Page 20 of A Spark in the Ash

A darkling and an ultralight with their hands…everywhere.

My hands rise to lace through his hair, and I swear, if he ever cuts it, I will be devastated. I tip my head back, resting it against the sandstone wall behind me, and without missing a beat, Jaxon’s lips trail down to my jaw, then to my neck. He kisses his way from the hollow behind my ear, down over the ridges of my throat, all the way to the dip between my collar bones.

My eyes roll into the back of my head. This is bliss. This is heaven. This is everything I’ve dreamed about since that very first night in the club.

Jaxon’s hands grow hotter. The temperature of his lips rises.

And suddenly, he’s scorching me.

He backs away in an instant, and I nearly fall to the ground, only catching myself at the last second.

“Jaxon…” I breathe out through bruised and swollen lips.

He shakes his head as he backs away another five steps. His hands rise to lace into his hair. And light splinters over his hands. “Serena, I…”

I take a step forward as determination steels my blood. “You’ve got this, Jaxon. I trust you. I’m not afraid.”

His eyes rise back up to meet mine, and they’re filled with heat and resolve.

“I don’t care,” I say recklessly as I take another step toward him. “Don’t stop.”

I snake a hand behind his neck and crush my lips to his again. His hands are blazing as they come to my lower back once more. My lips burn as they mold with his.

The darkling within me is franticly trying to escape, to defend me against this ultralight.

And shadows begin to creep out of me. I keep them at bay, from attacking Jaxon, but they curl around us, encasing us in darkness.

Jaxon moans in ecstasy and frustration as I spin him, taking him down to the ground. As I shove him back, so he is lying on his back looking up at me, light splinters over his entire chest and abdomen.

This shouldn’t be turning me on. This shouldn’t make me want to touch him all the more. It shouldn’t make me crave the pain his touch is going to create.

But it does.

I climb up him, straddling his waist, one knee on either side of his hips. I take my hands to his lower abdomen, relishing in the smooth surface of his skin.

My hands are turning black already, marked by his ultralight burn. Slowly, my shadows caress his body, leaving black lightning streaks across his skin. But the pain is bearable. The high of touching him once again outweighs it, and I don’t know if he’s even aware of what my shadows are doing to him.

“Serena,” Jaxon says, his concern for me growing.

“Shh,” I say, sliding my hands up his body.

He gives a groan of acceptance and defeat as he tips his head back, letting me have my way.

It’s also a move of concentration. Because as my hands slowly rise higher, the fissures of light across his skin begin to recede.

My shadows grow larger. The juxtaposition of his light being encased in my shadows is kind of beautiful.

I make my way up the ridges of his abdominal muscles. They begin their climb up over his chest.

Jaxon’s body is a work of art. He’s a study in human perfection, made complex by the scars he bears. Stars, all the fantasies I’ve had about how I wanted to touch this body.

I never knew I was this bold. I never knew I was this assertive. I only ever kissed my long-dead fiancé four times and haven’t touched a man since.

I’m learning who I am with Jaxon.

“You’re going to make me lose my damn mind, woman,” Jaxon grunts as my hands crest around the sides of his neck. I shift my weight forward, giving him a wicked smile before I take his lips as mine once more.

Jaxon’s hands come to my back, to my bare skin since my top has ridden up. His hands are hot, but at the moment, they don’t burn me. But his fingers dig in possessively.

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