Page 43 of She Who Was Once the Sea

I was looking for something else.

Her guarded expression gave me nothing.

"Where were you?" I finally asked, noting the rise and fall of her chest in the flimsy tank top she wore.

She frowned before answering. Just as they had before, when she’d told me about her family’s predicament, her lips seemed to fuse together as she tried to speak. Her hands balled into tight fists at her sides.

"Fuck," she whispered before glaring back at me. "I was delayed."

"By what?"

Her teeth worked at her lower lip so violently that I thought she might break the skin. "The Stone Witch."

What little blood remained in my face drained quickly. "What?"

A pinprick of blood appeared on her lip. "She knows what we’re doing." Her voice was stilted. It was as though she were ripping each word from her mouth one by one. "And she isn’t happy about it."

"Is she the one who hurt you?" I let my fingers drift from her shoulders down her arms, softly grazing the scratches and bruises inlaid upon her skin.

She nodded and shifted to one side, as if trying to step away from my touch, but I didn’t miss the shiver that she tried to hide.

"Sorry," I whispered, suddenly very aware of how close we were standing—of that small dollop of blood pooling on her lower lip. "Does this hurt?"

She shook her head, following my gaze. "You need to feed," she said with a note of bitterness in her voice.

I sighed and let myself lean forward, resting my forehead against the place where her neck met her shoulders. I could practically hear the blood pulsing just centimeters from my ear, but I couldn’t bring myself to bite her just yet.

For a moment, she froze, arms raised at her sides like the statue she once was. Then, slowly, she brought them up to wrap around my back. Her touch was awkward, stiff like her words. But her fingers rested gently against the thin cotton of my t-shirt, and all I could think about was how badly I wanted that layer removed from between us.

"I’m sorry you were hurt," I said. I could smell my own breath as it pooled in the space between us. "I never want that to happen."

She didn’t say anything. Her fingers traced their way up my back, across my shoulders, until they twined around my hair. She pulled my head back by the scalp gently but firmly. Her eyes were sad when they met mine. "Drink."

With that, she pressed my mouth against her neck, and I gave in to my most base desires. This time, when my lips met her skin, they parted as if on instinct. My teeth found that pulse point without me having to look.

I heard myself moan as the first sip slid across my tongue and down my throat. Just that one sip was enough to make me feel infinitely better than I had just seconds before. Had it felt like this the first time I’d drunk from her? I’d been so near to death, I couldn’t remember, but surely there was no way I could forget something like this.

It was ecstasy. It was sustenance and pleasure and need and desire all coalesced into one spot on this woman’s neck.

I let my body lean into her as I continued to suck, a series of unholy sounds echoing along the back of my throat.

Somehow, amidst my haze of pleasure, I became aware of other noises filling the room.

They were coming from her.

Beneath me, Marella was gasping, her breath coming in short little bursts that ruffled the hair on the side of my head.

They didn’t sound like gasps of pain.

As I allowed myself to pull harder and deeper at the place where we were attached, I also let my hips settle onto hers. Her breaths grew even more shallow and ragged. And then, before I even realized what I was doing, I raised one hand, letting it scrape across her waist, across the cotton of her shirt, to the thin strap at her shoulder.

I pulled it down slowly, waiting for her to stop me, to say no, to grab my wrist and shove me away.

When she did none of that, I pulled the fabric down entirely, so that her bare breast was cupped beneath my hand.

I’d seen her naked before, of course. Just once, when I’d walked away like an idiot. But this was different. This time, I couldn’t see her breast. But I could feel it. I felt her skin pebble against my fingers, felt her trembling with each pass of my hand.

"Garrett." When she whispered my name, it felt like waking up. Like my eyes were suddenly opened to all the bright, shining color of the world.