Wings of the Wicked - By Courtney Allison Moulton Page 0,68
I just closed them for a moment, then I’d feel so much better. Just for a moment …
17
I MUST HAVE FALLEN ASLEEP IN THE CAR BECAUSE I was abruptly aware that it had stopped and Will was climbing out. A moment later, he had my door open and was lifting me into his arms. He carried me into the house and up a flight of stairs. I tensed and swiveled my head around as he pushed open the door to a room. I took a deep breath and realized instantly that the room smelled like Will. The rich scent made me giddy, and I buried my face in his chest so he wouldn’t see my involuntary smile.
When Will put me down on the bed and pulled away, I sat up dizzily. I felt better after sleeping on the drive home, but I was still drunk. I watched Will return with a tank top and cotton shorts. He laid them down beside me and purposely avoided my gaze. The thick tension between us practically fogged my vision.
“These are Lauren’s,” he said. “She doesn’t mind you borrowing them tonight. There’s an extra toothbrush in the bathroom if you want it.”
“I’ll thank her in the morning.” I tilted my head to see his eyes better. “Is this your room?”
He nodded and started to turn away.
Will’s room. Will’s bed. My nerve endings lit on fire.
“Will,” I said, touching his arm. Muscle clenched beneath my fingertips.
He turned back to me, still averting his eyes. Anger spiked through me.
“Look at me,” I said. It felt strangely intimate being in his bed. Things I shouldn’t have wondered swelled inside me, like all the things we could do right here where I was sitting. His scent filled my head, making me feel even more intoxicated.
My anger washed away the second his gaze lifted to mine. My heart felt heavy when I saw how dull the color of his eyes was. I pulled my legs underneath me and stood up on my knees. I toyed with the hem of my skirt and watched his gaze on my fingers and bare skin. His jaw tightened when I edged closer to him. My hand trailed up his arm and shoulder to wrap around the back of his neck. He swallowed and watched my other hand slide up his chest, moving over the ridges of his muscles. My fingers touched his lips, and my other hand pulled his face down closer to mine.
“Kiss me,” I whispered slowly, a desperate plea, and I stroked my thumb across his bottom lip. My heart pounded, and I wanted him so badly it felt like I’d jump out of my skin.
His mouth parted, and his gaze fell to my lips before flickering back up. His hands slid around my hips, and he pulled me against him. “No,” he said, but his body betrayed his pledge.
“I order you to kiss me,” I said into his lips. My fingers dipped into his waistband and began to unbuckle his belt and jeans. He took a deep breath and his hands tightened on my hips, but he didn’t stop me.
He turned his face into my neck and let out a long, frustrated groan, burning my skin with his breath and sending shivers through me. He nuzzled my hair, drinking in my scent as my fingernails ran softly down the back of his neck. “You can’t do that to me,” he said huskily, his lips brushing my skin.
I slipped my hands under his shirt, and I smoothed them over his solid abdomen. “Then kiss me because you want to.”
He lifted his head and brought his face so close to mine that I could feel the heat radiating off him. His breathing was ragged when his mouth finally met mine, the kiss deep and full of something far more carnal than any kiss before it. He kissed me as fiercely as he fought in battle, with as much determination and calculation as he had when he killed, and I melted into his body. No one had ever kissed me like that before, no one could ever kiss me like he did. I inhaled the scent of his kiss as I tasted it. He hadn’t kissed me in so very long that I was hungry for it, starving for his lips. I wound my hands around his shoulders and nipped his bottom lip gently. He squeezed me into his chest more tightly and let out a low rumble from his throat.