Total pages in book: 247
Estimated words: 235897 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1179(@200wpm)___ 944(@250wpm)___ 786(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 235897 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1179(@200wpm)___ 944(@250wpm)___ 786(@300wpm)
He sucks my tongue into his mouth, and I whimper at the frenzy whipping through me, at how much I’ve missed the physical contact between us. My hands rise to his chest, and the chill of his jacket sends a shiver down my back. How long was he flying in that storm? I push gently. “Wait.”
He immediately pauses, lifting his head just enough to look in my eyes. “I shouldn’t be here, I know. Not yet, at least.”
“That isn’t what I meant.” I slip my fingers between the buttons of his flight jacket and hold on to the fabric like we can solve every problem in the world if he just stays in this room with me. “Of course you should be here. I just thought you were in Lewellen.”
“I was.” His focus drops to my lips and heats so quickly that I almost regret stopping him. “Then I launched for Tirvainne and ended up in our home.” The words come slowly, like they’re being ripped from him. “Or at least it will be after you graduate and we’re both assigned here.”
“It’s already home.” My pulse jumps. I can’t remember the last time he talked about the future with anything but dread. “You flew nine hours in the wrong direction,” I tease, undoing the top button of his flight jacket, then the next.
“Well-the-fuck-aware,” he whispers with a hint of a smirk. “I’d been pissed and skating that mental ice in Lewellen—but I held my shit together instead of punching the two men who raised me after Dad died.” He searches my eyes like I might condemn him for the admission, but I simply work my way down his buttons and listen. “We were beyond the wards, but I didn’t reach for any form of power because even in that state, I knew it could take me back to day zero, and day zero doesn’t give me you. I clawed my way back to myself and left.”
“You kept your control.” Pride has a smile tugging at my mouth as I free his last button.
He nods. “I’m not ignoring my fate. I know there will come a point in time where I’ll become more it than me.” He swallows. “But as dangerous as hope is, you’re right—I have to fight for this. I think I’m stable for now, and I know it’s only day seventy—”
“What is this magical number you have?” Gods help me if we’re looking at triple digits.
He tucks my hair behind my ears. “Seventy-six. It’s twice Barlowe’s longest stretch without draining after his first significant channeling—the cliff incident. I didn’t want to get your hopes up, but I figure that making it seventy-six days will indicate that I can stall the progression.”
I blink. “Three days?” My hopes don’t just rise; they soar.
“I told myself I’d wait until day seventy-six to show up at your door, but Sgaeyl changed course once I realized if I could keep control beyond the wards…” He leans in, hovering inches above my mouth.
“Then you can keep control with me?” I shamelessly finish the sentence the way I want it to end. My breath catches when icy-cold water drips onto my collarbone, doing nothing to dispel the rising temperature of my body this close to his.
“Under the right circumstances.” He nods, then retreats a step, stripping off his soaked flight jacket, and I follow suit, shrugging out of my robe so the garments hit the floor at the same time. “This might be as good as it gets, and I want every single second we—” He stops mid-sentence as his gaze rakes over the full length of me with blatant, palpable hunger, warming every inch of my skin that it touches. “Oh fuck,” he groans.
“What would those circumstances be?” My heart starts to race. Whatever he wants, whatever he needs, it’s his. I’m his.
“Are you wearing…” He lifts a hand toward me, then pulls it back, clenching his fist.
“The nightdress you had made for me? Yes. Don’t get distracted. What circumstances?” I repeat, then drag my tongue over my swollen lower lip. That kiss wasn’t nearly enough. I’m starved for him, and if he’s ready, I’m happily willing to feast.
“Not distracted. Obsessed. You look…” His eyes darken as he studies my curves like he’s never seen them. “Maybe we should wait until day seventy-six.” He retreats and reaches for the door handle.
Absolutely not.
“Open that door, and I’ll pin the edge of your pants to the wood and leave you there for the next three days.” I glance meaningfully at my daggers on the dresser. “We can curl up in our bed and just sleep if that’s what you want, but please stop running from me.”
“I definitely don’t want to sleep.” He pushes off the door, and my pulse thrums as he consumes the distance between us. “And I’m entirely incapable of running from you.” His fingers spear through the hair at the nape of my neck and he tugs, tilting my face toward his. “Even when I’m not entirely…me, whatever I am still craves you, needs you, only wants you.”