“We—”
I shook my head. “Don’t.”
Then my fingers sank into her hair as I pulled her mouth to mineonce again.
I was tentative at first, but my lips quickly grew desperate, giving shape to the madness that had been pulsing inside me for so long. And I could feel that madness inside Penelope, too, calling to my own, a wild, heated battle cry that devoured my mind until all I could think about was tasting her and touching her.
My hands were knotted in her hair now, and hers were cupping my face, our bodies pressed in close, molding so perfectly against each other.
And the world ceased to exist.
It was justher. She was the air, the sky, the ground, the breath in my lungs, the blood in my veins. She was my beginning and my end.
She was everything.
“You will undo me,” Penelope whispered as she pulled away to catch her breath.
She was right. I could feel it, that thick thread of her desire curled around my fingers. A single tug and I could unravel her completely, all that control she so carefully clung to.
I reached up, brushing my fingers along her mouth, memorizing the feel of it.
“Tell me to stop and I will,” I murmured.
She let out a shaky breath, and I felt it warm against my fingertips. Then she smiled, and my fingers traced that perfect curl of her lips.
“I don’t want you to stop.”
I stared at her. “Are you sure?”
Instead of replying, Penelope wrapped her hand around mine and led me to her bedchamber. She shut the door behind us, her movements so poised and controlled, even now. When she turned back to me, I moved instantly, knocking her against the door in my eagerness. She laughed, and I caught that beautiful sound in my mouth, wanting to swallow down every drop of it.
Lemons.Her laugh always reminded me of lemons.
“Do you know how often this has driven me mad?” I murmured,brushing that hollow dip at the base of her throat.
She smiled. “Really?”
I lowered my head, kissing that spot and feeling her pulse jump beneath my lips. “Really.”
“What other parts have driven you mad?” she whispered.
“Here.” I ran my fingers over her lips, then traced the length of her neck. “Here.” They then ventured over her collarbones. “And here.”
“A lot then.” Her laugh was tight in her throat.
“You have no idea.”
“I do. Trust me, I do.”
I stared at her, still struggling to comprehend that this same torturous longing could have been echoing inside her all this time.
“How long?” I breathed.
Penelope’s eyes softened. “Always, Melantho.”
I kissed her again, slower this time, deeper. I felt her lips parting for me, the warmth of her tongue tentatively brushing against my own. I wondered faintly if this were another dream that morning would soon rip away from me.
“Is this real?” The question was a dizzy chuckle.
