Page 34 of A City of Smoke and Demons
‘Fuck, I want you,’ he managed. She trembled as his hands went to work on the buttons of her blouse, fingers fumbling. With her breath on his neck, she slipped her hand inside his trousers, the contact of her fingers on his aching flesh making him groan. His head dropped to her shoulder as she stroked the length of him.
‘Hurry up,’ she whispered; fingernails pierced skin in warning, making him hiss and sink his teeth into the tender flesh below her ear. She withdrew her hand, swiftly undoing the buttons on her blouse for him, her amulet dangling between the curve of her breasts. With a wicked smirk, she unbuttoned her trousers and eased them down her hips.
He caught her hands. ‘I’m going to do that.’
‘If you wish.’
He did. He really did, but not here, crammed against the kitchen bench. Ezra slipped his hands beneath the soft curve of her arse, lifting her. Her legs wrapped around him automatically, making his toes curl as everything that anchored him to the ground was torn away. Analise wriggled against him impatiently, nipping at his lower lip.
The bedroom was too far away, and the stairs might be a problem because there was no way he was letting her go for more than a second, not unless he was removing her clothes.
‘The table?’
She nodded.
Ezra could barely think. He stumbled towards the table and, the moment he set her down, she slipped her hand inside his trousers again. Her grip was firm, her palm blazing. He shuddered, and pulled her hand away.
‘You first, remember?’ he murmured, pushing her back. Her hair was a mess, lips kiss-stung, colour splashed across her cheeks. With her chest heaving, her buttons undone, trousers sitting low on the swell of her hips, she was the most glorious thing he had ever seen.
In this moment, she was his, no matter if it was wrong, no matter what happened after.
Ezra leant over her, hands braced on either side of her head as he kissed her deeply, then trailed his lips over her jaw, down her throat. A moan escaped her when he sucked on the skin above her breast, before his teeth dug into her. There would be a mark there. A claiming of her, like she’d already claimed him.
How had that even happened? All he could think about was the places he wanted to kiss her and the places she’d probably stab him if she knew the truth. He should have walked away from this the moment he realised what was happening; no, before then, when he stumbled into her morgue and discovered what she was.
But he hadn’t. And now he couldn’t, and didn’t want to.
Fingers trembling, Ezra eased her trousers off. She lifted her arse to help him and when she was naked from the waist down, he took a moment to appreciate the creamy skin and soft flesh, the flowing curve that ran from breast to thigh.
Analise opened her mouth, possibly to chastise him for taking so long, but before she could speak, Ezra trailed his finger down her stomach, along one thigh, back up, then stopped. She groaned, thighs parting in invitation. He fumbled for the nearest chair, collapsing into it, hooking his hands underneath her. He’d told himself that when this finally happened again—if ithappened—he’d relish it, take his time with her, learn each inch of her body. But now they were here, her spread on the table like his personal feast, fuck savouring the moment.
Analise gasped when he plunged his tongue into her, the gasp turning into a moan as she shuddered, her back arching off the table. Her hands were in his hair, fingernails scratching at his scalp as she tugged him closer. He pushed her legs further apart and trailed his tongue over her again, working her with his fingers until she was hovering on the edge, about to crash over. Ezra couldn’t take it any longer. He stood, pulling his shirt off.
‘I swear, if you’re not inside me in the next five seconds, I’m going to scream, Ezra,’ Analise said breathlessly as he positioned himself between her legs.
‘I’d rather you screamwhenI’m inside you, but point taken,’ he whispered. She pulled his head down for a searing kiss, then wrapped her legs around him, her heels pressed into his arse. Ezra surged forward, sinking inside her in one powerful stroke. They both groaned as he withdrew then thrust back in, hard.
A voice echoed through the house.
‘Umm, whatever you’re doing, maybe stop?’
‘Shit,’ Analise hissed, pushing him away. She scrambled off the table and pulled her clothes on as he cursed God into the Fallen One’s Hell. Ezra was in the middle of buttoning his trousers with trembling fingers when Lira came waltzing into the kitchen. She glanced at him, shirtless, and then at Analise, her flushed face, blouse only partially buttoned, hair a mess and, like him, one stroke away from release.
Lira smirked. ‘Anyone hungry?’
Analise fought to get her breathing under control, her cheeks flaming as she fixed her shirt.
‘I bought pastries,’ Lira announced. ‘In case anyone was in the mood.’
Analise blushed again, sneaking a glance at Ezra, who was still bare chested. She tore her eyes away, deciding it was best not to look at him, not when she was hovering on the edge, the flesh between her legs molten. ‘Ummm, sure. What are you doing here?’
‘As I’m my own boss, I decided to take the morning off and spend it with my friend,’ Lira said, digging into the bag. ‘Croissants?’
Analise managed a nod. She was supposed to be angry with Lira, but right now, that was the last thing on her mind. She ran trembling fingers over her face, smoothing her hair back.
‘Ezra?’ Lira offered, lips twitching. ‘Something sweet?’
He nodded, and turned to scoop his shirt from the ground.
