His hand comes up to cup my jaw. His thumb grazes my cheek, and his breath ghosts over my lips.
“You shouldn’t say things like that to me,” he murmurs. “I’m tired. I’m weak. And you’re too tantalizing to resist.”
“Maybe that’s a good thing,” I whisper. “I wouldn’t want to regret anything.”
His eyelids flutter once. Just like before, he understands me again.
When this is all over. When I fulfill Death’s quest. When his mission ends for one of a hundred possible reasons…
If there’s any shred of consciousness left in me then, I’ll be thinking about him. Him—and Talon, and Cassian. But with the other two, at least I made memories. I filled my cup, and there will be plenty to draw from.
But with him…
We’ve been honest with each other only a handful of times.
And because he understands me—and I think he shares my fear—he lets go of his restraint.
He grabs me by the waist and spins me, pressing me hard against the motel railing. Cold metal bites into my back. His mouth crashes into mine.
His kiss is messy, consuming, teeth dragging over my bottom lip until I gasp. He swallows the sound like it’s oxygen.
“There will be nothing to regret, Skye,” he breathes against my mouth. “I told you I’m a bad man.”
My head hits the railing with a soft thud as he kisses down my neck, biting, sucking, dragging his mouth along my skin.
My legs are already weak. Already opening.
He groans, and lifts my thigh, hooking it around his hip so he can grind against me. I feel him instantly.
Hard.
Thick.
Pressed right against my pussy.
“Do you understand?” he asks, breathless.
I do. Of course I do. He’s bad. So there should be no reason to miss him.
But there will be. I know there will be.
My heart cracks at the thought.
So I do what I can. I change the subject. I focus on the way our bodies fit together, on how hard he is against me, on how he’ll be inside me soon.
“Talon’s and Cassian’s cum is still inside me,” I say. “They told me to keep it in for the ride.”
His breath stops.
His fingers tighten on my waist.
It does exactly what I want it to do. It throws him off his line of thought.
“Savages,” he mutters. “That can mess up your pH.”
“My… what?”
“Never mind. I’ll take care of it later.”
