Page 44 of She Who Was Once the Sea

And when she arched her back with a raw, jagged little whimper, it felt as though I’d never existed before this singular moment. Like I was always meant to find myself here, pressed against her, holding her waist as she crumbled beneath me.

Finally, as her chest heaved and her fingers fisted tightly in my hair, I released my hold on her neck.

But I didn’t step away. We stood like that for a long moment, both of us breathing manically, staring into each other’s eyes with near-rabid obsession.

I wasn’t sure which of us moved first, but suddenly, in a flash of teeth, we collided.

Marella didn’t kiss softly. She kissed me like she was dying of thirst, and I was her single source of water. I kissed her back like she was the answer to every question I’d ever asked.

Because maybe she was.

We couldn’t get close enough. I knew she felt it too, because she clawed her way into my arms, wrapping her legs around my hips as I pressed her into the door.

I tore my mouth from hers, trailing kisses along the line of her throat where I’d just been feeding. There was a jagged little scar already forming there, and she gasped as my lips brushed across it.

"Garrett," she said my name again, and all rational thought left my head. I turned us away from the door, cupping her thighs as she continued to kiss and grind against me. This time, it wasn’t hunger making my knees weak.

When we crashed onto the bed, she landed beneath me, legs locked around my waist. For several frantic seconds, neither of us slowed. Her hands disappeared beneath my shirt, nails scraping lightly across my back, and I kissed my way from the mouth to the sharp line of her jaw.

She tipped her head back and whispered my name again.

This time, it sounded different. It was soft. Quiet. Gentle.

I pulled my head back just enough to look at her.

Her lips were swollen, black hair messy atop the pillow, like a pool of ink beneath her head. The strap of her shirt still hung uselessly from one shoulder, leaving the top of her breast exposed.

She was beautiful, but I already knew that. But looking down at her in that moment, I didn't see something as simple as beauty. As her questioning eyes raised to meet mine, as her thumb brushed across the ridge of my cheekbone, something inside me lurched.

For a terrifying moment, I felt like I was falling.

When I caught myself, I jolted upright, pushing myself off of her and scrambling from the bed. I looked around the room frantically, searching for something, anything familiar, feeling like an animal caught in a trap.

What the fuck am I doing?

"Garrett?" she said my name again. This time, it was a question. This time, it was laced with fear and worry. This time, it held an edge of hurt that I tried to ignore.

I squeezed my eyes shut.

This wasn't what I came to Rossaia to do. I'd come looking for purpose. I was there to find meaning, to finally commit to something bigger than myself. I crossed an ocean, left my home, my friends, my family.

I'd been adrift, and the Fratelli had offered me an anchor. They offered me something that mattered. A purpose.

For the first time in a long time, someone expected something more from me.

Was I so disloyal that a smile from a pretty woman could undo all that work?

"I'm sorry." We spoke the words at the same time. My voice was muffled by my hand, my words tight and scared. Hers was apologetic and gentle.

When I looked at her again, she was sitting on her knees on the bed. She had the sheets pulled up against her chest, and her eyes were guarded. She looked sad, but even her sadness couldn't detract from what radiated from her.

She was dangerous.

But somehow, I wasn't afraid of her teeth or what she could do with them.

No. I was afraid of that look in her eyes. And more than that, I was afraid that it might have the power to completely unravel me.

Without another word, without giving her the chance to say my name again, I sprinted across the room, ripped open the door, and ran out into the night.