“No—godsdamn it, Mara. It’s because everything about you makes me want to be better than I am.” He cupped my face in his hands, then shifted to his knees and drew me up along with him. “You make me want to work harder, fight harder, love harder than I ever have before. You’re so full of goodness that you lift up everyone around you simply by existing.”
“It’s too dangerous.”
“What is? Love?”
I nodded miserably into the cradle of his hands, working so hard to stifle my rising sadness that my whole body ached.
“Isn’t it fitting, then,” he said gently, “in this world of horrors, to push back against all that danger with some of our own?”
That strange, perfect logic was my undoing. I leaned into him and pressed my forehead against his. His skin was so warm and smooth that I could barely resist nuzzling him.
“I can’t lose anything else,” I whispered.
“And I can’t promise you won’t lose me to something neither of us can control,” he said back to me, his voice quiet and grave, only a slighttremble belying his outward calm. “But what I can promise you is that however many days are left to me, I will love you for all of them.”
For a moment, all I could do was look at him—his eyes, so close to mine, green and fierce and earnest; the lone blond curl kissing the corner of his glasses. Just outside the door, the snowstorm raged on, and any day—tomorrow, next week, next year—could bring the end. For us, for everyone. But in this house, the air was warm and quiet, the fire crackled steadily, and we were safe. For at least this night, we were safe, and as I beheld the gorgeous, brilliant, infuriating man before me, the last stubborn barrier inside me gave way.
“Gareth,” I whispered with a little sob, and then I leaned in and kissed him—softly, inelegantly, trying and failing to gather some semblance of composure. Tears rolled silently down my cheeks and onto his fingers, and after a moment I had to pull back from him and catch my breath.
As I rested my head against his shoulder, he stroked my hair in its messy bun, tenderly smoothing back the loose, tangled strands. He kissed the skin behind my ear, then worked his way down my neck—softly, carefully—until I’d fully melted into his embrace. He cupped the back of my head with one hand and held my waist with the other, and I leaned back and let him explore.
His kisses were long and slow, luxurious, unhurried, so light and sweet against my skin that each new caress left me more desperate for the next one. He kissed the hollow of my throat, his breath hot against my collarbone. He brushed his lips against my cheeks and the corners of my mouth, then gently pulled my lower lip between his teeth.
The tender little bite made me cry out softly and raised goose bumps all down my body, which delighted him. He hummed a low, satisfied sound and worked his way down my neck with softer and softer kisses while deftly undoing the ties of my coat. I slid my hands into his hair and wound my fingers through it, holding him to me, andwhen he could go no farther, he said roughly against my skin, “Mara, the idea of unraveling you slowly, taking you apart piece by piece, drives me wild. I’ve dreamt of nothing else for weeks, but…”
I bowed my head over his and murmured into his hair, “But you want me now.”
He pressed a kiss to the exposed skin right above my collar. His hands tightened around me. “Yes,” he said. “Gods, yes.”
The sheer raspingwantin his voice made me shudder in his arms. I closed my eyes, smiling a little, and whispered, “Then have me.”
Suddenly the fire that had been kindling between us blazed eagerly to life. I brought him back to me with a sharp tug of his hair, and he laughed breathlessly against my mouth and kissed me with such hunger that I felt dizzy. When he pulled me to my feet, I swayed a little, which for a moment embarrassed me. I wasn’t used to clumsiness, had barely fumbled even a single step in my entire life.
But then Gareth caught me, and I felt the hard length of him against my thigh, and that was the last time I thought about anything beyond my aching need for him to touch me.
I tugged off my coat and let it fall to the floor. He started unbuttoning his shirt, but he wasn’t fast enough. I helped him, leaning into him, laughing a little against his cheek as he cursed breathlessly, something about the uselessness of buttons. Together we slid off his shirt, and then I dragged my hands down his torso. He shuddered at my touch and took a staggering step back toward the bed. I followed him, tugging his undershirt out of his trousers.
“I don’t know what’s worse,” I said, “buttons or winter layers.”
“It’s all terrible,” he agreed, and then my fingers touched the warm bare skin of his abdomen, and he jerked against my touch and let out a groan that nearly brought me to my knees. Before I lost all control of my shaking legs, I stepped back from him to peel off my trousers, mytights, my socks. Once my legs were completely bare, he sank onto the edge of the bed and pulled me back to him.
“Look at you,” he whispered, his hands on my naked hips. “Look at how exquisite you are.” He pulled me even closer, nuzzled beneath my tunic, nudged up my undershirt, and kissed the trembling skin below my navel. His hands drifted down my legs and then back up, tracing the shape of my rose tattoo. Just when I thought I would scream from impatience, he kissed my stomach once more, his breath shaky against my skin, and gently pushed open my trembling thighs to circle his thumb against the hottest, wettest part of me. I cried out and arched my hips toward him, clutching at his shoulders to hold myself up.
“Gods, you’re…” His voice broke on the words. “You’re perfect. You’re a vision, Mara. You’re more beautiful than the moon.” With each sentence, he pressed a kiss against the crease of my thigh, and then he looked up at me. His lips were swollen from our kisses, his cheeks were flushed, and his hair was already an absolute disaster.
I’d never wanted anything as desperately as I wanted him—more of him, all of him. Again and again.
“I think,” he said slowly, with a little grin, “that you might perhaps be ready for me. Possibly. Though confirming it might take more investigation.”
“You idiot,” I gasped out, bracing myself against him as he slid a finger inside me, then another. “If you don’t have your way with me in the next five seconds—”
“You’ll explode?” He laughed, holding my hips firmly in place as he worked me expertly with his fingers. “Thatisthe general idea, darling.”
He started moving faster, deeper, fisting my tunic in his other hand to pull me even closer. When he found just the right spot inside me, my knees nearly gave out, and my breath hitched around a little sob.
“Gareth,please—”
“Agreed,” he said breathlessly, with a choked little laugh. He roseshakily to his feet, fumbling at his belt as I tugged off my tunic and undershirt, and when he pulled me back toward him and my bare skin finally met his, I nearly lost myself right then and there. I slid my arms around his neck and kissed him, opening my mouth to his tongue. He moved back toward the bed until he hit the mattress, tore off his glasses and tossed them onto his forgotten clothes, then sank down upon the bed and pulled me on top of him.
