Exodus (The Ravenhood #2)(59)
“You better fucking run,” he roars behind me as I sprint past the pool and dare to glance back. He’s hot on my heels, eyes dancing as he gives chase. I’m barely able to make it through the garden when he manages to hook me around the waist on the lawn.
I yelp his name when he twirls me around like a ragdoll, my feet dangling in the air before he lowers me to the grass and begins rooting into my neck as I choke on spicy fumes.
“Damnit man, you reek.”
“J’adore la cannelle,” I love cinnamon, he retorts snidely shaking the residual water in his hair across my neck and chest before coating me with the powder, creating a paste across my flesh as I frantically try to push him away. It’s when he pulls back that he robs my breath, his eyes bright, his smile so blinding, I shudder beneath him. It’s when my smile dims with the image that’s been screwing with me all morning that he draws his brows.
“What is wrong with you today?” He scrutinizes me beneath him, his eyes probing. “Are you still mad at me? I told you it couldn’t be helped.”
“No.”
“What is it then? You’ve been giving me hell all morning.”
I gaze up at him for a few seconds before I dart my eyes away. “I might have had a dream.”
“This is about a dream,” he says in the same breath.
“I told you,” I sigh, pushing at his chest to no avail. “I’ve explained this. They’re real for me.”
“But they aren’t real, Cecelia. And you can’t hold a dream against me.”
“Says you, and it felt real.” I can hear the ache in my own voice. “You locked me out of my own bedroom.”
“You had a dream that I locked you out of your bedroom, and you’re mad at me?”
“Yep.”
He narrows his eyes. “There’s more.”
“Nope, that’s the gist of it.”
“You’re lying.”
“I’m not.”
He reaches between us, gripping my thigh and squeezes.
“S-s-stop. I c-can’t breathe inhaling all of this cinnamon. Get off me. I’m hungry.”
His fingers begin traveling to the hem of my sleep shorts before inching toward the promised land. “I can do this all day,” he assures, unflinching when I pinch his skin. “Tell me, what was I doing in this dream?”
“Non.” No.
“Non?” He leans in, darting his tongue along my bottom lip just as his finger faintly brushes over my clit. I moan, and he captures it, kissing me breathless as he sinks more of his weight onto me, pinning me to the grass.
“Damnit, man, you’re suffocating me.”
“Tell me, and I’ll set you free.”
“No.”
He resumes his touch, suckling my chest and teasing me without reservation.
“You’re a cruel and evil man,” I rasp out, digging my fingers into his scalp.
“Word of the day, soumission.” He muses as my hips buck due to his touch.
“Submission? Dream on, pal.”
“Have you forgotten already? One finger.” He licks a trail from my neck to my ear. “And I’m pretty sure that was a tear I licked off your temple.”
“You’re never going to let me forget that, are you?” He licks his finger in threat.
“Tobias,” I mewl, hearing the husk in my voice. “It was just a dream.”
“Ah, but I’ve been paying for it. At least enlighten me on what I’m guilty of in your land of make-believe.”
“You were mean to me.”
He pins my wrists and leans in as I struggle. “Mean to you?” He rolls his eyes. “That you can handle.”
“Breakfast,” I remind him.
“It can wait,” he retorts.
“You were starving.”
“It can wait.”
“Tobias, damnit, let me up.”
“You’re your own worst enemy right now.”
“Debatable,” I say, lifting to bite his chin, and he dodges me easily. “This is bullshit. You outweigh me by nearly a hundred pounds. I’m utterly helpless.”
“Guess you better find some leverage. Or you can just tell me what I was doing.”
Briefly, I entertain headbutting him and get a smug grin.
“It will hurt you more than it will me.”
“Get out of my head.”
“Gladly, it seems to be a scary place today. But only after you give me what I want.”
“Fine.” I close my eyes. “There may have been lingerie models behind you when you slammed the door in my face.”
Heat creeps up my neck and I peek up at him with one eye open. He stares down at me a second before bursting into laughter.
I push at his chest. “It’s not funny.”
He dips his head and nuzzles me. “Oh, mon bébé, are we jealous? No wonder you rode me this morning like you were trying to tame a horse. Going for the gold, huh?”
“It’s not funny,” I shove at his chest, my heart lurching as I again picture him eyeing me with a slew of half-naked women behind him before he shut me out. Gazing up at him, I feel the stretch of my own reluctant smile as he glitters down on me with affection. It’s this look, the look on his face now that keeps me breathless, a relapsed and happy addict.