“What is it?”
Your future.My teeth scrape over my bottom lip before admitting, “It’s a lunaria bloom and very rare. I’ve heard of them.”
“Now you have one.”
“Now I do.”
He kisses me again, and my entire body ignites. Heat pools between my legs and my nipples harden. Stone sweeps his tongue in my mouth, and it breaks me open.
It’s anybody’s guess what happens when the truth comes out. But for tonight, I needed to believe it. To say yes, even if my head knows better. I needed this dream. Just once.
When we part, he brushes kisses along my jaw, murmuring between each one as he says, “Do you think Natalie will mind spending the night here?”
“With a unicorn in the backyard? I’m sure it’s her worst nightmare.”
Stone huffs a breath that caresses the shell of my ear. “That was a stupid question. You’re right.”
I draw back, studying him. “Why do you ask?”
“Tonight I want you all to myself.”
This is the perfect time to stop him. But I’m done, tired of focusing on the lie instead of living in what’s real. By tomorrow, this might all be over, but for one night, I want to pretend that it’s real—before the glass ceiling shatters.
Chapter 38
Coco
Cristina’s one step ahead of us, having already tucked Natalie into the bed that Pane and Rowe have designated for her. My friend doesn’t give me a hard time. Maybe she thinks it’ll all be over soon, anyway, so it’s okay to let me have one night with him.
We promise to pick Natalie up first thing in the morning, and head to Stone’s SUV.
He holds my hand the whole way to the vehicle and takes it again once he’s behind the wheel. He doesn’t let go until we’re back at the cottage. As we walk to the door, he hugs me into his side, and it feels like his body was made for mine, that I fill the hills and planes of him as we walk in step.
As soon as we’re inside, he turns me to him and whispers my name. Then he kisses me gently, and I melt.
We walk in pools of moonlight, heading to my room. Clothes fall aside with each step, and though nothing about this feels hurried, it also doesn’t feel like taking our time is the right way to go about things, either.
It’s like we both know we’re sitting in the middle of a minefield—every step is precious, every moment must be cherished, that we’re existing on borrowed time.
At least, that’s howIfeel.
Stone lifts me like I weigh nothing, one arm under my thighs, the other cradling my back. He carries me into the bedroom, eyes never leaving mine, and gently sets me on the bed like I’m precious, breakable. Like this isn’t just desire—it’s something sacred.
I reach for him, but he catches my wrists, pinning them lightly to the bed above my head. His mouth brushes the pulse point under my neck, and my bones liquefy.
He paints kisses over the tops of my shoulders, down my neck, to the swell of my breasts, sucking on my nipples and lighting my core on fire.
Pressure pools in my groin, and I want to feel him, explore him. I whisper his name, pleading with him, begging for release, and he covers my mouth with another kiss and whispers, “I’ve been waiting a long time for this. I’m taking my time.”
And he does, tasting every part of me, cupping me with his hands, exploring every inch until he’s satisfied that he’s learned me, memorized me.
He kisses me again and I wrap my legs around his waist. “Not yet,” he murmurs.
“No fair. You play dirty.”
He chuckles as he moves down to my breasts, taking one nipple in his teeth while he rolls the other between his fingers.
My back arches, a moan escaping me. He growls low in his throat like the sound fuels him.
