Page 79
CHAPTER
TWENTY-FIVE
LYNX
Ican’t remember the last time I ever felt so relaxed. I lie there for longer than I should, giving myself more time than I need to sink into the feeling of complete satisfaction. What I should be doing is tuning back into the sounds and sights around my cabin since I’ve been ignoring them for the last … who knows how long that just took. But I can’t. I don’t want to.
The quiet in my head is peaceful.
Then Sasha sits up.
Those bright blue eyes shine down at me, wet underneath, cheeks stained that exact red that draws a bull in. I don’t have words for him. It’s what he’s after, and there’s a small part of me that wishes I could give them to him, but he should know by now that I can’t give him anything he needs. That’s not who I am.
Yet I find myself trying anyway. “I wasn’t expecting that.”
“Weren’t you?” He tilts his head like he’s trying to read me. “It felt like it was only a matter of time to me.”
I’d been trying to ignore that feeling. I sit up so I’m facing him, his knees bent beside me and mine doing the same to him. From this angle, our faces are so close I can see the fresh skin on his lip where the split has sealed itself back together.
It has to be the sex talking because I can’t look away from his face. He’s so … he’s just … “Beautiful.”
“What?” The surprise that lights up his face makes me realize that I spoke the word out loud. It’s not that it’s a secret; it’s just that I don’t think I’ve ever thought that about someone before, let alone said it.
“You’re beautiful.”
His eyes are so wide I’m worried that I’ve shocked them there permanently. “Th-thank you.”
“I didn’t do anything.”
“For the compliment.” He presses his fingers to his cheeks like they’ll somehow pull the red away. It doesn’t work.
“Every time I see your scars,” I tell him, “it makes me want to kill someone.”
“Well, I hope you like feeling murderous because I want you to see those scars as often as possible.”
My gaze dips to where the soft head of his cock is just poking out from under the hoodie. I have to screw my eyes closed because I want to see them again too. Now. Always. Not the scars though, just him.
I’m not supposed to want any of it.
Gentle fingers press to my chin, and I reset my focus on him. “Did you enjoy that?”
“A lot.”
“Can we do it again?”
I know what I’m supposed to say. What years of shunning vulnerability should be leading to. It’s the only option that will keep my senses sharp and locked in to my mission in Wilde’s End, but even as I remind myself how distracted sex makes me, I’m looking at him and knowing I won’t be able to resist.
I can’t not hear those muffled noises again. I can’t not see the way my fingerprints decorate his skin. I can’t go without his eager squirming underneath me.
It fuels me and burns out so quickly, I’m left cold until I can have more.
“When?” I find myself asking instead.
Sasha’s pretty lips pull up at the sides. “Whenever we want.” He leans in, mouth teasingly close to mine. “I want to wake you up sucking your dick. I want to fall asleep with your cock inside me. And I …” He leans close again, voice dropping low. “I want to kiss you.” His bottom lip brushes mine, and I’m completely unprepared for how it will feel. For the way something hard and unsettling yanks deep in the pit of my gut and has me leaning forward too.
Sasha’s lips hover so close I can feel the heat from them, feel the way these little sparks are going off in my own lips, with no signs of slowing down.
“I don’t know how,” I tell him.
