A laugh trembles out of me, soft and incredulous. “You bring out the best in me, Nyxx Night.”
He grins at that, small and real, and it’s ridiculous how proud I feel of making him smile.
We wade to shore, fingers laced, water streaming off our bodies in silver threads. My heart’s hammering—not from the cold, but from the terrifying, exhilarating sense that I’m doing something right for once. Not perfect. Not planned. Justright.
On the bank, he uses his tee to dry me as much as it can, then pulls me in until my chest meets his. His lips find mine again—no hesitation this time, no carefulness. Just warmth and promise and that electric hum that’s been building since the day we met.
The world narrows to the press of his mouth and the rhythm of our hearts syncing up. For the first time in a long time, I’m not overthinking. I’m justhere.
And as the night folds around us, I know with bone-deep certainty: this isn’t reckless. This is trust. This is freedom. This is the start of something real.
Chapter Sixteen
Anastasia
Thrilling. Daring. Me—Anastasia Ashcroft—sprinting naked through the woods in nothing but sneakers, clutching my clothes, guided by silver threads of moonlight.
Nyxx is laughing; I’m giggling like a maniac. If the cottage doesn’t appear soon, I’ll tackle him right here on the path.
Finally, with our place now in sight, Nyxx slows, pulling me to a stop as he looks at me, his expression so serious I wonder what changed from one moment to the next.
“Before we get carried away… first time?”
“No, just… not lately.”
His grin softens the moment. “Had to ask.”
When he adds, “Birth control?” it should kill the mood, but it doesn’t. That the rock and roll bad boy is the one keeping a clear head makes something warm and heavy bloom in my chest.
“I’m safe,” I tell him. “And you?”
“Germ-free, princess.” The wink that follows is pure sin.
With that, he picks me up and carries me the last few feet to the porch. By the time he strides up the three wooden steps, our mood-killing negotiations are behind us. Now I’m entranced by his shoulder muscles bunching beneath my fingers, the masculine scent of him in my nostrils, and his still-moist body pressed against mine.
Instead of barging inside and going directly to the bedroom, he sets me down, back to the door, and cages me, palms against the wood, bracketing my head.
“You have no idea what you do to me.” His tongue traces the tendon of my neck, a slow lick that ends with a sharp nip. I shiver so hard it makes him chuckle.
“Tell me if you want me to stop.”
“Don’t you dare.”
After licking the seam of my lips, slowly, from one edge to the other, he pulls back to murmur, “I’m going to make love to you, Ana. I’m going to lick you everywhere.”
He punctuates that with a deliberate, lingering trail with the tip of his tongue up the tendon of my neck, ending with a nip to my earlobe. Goosebumps sizzle from the point of contact, causing a shiver violent enough to make me toss my head.
“I’m going to scent you.”
He nuzzles his nose behind my ear and breathes in deeply, then exhales with an “Ahhh,” that sounds as though he’s struck gold and won the lottery on the same day.
“I’m going to memorize every hill.”
His cupped hand slides along the swell of my hip, making me wish he’d delve a few inches over, between my thighs.
“And valley.”
He traces the indent of my waist as I silently urge him to get to the good parts. After my midnight run, I’ve pretty much drip-dried, except I’m even damper between my legs.
