he whispers, “You don’t think I’m in love with you?”“I . . .”
“And then I can feel what he feels. He’s waited such a long time for this moment. He loves how I feel in his arms. He loves the smell of my hair. He loves the way I looked at him just now, flushed and wanting more from him. He loves the color of my lips and now the taste of my mouth is making his knees feel weak and he doesn’t want to seem weak in front of me.”
“I want so many things,” he whispers. “I want your mind. Your strength. I want to be worth your time.” His fingers graze the hem of my top and he says “I want this up.” He tugs on the waist of my pants and says “I want these down.” He touches the tips of his fingers to the sides of my body and says, “I want to feel your skin on fire. I want to feel your heart racing next to mine and I want to know it’s racing because of me, because you want me. Because you never,” he says, he breathes, “never want me to stop. I want every second. Every inch of you. I want all of it.”
“This is where you belong, Calla.” He pulled me closer, tilting my chin up. “Be with me. Tell me it’s what you want.”I couldn’t tear my eyes from his. “What I want?”“Yes. Anything, everything you need, I’ll give you. Always. I promise. Just tell me one thing.”“What?”“That you want this, us.” His voice dropped so low I could barely hear him. “That someday you’ll love me.”My hands began to tremble where they rested around his neck. “Ren, you know we’re going to be together. We’ve both known that for a long time.”He gave me a hard look. “That’s not what I’m talking about.”“Why are you asking me this?” I tried to pull back, but he held me against him.The glimmer of a smile appeared on his lips. “Why not?”My temper flared. “Are you trying to say that you love me?”I meant it as a challenge rather than a serious question, but his eyes seemed to catch fire.“What do you think?” He touched his lips to mine, softly at first, gradually building pressure, parting them.”
“And what do you want right now?" Right now I itch to heal his wounds and forget my own.He touches my cheek with the tips of his fingers.My breath hitches. "Do you want to kiss me, Alex?" I whisper."Dios mio, I want to kiss you ... to taste your lips, your tongue." He gently traces my lips withthe tips of his fingers. "Do you want me to kiss you? Nobody else would know but the two of us.”