Where Lightning Strikes (Bleeding Stars #3)(50)

But this fire?

It felt so f*cking good, I couldn’t let it go. Not when I had it for these moments that were fleeting fast.

I lifted her from the island and carried her toward the narrow second set of stairs leading from the kitchen.

She clutched my shoulders and held on tighter. “Where are we going?”

“Upstairs,” I mumbled at her mouth, refusing to come up for air because I might lose this. I might lose the feeling that I had something real for the first time in what seemed forever.

Fingertips dug into the base of my neck. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“I think it’s a very f*cking good idea,” I grunted at her mouth. My cock begging at the seam of her jeans seemed proof enough.

I pressed her harder against me, loving that was all it took to make her moan.

I needed her. Needed her touch and her smile and her panted breaths.

“I want to make you come.”

She whimpered a sound that shouted yes, while her words poured out their reluctance. “That’s not going to erase whatever just happened back there. Talk to me. Please.”

I kept kissing her as I took the stairs. Erase. That’s what I was going to do. And I was going to write myself over that bastard’s blemish. Over the anguish and damage and ruin.

For once…for once I wanted to have something good to offer.

I wanted to offer it to her.

Every remnant of what I had left to give.

Her fingers dug deeper and her nails sank into my skin.

And I knew…I knew she wanted to give it, too. But the difference between us was I didn’t ever want to forget.

I hit the landing of the stairs at the back of the hall and fumbled with the knob of the door at the end. It knocked open and I was quick to kick it shut. The drapes on the windows facing out back were drawn open wide.

I laid her in the center of the bed and stood at the side.

“Whose room is this?” she whispered into the quiet.

“Mine.”

That was the thing about Ash. We fought. We fought like brothers. Because that’s exactly what we were. Not by blood. But by every single thing that counted. He’d had me pick out one of the rooms and told me no matter where I went, I’d always have a home.

Blue eyes flickered with some kind of hope.

Stay. Stay. Stay.

Every rational part of me knew I needed to stamp it out. Tell her no. Warn her we had six weeks to go.

That was it.

The end.

But I couldn’t make the words form on my tongue. Instead, I pulled off one of those sexy-ass heels and kissed the inside arch of her foot, then turned and did the same to the other.

Shivers rolled through her body and lust curled in my gut.

I wanted to f*ck her more than I wanted air.

To experience all she had to give.

To taste her courage.

To swallow her insecurities.

“Lyrik.” It was a breath. A question.

“You’re so damned pretty.” Part of me wished she wasn’t. Truth was, it was getting harder to look at her. Because I just kept wanting more and more. Asking for trouble. For heartache and pain.

I knew better.

I’d learned a long time ago to shuck the worry and the bullshit chains. Life was so much easier to glide through with nothing weighing you down.

I already carried more than I could bear.

Still, my heart picked up a beat when I leaned over and flicked the button of her jeans. The ripping sound of her zipper echoed against the walls. She whimpered and lifted her ass from the bed, making it easy for me to drag her jeans and underwear down her legs.

I didn’t even try to hide my moan. The girl was so insanely hot. A promise of heaven and a temptation sent directly from hell.

Right where I belonged.

Setting a knee on the bed, I leaned over to the side so I could trace that serpent tat on the outside of her thigh. My tongue ran along the lines while I slipped my hands beneath her shirt and dragged it up. My tongue followed the path as I lifted it over her head.

My entire body shook with quickly unraveling need. Control disintegrating.

Red was in nothing but a lacy black bra, which had to be illegal in all fifty states. Cruel and unjust punishment, because I just might die if I didn’t get to touch.

Those tits spilled out over the top while the distorted heart tattoo wept in the middle.

Ante omnia cor tuum custodi.

Urges hit me. Ones to kiss it until it was perfect and whole.

Shit.

I was losing my head. My foundation.

Consuming need twisted through me when I licked over the aching red, and I stole one hand under her back to undo the clasp. I moved back far enough to pull it free.

Her pulse ran wild and her chest heaved.

Quick to dive back in, I took a pink, pert nipple in my mouth. I sucked it deep, flicked at it with my tongue.

She wound her hands in my hair. “Shit…Lyrik…that feels so good.” She released a confused groan. “Why do you feel so good?”

I grinned against her skin. That’s exactly what I wanted to hear. That she felt good, that I was the only one making her feel that way.

My mouth trailed down the side of her breast. I lingered at one spot, drawing the silky flesh deep into my mouth. Maybe a little harder than necessary, but I was making sure to leave a mark. Because that’s what I promised her I would do.