Page 60 of Soulbound
He lowered his face toward hers, his hands sliding up her sides to cup her face between them. Cleo sucked in a sharp breath, staying still. His thumbs stroked the sides of her face.
The music ground to a halt. Sebastian could barely breathe. "Cleo...."
Perhaps his problem wasn't trying to stay away from her, or resisting the feelings she incited within him.
He no longer felt dirty. Cleo had cleansed the taint from his skin, and maybe, just maybe, he could do this. He captured her cheek, lifting her chin even as he lowered his mouth to hers. Their lips brushed, her hand coming to rest, hesitantly, on his chest.
The first time he'd kissed her, he'd almost been overwhelmed by the sensation of it. He'd not had a chance to savor it. But now.... His tongue pressed against her lips, parting them. One hand slid to her waist. Cleo's breath caught, and he could taste the sweet, champagne taste of her tongue as she lightly caressed his own.
It wasn't the same as the night at Malachi Gray's. Neither of them were affected by magic. And this wasn't a first kiss, hesitant and unsure.
This was raw hunger. Sheer need. A gentle exploration of Cleo and the art of kissing. He wanted to make it good for her, but the second their tongues touched it no longer mattered.
He forgot where he was. He forgot everything but the feel of his wife beneath his hands, her arms sliding around his neck as her body wilted against him. Suddenly it wasn't enough. Heat stirred in his cock. He captured a handful of her bustle, dragging her against him, and plunged his tongue inside her mouth. It felt as though the two of them became one, and everything around them receded until he was lost in the touch and taste of her. Cleo. Cleo, the girl who'd saved his life. The girl who'd shown him what trust was, and invited him into another world. One that both terrified him and enticed him. He could almost see himself pressing her down onto the sheets in his cold bed, dragging the silk of her night-robe open....
The crush of her breasts against his chest dragged his mind to darker, hungrier places, imagining his lips on her bare flesh.... To tongue her nipples like this, teasing her, igniting her....
Mercy.
Sebastian's hand fisted in her skirts, though he didn't drag them up. He wanted to. Sweet mother of night, how he wanted to. His fist clenched.
But he needed to break this spell, and he needed to break it now. Before he crossed the point of no return. He broke from her mouth, breathing hard. "You make me forget myself."
You make me forget everything.
Cleo looked up with passion-drugged eyes. Her soft smile sent an arrow of need straight through him, but he was captured by the poignant thought that he never wanted to forget what this particular smile looked like. "Not entirely a terrible thing."
It brought a laugh to his lips. "Someone's pleased with themselves."
"Considering how often you've held me at bay, it's nice to know you find me difficult to resist at times too." She bit her lip, those dark lashes shuttering over her eyes.
Sebastian slid a finger under her chin, insisting on looking at her. "Impossible to resist," he told her hoarsely.
If she only knew....
But there was no time to tell her, for that was when the screaming began.
Chapter 13
'There are many types of hell spawn one can drag from the Shadow Dimensions, but imps are the worst. A vile plague, and difficult to kill... though not impossible.'
* * *
—Lady Eberhardt
* * *
SEBASTIAN BROKE AWAY from her.
Cleo drew a ragged breath, her head turning unerringly toward the manor, her body a mixture of cooling desire and sudden conflicting fear. Every muscle in Sebastian's body was hard, a look of predatory intensity upon his face.
"What was that?" she whispered.
Light flared; red light. Glass exploded out through the french doors that lined the terrace, and then the screaming started again.
Attack. They were under attack.
"Stay here," Sebastian said, but Cleo caught his wrist as he turned toward the manor.
