Page 59 of The Lightkeeper

Aurora stood in the doorway, her cheeks stained with pink, her eyes glistening beneath the rims of her glasses. The wind took her dark curls and sent them fluttering around her face. The bow I’d fixed in her hair was long gone.

She shook her head. “No, I’m not leaving?—”

“You have to!” I roared and grabbed her upper arms, hauling her right to me like a glutton for punishment.

“I’m not here to study you, Kit. I’m here to support you. Stop pushing me away.” She fought back with her brave words.

“Pushing you—” I broke off with a bitter laugh, lowering my head so our noses just touched. “There is no supporting me. No fixing me.No understanding me,” I declared with a low, raw voice and then covered her mouth with mine, spearing into her soft warmth like I could scorch every inch from ever having wanted my touch.

I kissed her like a lunatic, lust and loathing whipping through me with gale force, not caring that the door was open. Not caring that the wind howled through the house. Not caring about anything except her warmth.

Her tongue met mine, tangled and dueled, stroked and seduced. She was smart. Weeks of steady observation and dozens of kisses meant she knew how to be just as punishing as I did, but in a way that was deceptively alluring. The heat of her mouth drew me in. Soft and warm, she drew my tongue to every corner, letting me uncover moan after moan of pleasure.

I crowded her back toward the door even as I held her tighter, at war with myself whether to send her away or pull her closer.

Her small hands clutched my shirt, the heat of them sinkingthrough the damn fabric.

Fuck.

I pulled back with a deep groan. Removing my lips from hers was like peeling the flesh off my bones.How had she become so necessary? So vital? How had she become the only thing that kept the darkness at bay?

“This isn’t an experiment anymore, Aurora,” I rasped, my forehead pressed to hers, our heavy breaths colliding into a fog between us. I searched for her eyes. Wide, bright, wanting. “You need to go.” And she needed to have the strength to do it because I, apparently, didn’t.

“No.”

A shudder cracked through my big frame, my voice coming out even more hoarse than before. “If you stay, I won’t stop.”

Her eyes opened a fraction wider, understanding the implication.The warning.

“If I leave, I’ll never know,” came her soft reply.

A groan ripped from my chest. “You should be afraid.”Of me. Of this.

I’d just thrown her to the ground, dragging her into my own personal nightmare without warning.How many ways did I need to spell it out that I was dangerous?

“I was once.” She slid her arms around my neck, her fingers curling into the hair at my nape. “I’m not anymore.”

And then she pulled my mouth back to hers, braving my darkness like the sun charges through the horizon to fight off the night.

I’d warned her.So many fucking times, I’d warned her of the danger.But she got close to me anyway. Closer and closer to my sharp and craggy shores, braving the swells of my stoicism and solitude.

I’d warned her. It couldn’t be my fault that she didn’t heed my warning.

Chapter Fourteen

Aurora

I wouldn’t letthis man go back into his shell. Not when he had so much to give. So many people who cared about him. So much life that he deserved.So much light he brought to the world.I didn’t know exactly what happened back at Ailene’s, but logical deduction gave me a pretty good idea. Fireworks weren’t a good idea around someone who had PTSD.

Tomorrow, I’d wake up with some bumps and bruises from having been less-than-glamorously tackled to the ground, but none of that mattered compared to how much I would hurt if I couldn’t reach him—if I couldn’t be with him now.

I grabbed hold of his arms—his shirt—anything to hang onto and let my grip dig deep. I’d take whatever he had to give, no matter how sharp and shattered it was, no matter how many cuts and scrapes I’d leave with. I wasn’t going to walk away from the chance to know all of him, including every broken piece.

“Aurora…” he growled, slanting his mouth over mine.

He kissed me like the oxygen in my lungs was the source of hissurvival. His hands cupped my face, angling my head until the kiss became so deep I didn’t know where I ended and he began. It seemed impossible, but it wasn’t. All the logical foundations in my brain crumbled against Kit’s touch.

His other kisses had been fervent. Demanding. Ravenous. But this one was desperate—as though my kiss was the only safe place for him right now.As though I was the only safe place for him now.

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