Mara slides off the counter, unsteady on her feet, and Dredyn finally takes a half step back to let her stand, though he keeps one arm loosely around her, as if staking a claim. Mara hastily smooths her skirt down with trembling hands, her gaze darting between Dredyn and me in wide-eyed panic.
I can’t tear my eyes away from Dredyn’s arm around her waist, his fingers splayed possessively on her hip. A red haze edges into my vision.“Get your hands off her,”I sign.
Dredyn chuckles under his breath and finally releases Mara, though not without trailing his fingertips slowly across her lower back as he steps away. She shudders at the contact, eyes fluttering, and it guts me all over again.
He pauses when we’re shoulder to shoulder, leaning in to whisper so only I can hear, “She’s ours, you know. Stop pretending you don’t want in.”
White-hot fury explodes behind my eyes. I shove him hard in the chest, sending him stumbling back a step. The urge to follow through and knock him flat pulses in my clenched fist. But the asshole just laughs, throwing his hands up again like this is all a big joke. He flicks a glance at Mara, then back at me, and gives a cocky wink.
“See you upstairs,” he tosses over his shoulder to her, utterly unfazed. Then he saunters out of the kitchen, leaving a ringing silence in his wake.
The door swings shut behind Dredyn, the echo of it lingering. Mara and I are left staring at each other across the kitchen, and the only sound is our heavy, uneven breathing. She stands there trembling, her back pressed to the counter. One of her hands flutters to her wrinkled skirt, as if smoothing it down could erase what I just saw.
“I—It wasn’t—” she begins in a small, broken voice, her gaze skittering to the floor. “He just… I don’t know what?—”
“Stop.”
Mara flinches and finally meets my eyes. Hers are shiny, wide with tears she’s trying desperately not to blink free.
I stoop and grab the discarded gift bag off the floor. The book inside has spilled halfway out, its antique cover peeks through the tissue paper. I shove it back into the bag, then I stride forward and slam the whole thing down on the kitchen table beside us. The glass salt shaker jumps with the force.
Mara startles, a tear escaping down her cheek. She looks from the bag up to me, confusion cutting through her shame. “Jasper… what?—”
“That test today? I passed.”I thump my fist against my chest, then point at her, signingpassin a frantic motion.“Because of you. Every right answer on that exam was something you taught me.”
I drag my fingers through my hair, clutching at the roots. The floodgates are open and I can’t hold anything back.
“I wanted to celebrate with you, Mara. And instead I walk in on?—”
Mara finally moves, stepping forward unsteadily. “Jasper,” she whispers, my name shaking on her lips.
In one stride, I’m on her.
My hand fists in her hair, yanking her head back so hard her gasp turns into a whimper that goes straight to my cock. I crush my mouth to hers—no gentle first kiss bullshit. This is weeks of watching her come undone for them, weeks of pretending I didn’t want to be the one wrecking her, exploding out of me.
She freezes for half a heartbeat, palms flat on my chest like she’s going to push me away. Then she melts, fingers twisting in my shirt, dragging me closer, kissing me back like she’s starving. A broken moan vibrates against my tongue and I swear I get harder than I’ve ever been in my life.
A low growl rumbles in my chest as I wrap my arm around her waist and yank her flush against my body. Her soft curves mold to me as I angle my head and deepen the kiss, my tongue sliding against hers, and Mara answers with a hungry, trembling fervor that sets my blood on fire.
Her back hits the edge of the table, and I use it to pin her there, trapping her snugly between the wood and my hips.
Mara only breaks away from my lips to drag in a desperate breath, and I take the chance to latch onto her jaw and neck, tasting the tears that have slipped down to her throat.
By the time I manage to pull back, we’re both shaking. Mara’s eyes stay closed, her swollen lips parted as she catches her breath. Her hands are still fisted in my shirt, and I cover them with mine, not ready to let go.
I brush a stray tear from her cheek with my thumb.“Mine too, Kitten.”I feel her inhale sharply, her fingers tightening in my shirt. With our foreheads touching, I sign the words again across her shoulder so there’s no mistaking.“Mine. Too.” Because thoughmy voice is weak, my hands have always been louder. Mara’s eyes flutter open at that, big and glassy, locking onto mine.
For a moment, neither of us moves. Her cheeks are flushed, her lips red and kiss-bruised, and she is devastatingly beautiful
I release her and step back, my heart screaming at me to pull her close again. But I refuse to beg. I won’t stand here and watch indecision and regret cloud those beautiful eyes.
She reaches for me, but I sidestep her, grabbing the crumpled gift bag from the table to keep my hands busy. I swallow hard and reach in, pulling out the leather-bound book. Mara stands frozen, tears slipping down her face as she watches.
I take her hand—the one she’d been tentatively reaching toward me—and turn it palm up. Carefully, I set the book in her grasp.
Mara blinks, fresh tears spilling over. She looks down at the book in her hand, really seeing it for the first time. Recognition dawns in her eyes. “Oh my god. Jasper, this is… is this the?—”
I step closer, forcing her chin up so she can’t look anywhere but at me. My thumb drags roughly across her damp cheek, smearing the tear.
