Page 118 of The Dark Before Light

“Oh, for fuck’s—” I yelp as he tackles me backward. His palm cups my head, preventing it from slamming into the wood.

“Birdie,” he murmurs silkily, his nose running along mine. He leans back just enough for our eyes to connect in the candlelight. “My fragile hummingbird who grew into a lioness. My warrior queen. Fuck science—I know in my heart that we’re magic. My gran brought us together that day and spoke her last prophecy through me. You took a piece of me with you, and now I’m whole again.”

Tears roll from the corners of my eyes. Kieran catches them with his thumbs before they reach my hair.

“I’m so mad right now,” I whisper through quivering lips. “You hijacked my romantic gesture.”

His smile makes my toes curl. Lips grazing mine, he whispers, “Marry me, Talia.”

I’m sure he can feel my heart thrashing against his chest, just like I can feel his. Elation and panic make me tremble.

My voice wavers. “We’ve been in a relationship for four weeks. And that’s being generous. Impulsivity is also a well-known symptom of PTSD. You might feel differently in a few months.”

“Is that so, Dr. Stirling?”

I choke on a breath as he rolls his hips against my center. Sparkling waves of heat spread through me.

“You know what I think?” he continues, his eyes sober and focused. “I think I’ve never been more sure of anything as I am of the fact you’re mine and I’m yours. I’m putting babies in you. We’re growing old together. The end.”

More heat pulses through me, this time with my heart as the source. I wrap my legs around his hips.

“In that case, ask me again in a year.”

A smile plays around his mouth. “I can do that.”

I grin and pat his cheek. “Such a good boy.”

He laughs, the unfettered, joyous sound rippling across my skin, stretching my grin even wider. When his mirth fades, he gazes down at me with carnal intent. My breathing turns choppy as he lifts his hips from mine. Sliding a hand between us, he cups me through soaked linen. The base of his palm moves in slow circles over my clit as his fingers stroke me through layers of fabric.

“I think I deserve a treat,” he says huskily. “Since I’m such a good boy.”

I’m panting now. “Yes, I think you do.”

He observes my hips circling against his palm, his cock turning to steel against my thigh. When he licks his full lower lip, I’m surprised my clothes don’t start steaming.

His eyes flash to mine. “Actually, a treat isn’t going to fill me up. I deserve a feast.”

I moan breathlessly. “Don’t leave any crumbs.”

“Like I’d ever waste a single morsel of you,” he murmurs.

He peels off my wet clothes and his, then adjusts me so I’m propped on the cushions. Warm, strong hands grip the backs of my thighs, lifting and spreading my legs. Diving forward, he breathes me in, hot breath fanning my center.

“Mmm, delicious.”

I try to lift myself to his mouth, but his grip keeps me pinned. “Kieran,” I whine.

“Tell me a secret, Birdie.” His breath and the vibration of his voice make my pussy clench. I’m embarrassingly close to orgasming from air.

I admit softly, “I fell in love with you when I was fourteen and a part of me never stopped loving you.”

He flicks my clit with his tongue, sending electric currents zinging through my limbs. I gasp, my head arching back.

“Another.”

“I was twenty-three when I saw your face on the cover of a magazine. I almost passed out in the grocery store checkout lane. I bought it and read the article a thousand times. I still have it in a box under my bed.”

A rumble of pleasure in his throat, he drags his tongue up my slit. But the pressure is nonexistent and he avoids my clit.

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