Page 97 of By the Orchid and the Owl
“You feel full of bright, twinkling stars?”
“Stars that burn holes in my chest and eat me alive,” he said, eyeing the sky above us as we floated closer to it.
He was holding back, I knew—and somehow having him shape our perception of reality into a mold of his own mind helped me see why. Clouds and stars, with the island of Eshol far beneath us, as if the world had dropped away…
Ever since our first real kiss in that gem-gilded cave, he’d been holding back. It didn’t seem like it upon first glance, with the way he always took charge, the way he always laid me under him, but… he’d never taken us all the way. And for some reason, even though I’d been wanting more for the past several weeks, I’d been waiting for him to do so. Waiting for him to burst through his careful control and absolutely ravage me in the heat of the moment.
But Coen wouldn’t break, I realized suddenly with a rush of butterfly wings up my throat. He would not slip or burst or let that hungry haze in his eyes overtake his actions. He was in far, far more control than I’d ever guessed, with a stamina that could send us higher and higher and higher until we broke through the sky and shot into whatever lay beyond. And we’d never fall or deflate unless I…
I swallowed the dryness in my throat, looking at him.
It was up to me. I would have to say the word, and then he’d pounce.
But what if I didn’t want to simply say the word and have it… done to me? What ifIfelt in control? What if I commanded him?
The realization that I could… I could take charge in this way startled me, and I almost fell into him. Almost.
“Are you okay?” Coen asked, his eyes narrowing on my neck, as if he could see how wild my pulse was fluttering there.
I didn’t answer. I just kissed him.
Immediately, his hands flew up to grasp the back of my neck and pull me against him.
No. I wanted it donemyway. I grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and pushed him down with that fist of wadded fabric.
Or, at least, I tried to. He didn’t budge. Frustrated, my lips still taking and tasting his, I pushed harder, and now a hot, hardy chuckle found its way into my mouth.
Hischuckle. His amusement. I hissed in frustration and changed tactics, burying my mouth in the crook of his shoulder and neck, sucking in the scent of black bamboo and nipping at his skin.
Coen stilled against me, no doubt caught in a moment of surprise.
Then he grabbed a fistful of my hair and pulledmyhead back, forcing me to give him access tomyneck. I tried to yank away, but he clamped his mouth down on the delicate skin just above my collarbone.
“Coen. Steeler,” I panted, knowing that if I let loose a single moan, my resolution would completely dissolve. “You stop that. Let me.”
“Let you what?” he said against my neck. We were still rising through this mist, as if the stars and moon were infinitely out of reach. As if the sky would never end.
Words failed me, but my hand didn’t. I reached down and grabbed the full span of him through his pants, and a wicked smile flew to my lips when he let me go as if I’d electrocuted him from head to toe.
“Let me dothis,” I said.
He sucked a breath in through his teeth, so, so rigid under the glide of my palm as I moved it up and down the fabric of his pants.
“Okay, but only if you can concentrate through this,” he said, reaching down in return.
Now I was the one nearly spasming as his fingers grazed me where it ached. Too much. Too much clothing sat between that ache and his fingers.
But I couldn’t give in. I was determined to be the one in control—at least for this first time.
I withdrew my hand from his erection to rip off his shirt.
Coen tutted. “Not so fast, little hurricane.”
In one pouncing motion, he lowered me onto my back and dipped his face to the lowest part of my stomach. Grinning, he gently bit the bottom of my shirt and brought it up over my breasts with his teeth.
Then he made a trail of kisses down to that lowest part that throbbed and yearned for more of him, brushing feather-light lips over it until I couldn’t help but scrabble at his head, wanting him to goharder.
He popped back up, smiling with those wicked lips, and I struck.
