Page 44 of Of Poison & Pumpkins
“World’s best nickname,” he whispers.
If I look at those brown eyes, I won’t be able to contain myself anymore. The need to kiss him is an overwhelming pulse dictating my thoughts. If I taste his lips, I’ll never be the same again. I’ll never be okay with not having him as mine. I’ll never be able to let him walk away.
“Look, twist the needle around like this.”
Instead, Elias leans closer, and his scent fills my everything. All I can breathe is him. A shiver runs up my thighs.
His piercing gaze travels down my body like he’s addicted to the way my body reacts to him, then back up again. He slowly wraps the loose end of the yarn around my wrists once, twice. Heat sparks hot in my belly and tingles run up my inner thighs. Goddess Above, I’d let this man do anything to me—tie my ankles together and hang me upside down, strap me to a chair, hook me up to shackles. Imagining it gives me gooseflesh all over.
At this moment, Elias owns me, body and soul. Every sensation belongs to him. He bites my shirt and tugs the sleeve off my shoulder. He’s my puppet master, pressing all my buttons with the slip of his tongue against my collarbone.
“Oooh …” I moan. Which is unacceptable. No more of that, thank you very much.
“Distracted enough, Sunflower?” His voice is in full teasing mode, which is when I realize my eyes are closed.
I drop the needles, and they clatter to the floor. My neck cranes up, exposing the softest parts of me to his wicked mouth.
“That’s right, relax,” Elias whispers against my neck as he draws more seductive lines with his tongue, clutching my waist hard with his hands.
“Tie my hands to the bedpost,” I manage to say between whimpers.
“You serious?” He pulls back fast.
My eyes snap open. Raw hunger flashes in his gaze. I’ve never seen his chest rise and fall so fast. My own heartbeat is exploding, threatening to burst free.
“You sure?” Elias licks his lips, breaking me. “I will not do this if you’ll regret it later. You must be positive, Rynnlee, because I won’t restrain you if you’re not willing.”
“Yes. Now.” I pant, surprised by how much I want this, how much it turns me on. “And make me ask three times before you untie me.”
In unison with his growl, I’m quickly thrown onto my back. Pressed against the mattress, my wrists collide. Yarn tightens around my skin. Pulls tighter. Tighter. There’ll be red lines there later. At this angle, all I can see are the ceiling’s windows being attacked by rainfall.
“Try to escape,” Elias practically growls again, eyes wild as he moves into a straddle above me. I don’t think I’ve ever held eye contact with someone for this long.
Raw desire whips up my center. I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from thrusting my hips up. I try to wiggle, writhe, and pull against the yarn. It doesn’t give. A look of sheer success covers his features, and I can’t help but soak in his excitement.
“Excellent,” he murmurs as he lowers his face towards mine. “But unfortunately for you, I won’t be touching you until you tell me how much you want me.”
I buck my hips against his obvious erection, driven mad by his weight.
“Kiss me,” I demand with frustration, eyes still locked onto his.
“Goddess, Rynnlee, I’ve imagined you saying that hundreds of times, and no fantasy compares to how that sounded.” He positions both palms on the mattress by my ears. “But say it again, with my name.”
“Kiss me like in my dreams,” I whisper, raising my head a little. “Kiss me like I’m your last first kiss.”
A strangled groan rips from his throat. But he doesn’t make a move. He’s taking too long. I’m reaching my snapping point. Desire pulses through my veins like a shockwave. Like a current. Like a volcano ready to erupt.
I lift my head and press my mouth to his, more delicate than a butterfly, like a soft experiment, testing the connection.
In one sweep, his hand cradles the back of my neck to deepen our kiss. It’s like I’m his first encounter with hunger. His tongue eases against mine, exploring, and I swear to the Goddess that he tastes like magic and dreamsicle ice cream. Like sunlight and lazy days and golden specs.
I’ve imagined every way his kiss might feel. And nothing prepared me for this. I arch my back off the bed. The yarn yanks at my wrists, but I don’t give a shit. He drops onto his forearms, burying me under his chest, pelvis, legs. If only I could rip his clothes off. I can’t get enough. Want him to smother me. If I die, I die. His skin is so warm and his lips work like an angel fallen from grace, cunning and corrupt. I’m hooked. Obsessed forevermore.
“Fuck, Lias,” I gasp between kisses.
“Mmmmmmm,” is all he manages as our legs entwine like pretzels.
His mouth strips me of all rational thought. My breathing grows faster, but his matches mine. Every inch of me is alive, awake, wanting. His grip grows more intense, more possessive. And yet, I crave more. More. Damn it all. I want to tear off his suspenders, rip off his shirt, and see what is mine. Because this is it. He’s mine and I’m not letting him get away. No fucking chance.
