by RuNyx .
Was he pointing his gun at her?
Her chest grew heavy.
Was he thinking it over?
Lead settled in her stomach.
Was he about to pull that trigger and end her misery? Was her last act on earth going to be putting her trust in the wrong man, yet again?
Her heart thudded.
Should she have just run away and lived her entire life with the regret of never knowing, never exploring the possibility between them? Could she have lived better without offering him a semblance of closure?
Her body started trembling.
Seconds, minutes, hours. Suspended between them. Between his choice and hers.
Memories, moments, an entire history. Stuck between them. Between his choice and hers.
Questions, doubts, fears. Settling between them. Between his choice and hers.
Silence.
She was coming undone, bit by bit. She was fraying apart at the edges, bit by bit. She was imploding in on herself, bit by bit.
She needed him to make a choice. She needed him to choose her like he'd chosen her years ago. She needed him to choose her – because, after the day she'd had, her father trying to kill her like her life was worthless, she needed him to choose her, not for her life, but herself.
Silence.
A change in the air around her.
The scent of wood and musk.
The warmth of a breath over her face.
And then she felt it.
Lips.
Soft, tender lips settling upon hers.
Her heart stopped.
It fucking stopped as her stomach bottomed out.
Her gasp got stuck in her throat as her lips started to tremble against his, her eyes stinging, her heart full.
She didn’t dare open her eyes, fearful that this would stop, that he would stop. She didn’t dare open her eyes, fearful that the moment would be shattered never to be realized again. She didn’t dare open her eyes, fearful of the tear that hung on the threshold of her lashes.
She didn’t dare breathe.
And he brushed those soft lips against her, before settling again.
She squeezed her eyes shut, her breaths hastening, fingers curling into her palms to keep from touching him since he wasn’t touching her, even as she tilted her head back as far as it would go, letting his lips lock with hers better.
A cold drop of rain fell on her cheek. Thunder rent the sky.
She parted her lips, feeling the shape, the make, the beauty of his. He captured her bottom one, sucking on it lightly before brushing her lips again.
The rain came down, drenching them both within seconds.
She let go of that tear in her eye, letting it mingle with the rain, the tremors of her lips evident against his. His mouth pressed onto hers more firmly, no other parts of his body touching hers. The scruff around his lips chafed across hers in a way that sent her flesh tingling, wondering about places his mouth could go and how that delicious scruff would feel, making her sway forward slightly.
Morana tilted her head instinctively to the side, her hands shaking as fire rushed through her veins from that minimal contact of his lips.
He kissed her – softly, simply, expertly.
He kissed her – until her knees turned to jelly and heat invaded her belly.
He kissed her – without his tongue, without his hands, without his body.
Just his lips – soft, firm, present – on hers.
It was the most beautiful kiss she could have ever dreamed of, the most untainted she’d ever imagined from him, with a softness she’d not thought him capable of. With his intensity, with his blazing eyes, the silent promises had been of devouring.
This wasn’t devouring.
This was savoring.
He was savoring her lips, memorizing her taste, introducing himself to her so much more intimately than he ever had. Her toes curled even as her heart clenched, pulse throbbing all over her body.
The rain poured all over them, the scent of wet earth rising and mingling with the scent of him, invading her senses, burying itself under her skin, making her breasts heavy and a flame ignite deep in her core.
He kissed her for long, long moments – as chaste as kisses could be, yet she felt it down to her soul.
And then, she felt the cool tip of his gun, stroking over her face, the metal kissing her wet skin from temple to jaw.
She pulled back slightly, just an inch, to find those magnificent blue eyes on her in an inferno, his shadowed face wet, lips a little swollen, stark against his scruff.
Her eyes drifted to the big gun in his large hand, surprise filling her as she saw his knuckles – the skin freshly broken over them, raindrops streaking down over the tumefied flesh. The contradiction – of him in his suit and tie while sporting bruised knuckles getting drenched in the rain – thralled her. Who had he been hitting so hard before coming here?
He put a little pressure on her jaw with his gun, demanding that her eyes return to his silently.
Morana obliged, aware of his finger on the trigger and the gun at her jugular.
And yet, she’d given him the choice.
He traced her swollen mouth with the tip of his gun, once, before settling it back under her jaw.
He looked down at her face for long moments as she kept her head tilted up, his weapon underneath on her neck, their bodies wet and close but not pressed to each other. The cold wind and water sizzled over her heated skin, running down her hot breast, the contrast erecting her nipples almost painfully. Her heart started beating faster than it already was, the need inside her, for so many things, coming to the fore. His eyes caught it, the fire in them singeing her, inflaming before her very own.
Before she could blink, his mouth was upon hers, prying her lips open with his tongue, flicking her tongue in a movement she felt between her legs. Clenching her thighs together to relieve the throbbing, she closed her eyes and went up on her toes, instinctively allowing him more.
