Iniquitous (The Marked #3)(50)

22. KNOCKING ON HEAVEN’S DOOR


Trace’s lips crashed against mine like a wave throwing itself against the shore—turbulent at first, and then slow and languid as he took me back out to sea with him. I’d like to say that I was strong enough to resist his current, that I fought against the wave that washed me under, but that would be a lie. I kissed him back hungrily, savoring the sweet taste of sugar and liquor on his lips as our mouths molded together in the most beautiful of tragic ways.

For that brief moment in time, there was no hurt from the past, no fear of tomorrow. It was just me and the beautiful boy I loved, vibrating seamlessly in the here and now.

“Trace,” I whimpered against his mouth as my hands moved over the planes of his bare chest. I meant for them to push against him, to stop us from going too far, but they seemed to have a mind of their own.

His eyes darkened as his tongue dipped past the small opening of my mouth.

A soft moan escaped my throat and suddenly, I was on my back, my skin pressing hard against the cold wooden floor. But I didn’t feel it. All I could feel was the warmth of his body covering mine, and the softness of his lips as he kissed me with enough heat to set the world on fire.

Lifting his knee, he eased my legs apart and lowered himself down between my thighs. My heart thundered at his nearness, at the unadulterated intimacy between us. I didn’t think it could get any better—feel any better with him, and then he dug his fingers into my hips and deepened the kiss into something that was so much more than a kiss.

There was no coming up for air then, no stopping to make sense out of any of this. We were moving full speed ahead in a vessel that had no breaks…

No hope for tomorrow.

He drew back, his eyes glowing like blue fire as he struggled to steady his breath. “Don’t talk like that, Jemma.”

“I didn’t say anything,” I reminded him as I tried to steal another kiss from his lips, but he wouldn’t give in to me.

“You know what I mean. There’s hope,” he insisted, though I wasn’t entirely sure he believed it himself.

“Is there?” I reached up and nipped his bottom lip. “Because I don’t feel it anymore,” I said without bothering to edit the truth. I didn’t see the point in pretending anymore. A future together was impossible now, utterly hopeless.

And I didn’t want to think about that. I didn’t want to exist inside that hopelessness. I just wanted to sink into this stolen moment with him and keep our doomed reality at bay.

“That’s just the bloodbond talking. You know that, right?”

“Maybe.” I tried and failed to kiss him again.

He leaned in and whispered hot in my ear. “I’m going to fix this, Jemma. I swear to God I will.”

My eyes slammed shut, chasing away images I didn’t want to see anymore. “Can we not do this right now?” I pleaded with him, my throat bone-dry. I didn’t want to hear this. I didn’t want to listen to empty promises I knew he couldn’t fulfil about a future we no longer had.

“It’s not an empty promise,” he answered, refusing to let up. “I’m not going to stop until I find a way to get you back. If magic created the bond, then magic can break it.”

He knew more than anyone that magic couldn’t be undone. It was false hope, and I didn’t want any part of it. “You’re drunk, Trace.”

“I may be drunk, but I still love you, Jemma. And I’m not giving you up.”

Hearing him say those words only made the vise-grip around my heart clamp down harder.

No more words.

Words hurt.

“I’m done talking, Trace.” I reached up and looped my arms around his neck, desperate to pull him back down to me—to kiss me and let our want for each other torch everything else around us. I shifted under him, grinding my hips against his. “Finish what you started.”

He let out a low, rumbling groan at the back of his throat.

“Kiss me,” I pushed.

“Not until you say it. I need to hear you say it.”

I had no idea what he wanted me to say and I was too afraid to ask him.

His thumb grazed my bottom lip, sending ripples of desire shooting through my body. “Tell me you still want me,” he said softly, staring down at me as pieces of his ebony hair fell between us. “Tell me we’re going to be together when this is over, just like we planned.”

My resolve was starting to buckle. I shook my head, barely able to look him in the eye.

The crackling sound of burning firewood filled the silence.

“So, you’ve already given up on us then?” His eyes glimmered as he unlatched my arms from his neck and pulled away from me, taking all hope of a temporary sanctuary right along with him. He sat back on his legs and stared across at me, his bare chest heaving at petrifying speeds.

The loss of his warmth immediately sobered me, brought me right back to my current living nightmare.

“There is no us anymore, Trace,” I snapped at him, angry that I wasn’t in his arms anymore; in his future. I pulled my knees up to my chest and hugged them. “Don’t you get it? We’re nothing but a pipedream now. I’m bonded to Dominic for the rest of my life, and it’s only going to get stronger with every passing day. We’re literally on borrowed time and the clock is ticking faster than I can even stand.” I swallowed the burn at the back of my throat. “So tell me again how we’re going to be together? Tell me how this isn’t hopeless!”