Dark Champion (Flirting with Monsters #4) - Eva Chase Page 0,30
gaze dropped for a second before catching mine even more intently. “I should have pieced that fact together well before you had to throw yourself between Thorn and me. You haven’t really made a secret of your mind-set. I just didn’t recognize your altruism for what it was—or maybe I didn’t let myself recognize it—until it was that blatant.”
I swallowed thickly. “So… you’re not still waiting for me to fuck up so you’ll have an excuse to haul me off to the Highest after all?”
He looked honestly startled by that question. “Is that what you thought?”
“You haven’t exactly been Mr. Talkative since you unchained me, even by your standards.”
He stroked his hand down my face again with a tad more pressure than before. My heart skipped a beat. Then it kept right on jitter-bugging away like it was ‘50s prom night in my chest.
Omen’s mouth had twisted. “Ah. Well. There’ve been things I’ve known I should say to you, but I hadn’t quite settled on how to say them, so I may have erred too much on the side of saying nothing at all.” He drew in a long breath. “I need to apologize to you. I was far more of an asshole to you than you deserved when we first met, and I should have let up on you sooner—to a greater extent— You’ve had even less say over the hand you’ve been dealt than I have, and it’s taken you a lot less time to make something admirable out of it. You put my own efforts to shame.”
The thought of the hellhound shifter apologizing to anyone, let alone me, was so bizarre that my thoughts kept spinning around his words for several seconds as they slowly sunk in. “So… being nicer to me is your attempt to pull ahead in some competition of who’s the most stellar being around?”
Omen let out a huff. “I’m trying to tell you I’m sorry for not recognizing your ‘stellar’ qualities sooner. Do you always have to make everything as hard as possible?”
A laugh spilled out of me. I still couldn’t quite wrap my head around the praise he was offering me, but I knew him well enough now to recognize the gleam of orange fire in his eyes and to note that his hand had lingered against the crook of my jaw as if he wasn’t ready to stop touching me yet. I might not know how to respond to kindness from Omen, but I knew what to do with that heat.
I trailed my fingers down the front of his shirt, stopping just an inch above the fly of his slacks. “I can think of one or two things we both enjoy my making harder.”
Omen let out a growl, but it was all hunger. Then he was tugging my mouth to his, his lips descending on me with a kiss so blazing it branded me all the way down to my toes.
I gripped his shirt, kissing him back with everything I had in me. No matter how much we’d squabbled, no matter how much we might both have to apologize for, there was nothing but rightness in the way our bodies sparked against each other.
Omen’s tongue swept into my mouth. He pulled me tighter against him, one hand on my ass, the other sliding up my side to cup my breast. He was plenty hard already, and the feel of that solid length pressing against me through our clothes sent a shock of heat straight to my sex.
A famous cathedral wasn’t where I’d have pictured getting it on with any of my lovers, least of all the most hellish of them, but not a single particle in me had any interest in pausing this encounter to move elsewhere.
Omen pushed me up against one of the columns. A flicker of his fiery power raced between us—and my inner flames rose up to meet it like they had before. Pleasure burned across every inch of my skin.
The hellhound shifter dropped his mouth to the side of my neck, and I tangled my fingers in the short tufts of his hair, sprung wild in his abandon. The slick of his tongue beneath my chin drew a whimper from my throat.
“Tell me what you want,” Omen said, his voice thick with desire and portent.
Oh, there were a hell of a lot of things I wanted, but right now only one seemed to matter. “Fuck me. Fuck me as hard as you can.”