“Want me tostop?”
His eyes flew open, and he barked a laugh that was not a laugh at all considering how tense his lips were. “What I want is for you to come before I cream mypants.”
I blushed. “Oh.”
He shook his head, seemingly surprised the girl who’d come up with the idea of dry-humping could go red in the face. Or maybe, I was tossing my insecurities out on him, and he wasn’t surprised in theleast.
As his hips danced against mine, his mouth slid down the length of my throat, nipping and suckling every piece of exposed skin. Heady sensations whirled deep inside my belly, racing like thunder on scorching summer nights, popping like lightning, threatening to drown ourworld.
Thighs trembling, I closed my eyes and rocked, and the power of that single, slow stroke rent me in half, smiting Jarod’s name out of my lungs, liquefying my bones, singeing my flesh. A choked curse spewed from Jarod and echoed against the walls that had seen him grow from an innocent child into a man who was a lot of things, but notinnocent.
But who truly was? Not Eve who’d spent her life pushing me down. Not Asher who’d ranked a man unjustly. Not Celeste with her sharp tongue and sharper wit. Not Tristan who’d removed fingernails from a man. And notme.
Notanymore.
As Jarod’s wet heat absorbed into my underwear’s lace, filling the air with a sultry, musky scent, I realized I hadn’t lost a feather. For all their rules and dictates, pleasure wasn’t heresy to my kind. I wasn’t sure whether to feel outraged that I’d been spoon-fed lies or grateful that it wasn’t asin.
“You might destroy my soul after all,” Jarod said slowly, lazily strumming the base of my spine with hisfingers.
I smoothed back his wild hair. “Your soul is safe, Jarod Adler, but I won’t make the same promise about yourpants.”
He tossed his head back, and the dark, radiant waves of his laughter lapped at my heart, all at once dashing it to pieces and solidifying eachbeat.
Chapter 39
The dividebetween wrong and right frayed further that night. After stopping by his bedroom for a shower, Jarod returned wearing his black robe over a pair of black briefs molded to his body. He locked the door, then tossed the robe onto a valetstand.
The soft glow of the bathroom light edged the solid span of his shoulders, the muscles swelling his long thighs, and the dark curls of chest hair that became a mere scattering over the ridges in his abdomen before thickening again below his navel. The man was a masterpiece of flesh and muscle, tortured andtorturous.
He watched me looking at him but didn’t make light of it, didn’t ask if I liked what I saw. There was probably no doubt in his mind that I found him—allof him—to myliking.
“Would you rather I don’t sleep here tonight,Feather?”
His question jolted my gaze off the sharp dents in his narrow waist. “It’s yourhouse.”
He smiled. “Might be my house, but it’s still yourchoice.”
I tugged my bottom lip into my mouth. Was inviting him to lay beside me a good idea or the worst one I’d hadyet?
I lifted the comforter and slid toward the middle of the huge bed. Apparently, I wasn’t done making questionabledecisions.
A vein throbbed in his neck and along one of his arms. I watched his skin palpitate as he approached the bed. I still couldn’t believe he’d grown up sleeping in a king-sized bed, then again, he’d grown up like royalty, and princes didn’t sleep in bunkbeds.
When his thumbs hooked into the elastic band of his briefs, I freed my lip. “Please keep iton.”
I neither trusted him nor myself. Now that I’d dipped a toe into the forbidden lake, I wanted to submerge my entire body, but my mind and heart weren’t ready for more. Not sosoon.
“I don’t want to use you any more than I already have,” I added, as his body aligned withmine.
He quirked a dark brow. “Useme?”
“I’m angry at angelstonight.”
He stroked the side of my body, raising goose bumps underneath my T-shirt. “I have no objections to being used byyou.”
“It’s not ajoke.”
“Am I laughing?” He wasn’t even smiling. “Leigh”—his voice was low and serious—“do you regrettonight?”
