She starts to pull away again, but instantly rolls to face me. My arms settle around her, my palms pressed against the back of her head and her lower back. I pull her tightly against me, her forehead in my neck, her breath against my chest. I inhale deeply as my hand strokes down her ass and along the back of her thigh,pulling her leg up over my hip. A sharp pain in my neck startles me, and that overwhelming urge I have to claim her asminestarts to settle, and then slowly begins to ease.
I relax in stages, and though some of that feral intensity has loosened its grip on me, that wicked heat in my sternum remains. She leans back, her hands suddenly cupping my cheeks, and then I hear her muttering my name and something about dying.
A soft laugh falls from my lips as I press them to her forehead, and then I sink into the nothingness.
ELEVEN
WHAT IS INTENSE SEXUAL ATTRACTION?
Vivian
I killed him.
I’ve been sitting here for what feels like hours, holding his head in my lap, checking his pulse every five minutes. So far, his heart is still beating, and he’s still breathing, though rather shallowly for my taste.
Admittedly, I’m beginning to panic, completely unsure if I should have already gone for help. I don’t have any way to get on the internet, and even if I had my phone, I couldn’t text Camilla because I don’t have her number. I could use Zion’s phone to call emergency services, but I’m relatively certain that if I called an ambulance, I’d be relegated back to the stables lickety-split.
“I told you to leave.” His hoarsely muttered words cut through the silence, and my heart leaps in my chest.
Sitting back, I get a look at his face, but his eyes are closed. I stroke my hand over his forehead, my fingers spearing into his hair and forcing his head back so I can see his whole face. His eyes squeeze shut, and his lips twitch, so I lean down and lick the tip of his nose. He flinches automatically, and I release my holdon him as his hand comes up and wipes my saliva away. “Ew. What the hell?”
“Serves you right for feigning sleep while I’ve been worried sick.”
He opens one eye, peering at me as he responds, “You were worried?”
I smack his arm and confess, “Yes, I was freaking worried. For a while there, I thought I’d killed you.”
“I’m a little tired, but otherwise fine.”
“Care to tell me why you keep prefilled tranq syringes in your bedside table?”
Making a face, he shrugs, and I wait a few moments before sighing heavily. Because frankly, I probably don’t want to know, so I change the subject. “Care to tell me what that was all about then?”
He’s quiet for a moment, and I glance down to see him staring vacantly into the distance. I shift my legs around, jostling him until he sighs heavily. “It’s difficult to explain.”
“Try, Zion,” I retort sternly. “You were one step away from losing it and doing god only knows what to me, so I think I’m warranted some semblance of an explanation.”
Again, he sighs. “I know, I know. I’m trying to figure it out well enough to explain without coming off as a complete crazy person.”
“Given the evolution of our very short history together,” I reply blandly, “not coming off as crazy is basically impossible. So you may as well just spit it out.”
“I don’t even know you,” he says softly, his eyes on mine, yearning and desperate. “But I want you.”
Raising my brows, I give him a rather smug smile. “I mean, you’re not the first man to lust after me, buddy. I’m not half bad to look at, you know.”
He frowns, shakes his head. “It’s not freaking lust, Vivian. It’s something,” he pauses, his eyes searching mine before adding, “else.”
Frowning, I look away, unease and warmth settling over me at his words. It’s not that I don’t have a good idea of what he means, but that doesn’t mean I’m ready to confess anything. If anything, his words make me want to spew outright denial, regardless of how I feel. “Is that so?”
Zion quirks a brow at my words. “Yes. It’s as if the more time I spend around you, the more I’m inexplicably drawn to you, and the more I’m drawn to you, the harder it is for me to refuse the call.”
Swallowing the lump in my throat, I ask, “And it was like this from the beginning?”
“No. At first, it was just a feeling, like a tremor in the universe.”
I snort. “I can’t decide if that description is theatrical or actually romantic.”
“Laugh all you want, but it’s only been a day, and whatever fuckery is upon us has already managed to mess me up completely.”
