Page 55 of The Enemy to the Living
I want him.
I’m not surprised by that, just by the intensity of it. I’ve hardly had the energy to notice a hot guy since… everything, and I’ve not been healing mentally or emotionally, not really, but maybe it’s been long enough that those urges have reappeared all the same.
But the way my stomach flutters, heart quickening when Asher groans and shifts, rolling slightly towards me as he begins to wake up…
Fuck. He called me pup. He’s a member of the Hunt, and he must think I’m no more than a child, and—
“Morning,” Asher says before he even opens his eyes. His voice is deep and rough, and he rubs a hand over his face, fingers scratching over dark blond stubble. An embarrassing whimper escapes me before I can even think to stop it.
Immediately, Asher’s eyes snap open. He takes me in with a glance, brow furrowing.
“Is it the pain? Where hurts?”
Pain? Yeah, I can still feel the way everything aches, but that’s secondary to this sudden desire clawing its way up my throat. I suck in a shallow breath and Asher reaches out gently, resting a hand on my chest.
“Breathe, Quinn,” he murmurs. “Everything’s okay. You’re safe here.”
I know that. Fuck, Iknowthat. And I’m not wearing my T-shirt—I took it off last night, I think—so his hand is scorching hot against my skin.
Asher closes his eyes, brow furrowed in concentration, and then his touch tingles, warmth spreading through my body, sweeping away the pain. I take another breath. Another. The pain being gone, for now, means that I’m just more aware of how close he is, how every breath fills my lungs with his scent, how I want to—
I jerk back and Asher’s eyes open again.
“Okay?” he asks. He watches me warily. He doesn’t want to spook me.
He’s helped me more than anyone else I know these past few weeks. Oh, maybe I’ll think about it later and spend hours dwelling on the fact that that’s nottheirfault, that I’ve been pushing everyone away, but Asher—
He pushed back. He keeps pushing back.
“Quinn,” Asher says, and there’s a slightly frantic edge to his voice now. “Are you okay? Please, give me something.”
Something? Heat floods through me, and I lean in and press our mouths together before I can think better of it.
Asher goes entirely still. I move my mouth slowly, and all I can hear is blood rushing in my ears. His exhale shakes against my lips. When he raises his hands, I think he’s going to push me away, and my cheeks heat, embarrassment rising, but—
He hooks one around the nape of my neck and kisses me back. Our lips move together, gentle and slow, and his other hand sweeps up my side, goosebumps following in its wake. I reach for him in turn, my hands too greedy as they dig into his skin.
Asher groans. I slide my tongue into his mouth, and he tightens the hand at my nape, inhaling sharply. Fuck. If I only get this once, I want it to be enough. And aside from all the thoughts I’m having of him, my mind is so silent. So peaceful.
I don’t want this to ever end.
It does. Of course it does. Asher sucks on my tongue first, and the moan I let out is broken, but when I shuffle towards him on the bed, he slows the kiss. He pulls back with his eyes closed, then presses his lips to the corner of my mouth.
“I’m sorry,” he says, and all those exciting, fluttering feelings in my stomach sink into nausea. I let out a plaintive whine and Asher sighs, then kisses that same spot again.
“Asher,” I plead. I don’t know what I’m pleading for. He won’t fuck me, not injured as I am, and I don’t think I really want him to.
I just don’t want him to let go.
Asher opens his eyes again. He studies me seriously, and all I can cling to is the fact that he hasn’t let go and hasn’t asked me to let go, either. Not yet.
“You’re hurt,” he says, “and even if you weren’t…”
“What?”
“You’re young,” Asher says with an apologetic grimace.
I scowl. “I’m an adult.”
