Blood of Zeus (Blood of Zeus #1) - Meredith Wild Page 0,78

that much.”

Light rain pelts the windows. I can hardly hear it over the rush of blood in my ears. My heart is beating wildly thanks to the intimate turn of this conversation. This slow dance of showing him pieces of me. Always afraid of revealing too much. More frightened than ever that I’ll never have a chance to be with him. To make this real.

“I trust you.” I flatten my palm over his heart. The tightness in my chest is back, except now it’s made of longing. Anticipation. Hope.

How do I tell him all that? I brave a look into his eyes, only to be met with their heart-shattering intensity. Before I can formulate the right words, he sweeps his lips over mine. Tenderly. Maddeningly tentative. I pull myself higher, press myself closer, needing the contact to match the wild need building in me.

Except when I do, he brings his hands to my face, keeping me from going deeper. Tasting more. Taking more.

He pulls back and takes a couple of short breaths. “You should get some rest.”

I frown. “Why?”

“Because it’s been a heavy day, Kara, and it’s late. You must be exhausted.”

I am, of course. But I’m not. My heart is going a million miles an hour. Every nerve ending is hypercharged to respond to his touch. No way could I sleep right now.

Still, he’s lifting me into his arms again like all this crying has somehow rendered my legs useless. But I don’t mind the effort he goes to, walking me to the edge of his bed in the studio and lowering me gently to my feet.

“You can sleep here, all right? I’ll take the couch.”

He bends to kiss me again. A swift, chaste kiss that’s a fraction of what I need it to be. I chase it, but he’s moving away too fast.

Meanwhile the ache in my chest is spreading everywhere. Fire under my skin. A frantic pulse so fierce and so fast, I can hardly breathe. I need more than a kiss. I need his hands on me. I need to feel this connection between us in every possible way.

I’m done denying I can walk through this life without having it.

He’s moving around the living room, tossing throw pillows off the couch. His face is so crunched in concentration, one might think he was in the midst of solving a complex equation. The equation is simpler than he realizes.

Me plus him. Not a shred of anything else. Not even the snug jeans that are giving his own arousal away.

I slip off my shoes and tug on the string that’s holding my wrap dress in place. That’s all it takes for it to loosen and slip off me. He can’t possibly hear the flimsy fabric fall to the floor, but he looks up just then.

I don’t think he’s even breathing.

“Kara.”

My name has never sounded like such torture. It might as well be a dying plea on his lips.

Except he’s mine. My last wish.

My hero.

“Come here,” I say.

His chest moves under labored breaths. Finally he takes a few steps closer, slowly, stopping several feet away. He swallows hard and takes me in, from my naked toes to my bare breasts, lingering on the lacy black panties I’d have stripped off too if I didn’t want to save the task for him.

“I want to be with you, Maximus.”

He tears his gaze away with a muttered curse.

“You said you wanted all of me.”

“I do. God, I do.” He slams his eyes closed and rakes a hand through his hair roughly.

“Just come here,” I beg.

“If I touch you right now, this is over. I can’t… I’m strong, but I’m not that strong.”

“You don’t need to be. We want the same thing.”

He won’t move. Won’t open his eyes. So I go to him.

“Maximus,” I whisper. “Look at me. Feel me.”

Then we’re chest to chest. He releases a jagged exhale and opens his eyes, looking every bit as overwhelmed as I feel.

“Just kiss me.”

A long moment passes. He searches my eyes, feathers a soft touch over my lips. He looks me over with wild wonder, like maybe he can’t believe I’m real.

And when he finally lowers, our mouths collide in a desperate rush. He kisses me like he might die if he doesn’t. Or maybe that’s the reflection from my own soul. My own agonized spirit. Every inch of my anxious body. I’m a mass of awakening and awareness, of need and urgency, of lust and longing. Never have I been drenched in a