She tore open his shirt. Lalo’s eyes widened in surprise.
“Was that too much?” she asked.
He chuckled. “Nothing you do to me will ever be too much.”
The husky tenor in his voice drove her mad. Before she realized what she was doing, her fingers splayed over his warm chest and down to his abdomen.
He sucked in a breath.
“Is this okay?” she whispered.
He nodded.
She brought her hands farther downward. Her calluses scraped over every hard muscle.
“And this?”
He grasped her wrist, stopping her before she went too far. “What are you doing?” he panted.
“We are about to embark on a journey neither of us may come back from. I don’t want to leave this realm not knowing what it feels like to be touched by the person I desire.”
“And that person is me?”
She giggled. “I don’t see anyone else here.”
“What about precautions?” he asked.
“I have been taking herbs since I first started my monthlies.”
He brushed a lock of hair from her face and gazed upon her. The way he studied her in that moment made her feel as if she were the most beautiful person alive.
“If I didn’t know better, I would think this all a dream,” he whispered.
Carolina nearly melted at his sweetness.
Slowly, Lalo bent down and kissed her. Their tongues met. Groaning, he wrapped his arms around her bottom and lifted her up. She squeaked into his mouth. Then she giggled as he gently laid her on the grass.
Carolina wrapped her legs around his torso and drew his body onto hers. The sensation of him so near rocked her entire body. Their kiss deepened and her need for Lalo unfurled into something that could no longer be contained. Slowly, softly, quietly, they became one. Carolina couldn’t tell if her world was ending or just beginning, but she knew at that moment, she would never be the same.
Few explorers have ever returned from the small mountain range of Basilio’s Point. Fewer still from its southernmost peak, Devil’s Spine. Locals believe the harsh landscape to be cursed by angry deities. The reason for the supposed curse is unknown.
Juarez. I. (1766)Compendium(Volume 3, p. 501)
CHAPTER 43
Lalo
He kept stealing glances atCarolina, who was busy inspecting the horses. With her blood coursing through his veins, Lalo’s senses were heightened to their full ability. He had smelled the geldings trapped in brambles from a distance.
Carolina had been ecstatic to find them because she’d strapped a satchel containing supplies over the larger horse’s neck, but now her expression was serious. His heart twisted in his chest. He could hardly believe the last hour they’d shared together. They’d fought like hell to survive and after, for the first time perhaps ever, Lalo felt like he had truly lived. But now they were heading toward his ultimate demise.
Did she know he probably wasn’t going to survive this night? What if she’d only been with him for pity’s sake? No. He would not tarnish his first and possibly last time with such a thought.
He dragged his attention back to his task, which was to readover the papers she’d taken from her grandfather’s room and stuffed into the satchel and make certain the path they were going was the one that would lead them to Vidal.
But his mind kept slipping back to her. His body still buzzed from drinking her blood. She tasted how he imagined fire would. Her life force burned as brilliant as any flame. But it was not something to be contained in a hearth. Carolina was a wildfire. One could only sit back and watch her burn.
And every part of Lalo’s undead heart burned for her.
