"Temptation," I said in a whisper.
I let the word sink into the air, and our bones and the floor beneath our feet.
Then she did something I hadn’t seen coming and I was really the type to analyze most situations. Lila crossed the space between us in an instant, took my face in both hands, and kissed me.
It wasn’t a tentative kiss either or shy. It was like she’d been thinking about it for a very long and had finally gotten tired of not doing it.
Satan’s fucking nutsack,my thoughts stirred as I let the scent of her surround me.
I completely understood the no longer wanting to wait part, because I had been thinking about it since the second night she’s arrived. I’d been holding myself back from doing more than kissing too.
I kissed her back in a hungry way. Five fucking centuries of careful self-discipline had disintegrated in a moment when Lila’s most had met mine.
When we finally broke apart she was still holding my face and we were both breathing harder than the situation technically warranted and she was looking at me like she wasn't sure what to do with what had just happened.
"I should go upstairs," she said.
"You should," I agreed.
Neither of us moved, just stood there our breaths heavy and filling the eerie basement.
"We're making terrible decisions," she said.
"Yes."
"You're also a complete stranger.”
"Yes,” I nodded.
"I've known you for two weeks."
"Thirteen days," I found myself giving her the amount of time, and watched something shift in her expression, the realization that I had been counting, and then she kissed me again and I stopped keeping track of anything at all.
I had touched her braid every chance I had found to do it, tugging it, wrapping a curl around my finger, feeling her go still every time I did it. So the first thing I did when she finally let me was take it apart, unwinding it slowly until her hair fell loose and dark around her shoulders and she looked up at me with those warm brown eyes and I understood, in a way I had been avoiding understanding for thirteen days, that I was in a significant amount of trouble.
She laughed when I pulled her toward the stairs, soft and a little breathless, and said something about terrible decisions again, and I said I was aware, and she said that wasn't reassuring, and I said I know, and she laughed again.
We made it upstairs.
The moment her bedroom door clicked shut behind us, the last thread of restraint snapped. I spun her around and backed her against the wall, my mouth crashing down on hers again—hungrier this time, all teeth and tongue and five centuries of denied hunger. Lila moaned into the kiss, her hands fisting in my shirt, pulling me closer.
I tangled my fingers into that thick, wild mane of dark curls and wrapped them once, twice around my fist, tugging her headback sharply so I could drag my mouth down the column of her throat. She gasped, the sound going straight to my dick.
"Azrael…”
I didn’t let her finish and yanked her thin sleep shirt over her head, baring her to the cool storm air. Roughly, I palmed one breast roughly while my mouth found the other. Her back arched, pressing into me, and I growled against her skin.
I walked her backward until her knees hit the bed and pushed her down onto it. She looked up at me, lips swollen, eyes dark with want and need. Her hair had already become a beautiful mess against the sheets. I stripped off my own clothes in seconds and came down over her, caging her with my body.
"Turn over," I ordered, voice low and rough.
She obeyed, a shiver running through her. I grabbed her hips and pulled her up onto her knees, then fisted her hair again…tighter this time…using it like a leash to arch her back as I lined myself up and drove into her waiting pussy.
Lila cried out, the sound half-moan, half-laugh, her walls clenching around me.
Fuck.
She was a tight little thing.
