Page 43 of Protected by the Fallen
I hate when I feel moisture gather in my eyes. “You wouldn’t be involved in any of this if it weren’t for me.”
“That’s not true.” He squeezes my hand. I feel his strong pulse through our laced fingers. “Whether Zeke and I wanted to or not, we’d be pulled into this mess. The Darkness isn’t a threat to take lightly, and even if we never met you, we would’ve returned to aide our fellow Dark Fallen.”
My guilt refuses to be alleviated. “What if The Darkness is my fault too?”
I remember the sorceress saying I’m the “cursed one”. I’m an abomination. What if the fact I exist throws off the balance between good and evil? What if my life tips the scales in favor of evil?
“Stop being ridiculous, Veronica.”
Uh oh. He used my full name. If his tight grip didn’t already tell me, I’d know my words angered him.
“It may be true,” I say. “We don’t even know who my parents are. Other than your mom claiming my birth mother is Light Fallen, we have no information about her or my father.”
The mention of parents makes me want to ask Adrian about his father. I mean… he’s admitted he and Zeke are different. He hasn’t explicitly told me about his father, but I’m starting to believe he will if I ask again,
I’ve decided I’m no longer angry he and Zeke kept the secret. I understand the urge to keep your cards close to your chest. Now, I just want to know what he thinks about his father’s heavenly status. But this isn’t the time. There are more pressing matters to address; like how to free him and Zeke from working for the council. If Sarah is right and the council is evil, we need to put distance between them and us.
Adrian steps closer.
“Don’t.” I cover his lips with my index finger. “Don’t say anything. I know you think I’m wrong. Let’s just drop the subject.” His eyes flash, but not with anger.
Suddenly the feel of his lips causes sparks to fly across my skin. His breath brushes against the pad of my finger, heightening the sensation. I release a tiny gasp, then lower my hand, but Adrian still holds my other hand, and he isn’t letting go.
Again, he steps closer. I swallow, feeling desire flow off his body and mold itself against my body. My mind goes fuzzy.
“How long are you going to make me wait for a kiss, Angel?”
My mind clears, and my lips part. “I’m sorry?”
He tugs my hand until it is pressed against his side. Less than an inch separates my chest from his. “How long are you going to make me wait for a kiss?” He stares at my lips. Fire dances across his expression.
How did the conversation come to this?
“A-are you waiting for me to make the move?”
“I’ve been waiting since the day we met.”
I remember Adrian joking for me to not make him wait too long until it was his turn for a kiss. That’s what I thought it was: a joke. Adrian doesn’t strike me as the kind of guy to wait for the girl to make the first move. He’s bold and brave, but also respectful. He’d never force his advances on someone who didn’t want them, but he’d have no problem being the first to initiate a kiss. Or so I thought.
Now, looking at his expression, seeing the hint of insecurity flickering behind his smoldering eyes, I think I may be wrong about him.
I lick my lips. Feeling bold, I murmur, “What if I was waiting for a kiss from you?”
“Then you should have said so.” His lips crash into mine like waves breaking on the shore, and I see stars. Not the stars of the sky, but stars of lust and hunger. Adrian presses me against him. The satin dress glides against my skin, taunting me with pleasurable friction.
Kissing Adrian feels like I’m in Heaven. A licentious and impassioned Heaven, but still the kind of Heaven I wouldn’t mind spending the rest of my days.
Adrian’s tongue darts between my lips, brushing against my tongue, and I feel my knees buckle. A muscular arm holds me tight, keeping me from sagging to the floor in a puddle. I mimic his move, and our tongues dance around each other in a frenzy of desire. Raising onto my toes, I wrap my arms around his neck. I never want to let him go. I never want him to stop kissing me.
Adrian bends down. Not breaking our kiss, he lifts me off the ground, placing me on the stone railing. My legs part, and he slides between them. I like the elevated position. I’m slightly higher than Adrian. Tilting my head to the side, I deepen the kiss, holding the sides of his head in my hands.
His palms are on my hips. One travels down my thigh, finding bare skin where the gown has bunched up. His fingers trail over my skin lightly, eliciting pleasant shivers. My legs press against his hips, and I draw him even closer. I could kiss him the rest of my life.
“You’re going to have to be the one to stop, Angel,” he growls against my mouth. He presses another kiss. “I won’t be able to.”
“Then don’t.” I crash our lips together again. There isn’t a part of me which wants this moment to end.
He growls. Strong hands wrap around my wrists and pull them away. He leans back, allowing air to flow between our chests.
