Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 114925 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 575(@200wpm)___ 460(@250wpm)___ 383(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114925 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 575(@200wpm)___ 460(@250wpm)___ 383(@300wpm)
No. No! That was Astan’s influence. It must be. “We’re still breathing, Cyrus. We haven’t lost anything.”
He stalked to a wet bar and poured himself a drink. After downing it, he poured another and downed it too. “Would you like one?” he asked with a flat timbre.
“No, thank you.” I’d tried a coworker’s home brew a year ago, and I’d hated how out of control I’d felt.
Cyrus poured a third glass, lifted it, set it down. Lifted it. Set it down. Gripping the edges of the bar, he bowed his head.
Desperate to give comfort, I closed the distance and wrapped my arms around him from behind. With my palms flat on his torso, I rested my cheek between his shoulders, suddenly overcome with tenderness. His ambrosial scent saturated the air, turning every breath into my favorite dream.
Few people got to witness his vulnerability. Only those he trusted. A small circle that consisted of me, myself, and I. My troubles were forgotten as I sought to absorb his. “Look at me, Cyrus.”
For several long moments, he remained as he was, tense and silent.
“Please.”
Slowly he turned, as if he couldn’t resist my plea. I didn’t release him or ease back but pressed closer, letting my weight settle against his powerful body. Our gazes held as I tipped up my face. As we melted into each other. As I conformed my shape to his, enjoying every ache and pang that ignited. The most delicious heat spread to my limbs. Every inhalation came with a side of intoxication. This sensation I liked.
“You aren’t in this alone.” I traced my fingers up his arms and over his shoulders to rest them upon his nape. “Stop trying to carry everything on your own. It’s weighing you down. We aren’t without hope. We have each other and Domino. Whether you like him or not, he’s an asset. We have our books. Ember and her crew. A purpose and a mission.”
A moment passed before he gave me a small but sweet smile. “I like this side of you. The warrior spirit I noticed your first day at Fort Bala.”
His husky voice acted as embers and smoke, curling through my senses. “Is there another side of me you like?” There might have been smoke in my voice too. “Perhaps a softer side?”
His eyelids sank low. “I very much like your softer side.” He set a hand on my hip, between the gap left by my shirt and pants, and the instant sear of skin against skin unraveled me from the inside out. “Do you remember when I said I wouldn’t kiss you while you’re connected to the librarian?”
My heart raced toward him, no finish line in sight, only the endless pull of his presence. “Mmm. I’m still pouting about it.”
He slowly bent his head, stopping when his lips hovered directly over mine. I breathed his air, and he breathed mine, and it was the hottest moment of my life.
“I’ve changed my mind.” He swooped in, pressing his lips against mine.
I opened, greeting his tongue with my own. A moan slipped out. He was pleasure itself, and I sipped at the well, savoring every second. We continued tasting each other, slowly at first, but soon the tempo increased. With it, the pressure inside me intensified, and I strained toward him.
We’d kissed before, but this was different. Something deeper and sweeter. A quiet storm of fire and silk. Intimacy able to steal my breath, with a fierceness that set my skin alight. And yet, beneath the longing, there was something else. A tremor of desperation. A whisper of fear . . . Perhaps a bite of recklessness and ruination.
He spun us both around, pinning me against the bar. A single kick of his foot widened my legs, allowing him to push a leg between mine. Thoughts whirled, soon fragmenting, dissolving, and evaporating. Threading his fingers in my hair, he tipped me off balance, forcing me to rely on him.
I pulled at his shirt with grasping hands. Barely pausing the kiss, he ripped the material over his head. His tattooed pectorals drew my palms like magnets. I caressed his ribs. His lower stomach.
He hefted me onto the bar, then stepped between my legs again. Still the kiss continued, deepening. I needed more of him. Wanted everything he had to give. But. A tugging sensation. Slight. Noticeable. It erupted in my deepest depths, and for a moment, I was certain I was in the wrong place at the wrong time. That I should be . . . with Domino.
Perplexed and appalled, I wrenched from the kiss. I did not just think that.
Expression hardening, Cyrus backed up several steps and blustered his next breath. “You feel him.” A hard statement, not a question.
Guilt and shame flared. “I think he needs to tell me something.”
Domino appeared beside Cyrus a heartbeat later, ending the conversation. He glanced between us and pressed his lips into a firm line. “Ask him to show you the tome.”