And then, he devoured her.
Fulfilling every promise his eyes had ever made to her.
He devoured her in the rain, with his gun beneath her jaw.
He devoured her while tasting like the whiskey and sin she heard in his voice.
He devoured her without touching another inch of her body, stroking her tongue with his, tasting her so thoroughly her legs weakened, her hands catching onto the lapels of his jacket to keep herself upright, not touching his skin like he wasn’t touching hers, yet letting him support her.
Electric.
There was no other word for it.
It sizzled. It sparked. It consumed.
His scruff rasped over her wet skin, lips meshing together as heat infused her, and she knew she would carry the evidence of that burn around her mouth later. She wanted that evidence. She wanted him to look at her reddened flesh tomorrow and feel the heat in his body like she would every time she saw it. She wanted him to look at her swollen lips and remember the invisible line he crossed with her. She wanted him to look at her and remember that first kiss in the rain.
Holding onto his wet jacket, she sucked on his tongue, inviting him deeper, and got her lower lip nipped in response, the gun kissing her skin, sliding down from her jaw, down the slope of her neck, down her cleavage, to stop between her breasts.
It stopped above her heart, making it jump out of her chest even as he kept ravaging her mouth, all his heat, his intensity, pouring over her along with the rain.
A shiver ran down her spine, her fingers fisting the fabric of his jacket, her lips trembling against his, and he pulled back.
Morana opened her eyes, stunned at the force of that kiss, stunned at her own reaction, stunned at him.
She saw his lips, swollen, wearing the evidence of her wild mouth, and her skin heated, her nipples pebbling even harder, even with the gun pressed to her heart.
His jaw clenched, a vein popping on the side of his head as his eyes pierced hers for a long moment. She held his
gaze, never blinking once, the water sluicing down their faces as they stared at each other.
He stayed unmoving for a beat, then two, their lips hovering right next to each other, neither making the move, their eyes on each other before he closed his eyes for a small second.
He closed his eyes, for that small second.
His Adam’s apple bobbed above the knot of his tie, for that small second.
And then his arm went down.
A breath Morana hadn’t known she’d been holding escaped her in a rush.
He stepped back, not looking into her eyes again, leaving her to be kissed by the cold rain and chilled air, his jacket falling out of her grip as he bent down swiftly to retrieve her gun from the muddy ground.
Standing back up to his full height, his white shirt plastered to his torso, wet skin and ink peeking underneath the transparent fabric, making Morana swallow reflexively, he extended her own gun back to her. Morana let her eyes rove away from his chest to his red-knuckled hand that was making her heavy gun look small.
She took it from him silently, her fingers brushing his, sending tingles up her arm.
He didn’t react, as was usual with him.
He also didn’t look into her eyes, which was unusual.
He just turned on his heel and headed towards his huge vehicle, the rain pelting down on his imposing figure in the utter night, after kissing the breath out of her.
‘I get my mouth on you, you’ll never be the same.’
His words came back to her. He’d been right.
Morana looked down at the gun he’d picked up for her and handed back to her.
She’d wanted something. He’d given it to her, in a way only he could. He’d not uttered a word. But he’d made his choice. So had she.
Taking a deep breath in, Morana swallowed, stepping forward.
And she followed him into the dark.
###
To be continued in The Reaper, coming in July 2020.
Thank you for reading this book. If you’ve enjoyed it, please recommend it to a friend and leave a review.
ACKNOWLEDGMENT
I want to thank many people for making this book, and me, possible. This book has been a labor of love spanning many years. Owing to that, I would first and foremost like to thank each and every one of my readers who have stuck with me through the years. Every single comment, ask, tweet, kudos, message, all of it. I can never put into words how much your love and support means to me. You all have helped me go through some of the darkest times of my life, and every day you inspire me. Thank you will never be enough to convey all of what I feel for you. All I hope is to continue telling stories you will enjoy.
Secondly, I want to thank my parents for always encouraging me to thrive and for believing in me, even when times were hard and there were bumps along the way. Your love shows me the way every day. Thank you for loving me so unconditionally.
I also want to thank Nelly for being the absolute superstar that you are. I’ve said this countless times, and I will again – your vision and your talent just blow my mind. Thank you for giving this story such a beautiful cover, something even beyond my wildest dreams.
On the same note, I want to thank my editor and proofreader, M.T. Smith (who’s asked me not to mention her full name). Thank you for your enthusiasm and for respecting my writing style, as odd as it seemed to you in the beginning.
And last, but not the least, I want to thank you, T. Chances of you reading this are slim, but if you are, you know what you mean to me. Thank you for making me realize that soulmates exist. Keep believing.
And to you, my new readers. I hope this book gave you a great escape for a few hours. Thank you for choosing to read me.
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