When I don’t respond, he scoops me into his arms and carries me back. I let him. I don’t fight as he takes me to my room, sits down in front of the fire with me on his lap, and goes silent—allowing me to cry until there is nothing left.
I don’t know how long we sit like that. He holds me until I still, until the thoughts plaguing me recede, replaced by a peaceful silence. His hand smooths over my back, each sweep softening the shards of glass threatening to poke through my chest. I relax into him, letting the soft steady beat of his heart ground me.
When I pull back, our cheeks brush. Both of us are soaked to the skin, but his body is warm. He’s so solid, so safe. I know I should move away.
But I can’t. Our noses touch, and his cool scent hits me as I inhale, heady.
Something in the air shifts.
“Tell me what you want,” he whispers. My stomach goes taut at the sound of his ragged breaths.
“I want you.”
His eyes fall to my mouth. “Be more specific.”
“Kiss me.” ?*
With excruciating slowness, he leans in and brushes his lips against mine. It’s tentative and sweet. Heartbreakingly careful.
He pulls back for a moment.
It’s not enough.
I surge forward as Zadyn’s hand knots in my hair, fisting it until a small gasp slips out. He seizes my open mouth, molding his lips around mine until no space exists between us.
No more pretense, no more dancing around it. He claims me, and every thought eddies from my mind.
Cradling the back of my head, he lowers me to the carpet beside the crackling fire. My hands weave through his wet hair, the strands like silk between my fingers. His palm traces up the curve of my waist, curling around my neck and sending my pulse into a sprint.
Our tongues tangle as I open deeper for him. His breathy moan spears through me, sending a shock of heat down between my legs. My body becomes a live wire, every hair standing on end, every part of me clenching, tightening, thirsting for him. It’s only when I break away from his mouth, gasping, that I remember I need to breathe.
He doesn’t falter, sweeping soft, languid kisses down my neck and chest. His fingers hook around my shirt, tugging it down until his lips brush over my heart. There’s reverence in it—a silent vow that it will always be safe with him. That he will always protect it.
Gripping his hair, I pull his mouth back up to mine. A tiny whimper slips out as I bow off the floor, curling my leg against his hip, needing more. My lips and cheeks burn, as if the blood inside me is just as desperatefor him as I am.
I yank his shirt up and press my palm against the taut, fevered skin of his chest, skimming over toned muscle and contoured abs. He shivers when I latch onto his waistband, his hand going to my breast, his teeth tugging at my bottom lip as he groans into my mouth.
It’sZadyn.
Zadyn’s hands are roaming my body in the most tender, intimate way. I would giggle if my mouth wasn’t already happily occupied.
“I want you so bad.” It doesn’t even occur to me that I’ve said it out loud until he pulls back abruptly. “Zadyn?”
“I can’t do this.”
Embarrassment burns through me, stinging my cheeks.
“Did I do something wrong?”
“No.” He sits up, turning his back to me, and runs his hands through his tawny hair. “I can’t do this when I know you still love him.”
Jace? I shake my head.
“He’s engaged.”
“What does it matter?”
“He’s getting married. I’ve let go of the idea of us. It’s over.”
