Page 112 of The Devil's Trials

Something in me latches onto the challenge. “Why’s that?”

“I don’t have to give you a reason. ‘No’ is a complete sentence.”

I whistle softly. “Are you this snarky with that hunter of yours?”

She freezes at the mention of Noah, dropping her gaze as her heart lurches, and she shakes her head as if to herself. Just when I think she’s going to refuse me, she looks back up. “Meet me downstairs.”

Surprise flares in my chest and my brows lift. “Really? I thought it’d take more convincing. Maybe a bit of quippy banter.”

She rolls her eyes and walks past me. “Prepare to have your ass handed to you.”

I have no doubt it’s a false bravado, but I’m thoroughly entertained by her display of confidence.

After stopping in my room to change into a T-shirt and joggers, I head to the gym to find Camille finishing a warmup on the treadmill. My gaze locks on the green workout set that clings to her and shows off a sliver of her stomach, and I have to bite back a possessive growl as I devour her with my eyes. Her heart is beating steadily, and I can’t help the urge to prowl toward her and—

Her eyes meet mine, and my train of thought halts as she swallows hard, stepping off the machine. I start across the gym, and we meet near the middle of the room, an open space with padded flooring.

“Ready when—”

The words aren’t out of my mouth before Camille dives into action. She launches herself at me, kicking out hard with her right leg, and manages to hit the back of my knee while I’m still consumed by surprise. I grunt at the shock of contact more than discomfort, then instantly correct my footing and stalk toward her.

“You’ll have to do better than that,mo shíorghrá,” I taunt.

Anticipation flashes in her eyes as her pulse thrums wildly, and she drops to her haunches, lunging forward and effectively taking my legs out from under me. We topple to the mats, and she grabs a fistful of my hair as she straddles my hips, wrapping her other hand around my throat. Sweat dots her brow and upper lip, her chest heaving above me as she visibly tries to catch her breath.

I make no effort to move. My own pulse is ticking faster, blood pumping harder as I fight the urge to abandon our fight for the chance to taste her. Her lips, her skin, her—

Fuck me.

Swallowing against her palm, I murmur, “Impressive.”

Her breath catches, and she freezes over me, her gaze snared in mine. I don’t wait a moment longer, moving in a blur and flipping us over to pin Camille to the floor. My thighs press on either side of her hips, and I grip her wrists as her pulse jackhammers, though she doesn’t immediatelyattempt to get free. She stares up at me silently while her heart beats like thunder in her chest, her lips parted as she breathes hard.

I could taunt her with the easy victory. Challenge her to fight me off.

Instead, I dip my face and capture her lips with mine.

Camille tenses beneath me, but any semblance of resistance is quickly lost as she closes her eyes and kisses me back.

My pulse thrums and energy zips through my veins like the most highly addictive drug as I switch my grip on Camille’s wrists to one hand, then bury the other in her hair. Deepening the kiss, my tongue darts out, sweeping across her lips before they part to let me in.

We fight for control of the kiss, no doubt bruising each other’s lips as we silently agree to let go of everything else but this moment. The bond between our souls was broken when I lost mine, but I feel as close to Camille as I did the first night we spent together. Even as everything else changed, what I feel for her never has.

I can’t pinpoint the exact moment I fell for Camille Morgan, but I know down to the marrow of my bones that I remain entirely in love with her even now.

That stark, quite possibly fatal admission has my heart pounding faster as the distant pang of fear edges me closer to losing myself. The control I have over my desire for Camille frays as I move my knee between her legs, pressing it to her core. I’m immediately rewarded with a gasp against my lips, and I use every ounce of willpower I have to keep from tearing her leggings off and burying myself inside her.

“If we don’t stop…” I trail off, voice low and deep with arousal. “It’s taking everything I have not to reacquaint myself with every inch of you right here.”

Camille pulls her bottom lip between her teeth, blinking her eyes open. I can see the fight she’s having with herself. She wants this as much as I do, despite the nagging voice I think we both hear telling us that crossing that line will only lead to more pain.

She swallows hard. “We can’t.”

Disappointment is a punch to the gut, but I nod. I need to shake the remnants of anxiety crackling through me. I can’t think about the reasons my pulse is racing or my chest feels like it’s about to explode. Not now. “Perhaps we should get back on task.”

Her brows lift. “Wha—”

“You want to show me that you can protect yourself against my kind. So please, go ahead.”

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