Climbing out of bed, she pulled on leggings, a hoodie, and a pair of warm socks, not bothering with shoes. She tiptoed out of her bedroom and climbed the stairs. Murmur’s floor was quiet, the hall torches extinguished. In the distance, faint howling could be heard from god knew where, but otherwise, all was quiet.
She started down the hall toward the library’s double doors at the end, only to stop outside the doors to Murmur’s room. She stared at them.
Choosing to stop things earlier had been a rare moment of clarity. She needed more moments like that, and she sure as hell wasn’t going to find them in Murmur’s bed. The worstthing she could do would be to bring sex with her captor into the already incredibly complicated picture.
So why was she standing there, staring at his closed door? And why was her heart suddenly racing with excitement?
The subtle creaking of his bedroom door opening pulled Murmur out of the mire of his thoughts. He wanted to say he’d been mulling over his many complex plans, double-checking every aspect of his spell, but in reality, he’d been replaying the moments with Suyin in the library. How her body felt under his, the way she’d looked at him with so much desire in her eyes.
As such, he sensed her presence immediately.
He stilled, listening with every fiber of his being. Tiny footsteps padded across the floorboards, and he found himself holding his breath.
She stopped at his side, her form a dark outline in the shadowed room. The window drapes were drawn, and only the faintest hint of red glow escaped around their edges. It wasn’t enough to properly light her features, but he could still see her eyes on him.
He turned his head on the pillow to meet her gaze. He didn’t try to pretend he was asleep.
“You shouldn’t be here,” he said into the dark.
“I know.” She spoke with a resignation that told him she knew exactly what she was getting into. “I couldn’t sleep.”
Neither could he.
He sat up, and with one rapid motion, he wrapped his hands around her waist and flung her down onto the mattress. He rolled over top of her, and the sheet that had been covering his naked body tangled around him in a way that normally would’ve made his skin crawl, but he was too distracted to care. Gripping her wrists, he pinned them down on either side of her head so she wouldn’t try to grab him again.
He’d expected her to let out a cry, for that apprehension to seep into her expression once more, for her to struggle to escape.
But she didn’t do any of that. Instead, she relaxed in his hold. She didn’t pull at her wrists. Her body didn’t squirm with discomfort. She let him pin her down. She gave him control.
They watched each other in the darkness. This close, he could make out her features clearly, those sharp eyes peering up at him with expectation.
“I gave you a chance to leave,” he reminded her. “You took it.”
“I know.”
He arched a brow. “So what do you think you’re doing now?”
She took a breath and seemed to be building up to something. Then she whispered, “I changed my mind.”
Part of him wanted to push her away—she’d had her chance, so why should he give her another? Another part wanted to descend upon her with savage ferocity, to slake the desire that had been building since the first moment he’d touched her.
Still another, twisted part wanted to make her suffer. To punish her for doing this to him, for making him feel this way. He’d never asked for this.
He leaned in, running his mouth lightly over hers. Her head tipped back, and her lips parted. He did it again, and her breath gusted out. He trailed his mouth along her jaw toward her ear, and he felt her tremble beneath the grip he still had on her wrists.
When he reached her ear, he growled softly into it, “I don’t give second chances, Suyin.”
He intended to push off of her and demand she leave. He intended to do anything to maintain the upper hand.
But the witch beat him at his own game. Again.
Before he had a chance to pull away, she turned her head sharply, and their mouths collided. The softness of her lips against his, moistened by her tongue, stole his awareness.
That quickly, he was lost. He forgot all about his plans and his pride, all too eager to forget himself in her.
He kissed her with a desperation that infuriated him, so he poured that into the kiss too. Her tongue reached out, seeking his, and they tangled together. Twisting, stroking, thrusting.
He released her wrists, wanting to touch her. Her hands immediately went into his hair, the strands slipping between her fingers as she clenched her fists against his scalp.
