I’m acutely aware of her anger, so why am I glad to be here?
After a long silence, Celine freezes.
I know the exact moment she realizes how strange her actions are because her spine locks, one bump at a time, before she turns her head and looks at me over her shoulder. Liquid clings to her lashes, and her lips are pouty and downturned. Her posture screams closed off, but her face... gods, her faceis painfully vulnerable.
I would tear the world to pieces for her if she asked.
A low, rough sound escapes my throat. “Don’t,” I demand, the word wholly insufficient for everything I need to communicate. Don’t what? Don’t move. Don’t leave. Don’t give up on me. I’m lost, with no idea what to do.
It’s exhilarating.
I raise my hand slowly—it’s as amber andotheras the rest of me—and give her plenty of time to knock it away, snap my neck, or do any damn thing she desires.
Celine doesn’t move an inch, and before I can convince myself it’s a bad idea, my fingers graze her cheek. Her skin is petal soft. It feels fragile, but that’s a lie, because no one is tougher than the angel in front of me.
A bead of water rolls from her hairline, stopping where my hand meets her cheek.
It sits there, trapped, unable to fall or get between us.
I watch it with wonder, questioning what I’ve done to deserve this.
My shirt slips from her fingers and falls to the damp tile, forgotten.
I breathe her name. Her pupils expand, pools of inky darkness devouring the warm brown of her eyes. I slide my thumb to the corner of her mouth, carefully transferring the bead of water from her cheek to her lips.
The tip of her tongue darts out, then the drop is gone.
My skin is too tight. The tension between us too thick. I’m scared to break it, but I can barely breathe when Celine looks at me like this.
“I’m only going to ask you this once,” Celine says, her voice transforming each boring word into a raspy promise. “Do you want me, Riven?”
My face glitches, and a wave of self-loathing follows closely in its wake.
I’m standing in front of her, bare to the waist,and terrified. Celine acts as if she sees me, but how can she when I’ve never even seen myself?
“Darling,” I beg her for mercy.
She sucks my thumb into her mouth instead.
The hot rasp of her tongue is dangerous. It’s a bridge toward more. The more I want above anything else. The more that keeps me up at night imagining all the things I could do to her.
More might kill me, because once I’ve had it, how can I survive with less?
Celine’s teeth score my thumb before she releases it with a gentle lick. “It’s a simple question, Riven.”
I shake my head. Nothing about her is simple. Surely, she knows that. Every second that she stares at me with want in her eyes, my control slips another inch. If I let go now, will I ever get it back? Or will I belong to her forever—a creature trapped by obsession—until every damned star falls from the sky?
Celine tilts her head back, reaching up to toy with the fold of the towel above her left breast. “Last chance,” she purrs. “Do you want me or not?”
My chest rises and falls shakily, but I can’t take my eyes off her. The stars could fall right now, and I’m not sure I would notice. My entire reality exists inside this bathroom. Steam. Pounding water. And desire so strong I can’t fight it. I can’t resist her, and I don’t want to.
I swallow heavily and nod, unable to force my lips to form a single syllable.
Celine’s lips curl, and her fingers tug at the towel.
It falls.
I can’t get enough air.
