Page 77 of At the Mercy of Midnight
His hand tightened against her waist as the feelings she unwittingly shared with him escalated his own. He swallowed, feeling pieces of his control being chipped away. It was the way she looked at him, her chest rising and falling quickly, the way her skin felt impossibly smooth under his fingers when he shifted them to the small of her back.
Would she let him kiss her again?
He was haunted by the echoes of their kiss in his lab, but he wanted it to bereal. That kiss had felt fuelled by something else. It had happened so fast it now felt like a memory of a dream. Silas wanted to touch her slowly, to feel and remember every agonisingly wonderful second. He wanted to test the shape of her mouth with his own. To feel her melt against him, to make all those terribly high walls come crumbling down, forhim. He wanted her to feel safe enough with him to be who she truly was. He wantedherlike he had never wanted anything else in his life.
Silas tilted his head closer, until their noses were a breath away from brushing. He moved slowly, giving her the opportunity to shift or ask him to stop.
Amelia said nothing.
She inhaled unsteadily before her eyes fluttered shut, and it was she who tilted her head a fraction backwards, lining up their mouths.
She would let him.
His heart fluttered like a wild, caged bird in his chest as his eyes moved to her lips, so close to his he would only need to move an inch to erase the distance.
Silas moved forwards, easing to the side at the last moment so that his mouth grazed at the redness on her cheekbone. Amelia twitched underneath him at the touch, her soft breath loud beside his ear.
Her hands released the edges of the dresser, moving to take either side of his waist, fingers digging in almost painfully. He welcomed it, her touch.
Silas used his hold on the underside of her jaw to tilt her head to the side, giving him unfettered access to the slope of her neck. He brushed his lips past the line of her jaw and down the column of her throat, delighting in every sensation of being so close to her.
The feel of her skin against his mouth.
The smell of her hair surrounding him.
The rapid pace of Amelia’s breaths as she let him explore her.
The surge of arousal which was so strong, Silas didn’t know if it came from him, or her…or if it was a combination of both. It was strong enough that he groaned against her skin before opening his mouth to graze his teeth there in a gentle bite.
“Oh,” Amelia breathed, and that one small sound nearly undid him.
He used his hand that sat in the small of her lower back to pull her body towards him until they were flush with one another.
He couldn’t wait any longer.
Silas pulled away from her neck to look down at her parted lips, knowing that this woman had the power to ruin him.
Amelia’s eyes flew open just before he could bring their mouths together, and he paused, seeing the hesitation on her face.
Silas shifted back a little more, trying to assess amidst the haze of desire.
She licked at her lips, a hand sliding from his waist and up the centre of his chest, her eyes shifting to watch the progress of her fingers moving up the front of his shirt.
“Do you think…” she whispered breathily, “…when you said last night that it was the bond, making you want me.” Silas felt some of the heat draining from his body at her words, felt his fingers slacken against her. “Do you think that’s what this is?”
Amelia’s eyes lifted to his.
“Do you?” he asked because he knew his answer, but he needed to know hers.
She both shrugged and nodded. His heart sank.
“I…I didn’t feel this way, before the cut,” she said softly, “and neither did you, right?”
Silas let her go, stepping away from her. The cold that rushed across his body was wholly unwelcome when compared to the heat of being pressed against her. Amelia’s hands fell away from him, and she glanced up, looking both relieved and disappointed.
His own disappointment swelled uncontrollably. If she wanted to blame the bond, she could go right ahead, but Silas wouldn’t.
He shook his head, watching as her brow furrowed. “No, that’s not right at all.”
