Page 73 of Keeper

She doesn’t pull away. Instead, she gives my hand a gentle squeeze. That simple gesture—so small, yet so profound—breaks something inside me. The dam I’ve spent summers building.

I don’t cry. I can’t remember the last time I allowed myself that weakness, yet I relax in ways I haven’t since I was sent to war.

Everly shifts closer, her free hand coming up to rest on my arm. “It’s all right. You’re allowed to feel, Cenric.”

How long has it been since someone told me that? Since someone looked at me and saw not just the warrior, but the man beneath?

I turn to her, drinking in the sight of her face—the compassion in her eyes, the curve of her lips, and before I can stop myself, I lean down and kiss her.

Chapter

Forty

EVERLY

He’s kissing me again!

I shift to wrap my arms around Cenric’s shoulders, to hold him close as his hands roam my back, leaving trails of delicious heat.

This kiss is different from our first. There’s an urgency to it, a desperation that makes my head spin and my heart race. I pour everything I feel for him into it—my longing, my desire, my need to be here for him.

His mouth moves hungrily against mine, and I lose myself in the feel, the taste of him. That wild, untamed taste.

Boldly, his arms tighten around me, bringing me closer, as though I am his bulwark, the force that keeps his storms at bay.

Maybe I am.

Empowered, I take control, sliding my tongue along his bottom lip. He groans, opening for me, and I explore his mouthas my hands roam over his broad shoulders, down his arms, feeling the strength there.

His hand tangles in my hair, while the other slides down to grip my backside. I gasp against his lips, heat flooding through me.

He breaks free from our kiss, only to trail slow, deliberate ones down my neck.

Yes.

More.

Instinctively, my fingers tighten in his thick hair, grasping the strands as he continues his exploration, nibbling, kissing, sending tremors through me. Each brush of his mouth, each graze of his teeth, sends quakes of desire rippling through my body. I lose myself in the rush of sensations, on the sea of yearning.

His hand cups my jaw, tilting my head back as his mouth claims mine again in a searing kiss.

So, this is what losing yourself feels like? Letting go. Surrendering. Giving into the burning. The flames. The embers.

Does he feel the fire too?

No, heisthe fire.

Cenric’s kiss grows more urgent as his hands roam my body. I gasp as he cups my breast through the fabric of my surcoat, his thumb circling, teasing. A moan escapes me as he finds my nipple, and pleasure shoots through me.

I clutch at his shoulders, steadying myself as his fingers work their magic. Each brush, each pinch sends a fresh wave of desire crashing over me.

His other hand grips my hip. I grind against him, seeking more, needing more. More of what? I’m not even sure.

But I know I want it. I wanthim.

Boldly, I explore his body, feeling the hard muscles of his arms, the broad expanse of his chest. He’s all strength and power, a lethal weapon in battle, and now, a lethal weapon against my senses—a body made for sin and slaughter.

His hand slides up my thigh, pushing my surcoat and undergarment out of the way. His fingers find my center, stroking, teasing.

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