“You’re fighting it. Holding back. My wild Grim, suddenly so tame. All bark and no bite, huh? How disappointing.” I lean in, my lips brushing his jaw. “What are you waiting for? Because it sure as hell isn’t my permission.”
I run my tongue along the ridge of his ear, which causes a deep, satisfying groan to rumble in the back of his throat. I’m not sure where this sudden confidence comes from, but fuck the boundaries, fuck the shadows, and fuck this man’s self-entitled attitude.
Fuck it all, because the truth is …I want him.
He runs a cool hand up my neck and gathers the hair at the back of my head, pulling slightly to bare my throat.
Ezra runs his tongue up the length of my neck and nips at my earlobe.
My whole body tightens, begging for more. Two years untouched, and now a wet dream with teeth is looking at me like he’s starving.
I want to tear into him.
I want to feel his skin under my nails.
I want to fucking bite his lip until I taste blood.
“I feel the pull, Aurora. It’s unmistakable and unlike anything I’ve felt before.”
Ezra growls, pulling my head back further as he runs feather-light kisses up one side of my neck and down the other.
His mouth drags along my jaw, his breath hot with barely contained restraint.
“You think I’m all bark, do you?”
He growls, then sinks his teeth in just enough to bruise.
I arch into the bite, not away. Fuck trembling.
Let him rend. Let him break skin. If this is how he touches—how he venerates—then let him write his name in blood.
“Careful,mo chailín milis. Keep tempting me, and I’ll leave my mark so deep it’ll scream my name for days.”
A growl builds beneath my ribs, my pulse drowning out every thought that isn’t him. If he thinks he’s the only one who can leave a mark, he’s dead fucking wrong.
I’ll sink my teeth into his shoulder, dig my nails into his back, burrow myself so deep under his skin that he feels me every time he breathes.
“You don’t have to hold back, little vixen. Allow me to indulge your every fantasy. I would fucking worship you. Just say the word,” he says against my lips.
Ezra’s promises make me shiver with delight because I want everything he’s offering.
I trace his lips with my tongue, and he answers by tightening the fist in my hair, tugging just enough to make my scalp burn.
“Vittu, Aurora, you’re everything. The silence and the screams. The wound and the balm. The beginning and the fucking end. You’re what I’ve been waiting for since light first kissed the dark billions of years ago. Tell me what you want.Tell me what you need. I must hear the words.Arjouk…” Ezra’s shadow flickers across the wall while a few tendrils slither toward us, curious and hungry.
Some primal part of me knows this should freak me out.
But I’m too turned on to care.
My quick, shallow breaths hitch in my throat when I realize he’s asking for permission.
Ezra takes what he wants, but he’s holding back, his lips a whisper away from mine, waiting for me.
Why? This morning, he took what he wanted without saying a word.
But the fire scorching through my body quickly consumes that quaint, rational thought.
Ezra’s other hand now rests on my hip. His long, cool fingers creep under the fabric of my sweater to caress my hot skin.
