Page 60 of Nyx
“They are getting better.” I’d never betray Elas’s trust by sharing what we discuss, but he told Reyes about our late-night talks weeks ago, and assured me he doesn’t expect me to keep anything from him.
“Good. He deserves to wash that place from his mind… you both do.”
“We will. Replace the bad memories with better ones.”
Reyes takes another step nearer, but I don’t back up as he lifts his hand. I take it in both of mine to inspect the mark that swirls on his fingertips. We’ve been dancing around being mates, spending time together as we learn more about each other. Touching others has always been hard for me, but with him, it’s easy.
I crave it, always wanting more.
We keep getting closer and closer, always closer, but he never pushes me. If anything, he withdraws when Iwant to be pushed, and the frustration is the most decadent thing I’ve ever experienced. Rich and slow-moving like honey low in my belly, with the most insistent pounding through my limbs.
“I saved your flower,” he whispers, and his other hand moves from behind his back with a Daisy pinched between his fingers. He tucks it behind my ear, pausing as he drags his fingertip along the sensitive skin.
White-hot, blinding heat replaces the usual warmth. It’s demanding and thick, and I must make a sound because Reyes’s face twists into a different sort of pain. “Gods, you’re killing me, beautiful,” he murmurs. “Absolutely killing me.” He traces my ear again, and that delicious heat spreads up my spine. My breath quickens, and my eyes lock on his mouth.
I blindly reach for his shirt, fisting the material between my fingers as I push out a shaky exhale. He steps even closer as my lips part, and everythingaches.The sensation is foreign, and I lean into it as I tug him closer. He obliges me as I pull on his shirt, and my eyes flick up to his before landing on his mouth again.
The others show their affection openly, with their touches and kisses, and I want to be able to do the same. I want to give that to him. “I… I…” A frustrated grunt leaves my throat, unable to articulate what I’m feeling. It’s so powerful it makes me dizzy, and touching him is the only thing I can think about as my other hand grips his forearm.
“What do you want?” He bands his arm around my middle to pull me closer. Every contact point flares to life and sings, my skin tingling and my body tight in the very best way.
“I just…want,” I breathe, and he groans again as he leans in and brushes his lips over my temple.
He kisses me there, a real one, then moves his mouth along my hairline until he’s at my ear. “Whatever you want, you can have,” he murmurs, then kisses me there, too. “You know that, don’t you? I’ll give you anything. Everything.”
Voices chatter nearby, and he hesitantly pulls back to meet my eyes. That pressure is even tighter now, swirling and building until I think I might explode with it. “I want,” I say again, and he pushes my hair from my face and closes his eyes as he sucks in a heavy breath.
“Dear gods, I won’t survive this,” he groans, then plants another kiss on my temple. “How about we spend the afternoon together after we’re finished working?”
“That is far away,” I whine, and he laughs with a grin.
“I’ll work fast, okay? Once I get this greenhouse done, no one will need me for the rest of the day.” He tries to step back, but I yank at him again, and he gives in and leans his body into mine.
“Nyx?”
My eyes drift up to his, so very close. “It’s better when you’re here. I want,” I whisper, and his expression turns pained once more.
“I know you do, sirrha. You trust me to take care of you, don’t you?” I nod, and he presses a kiss onto my cheek as I draw in a sharp breath. “We’re not doing this here in the middle of the garden, as much as we both want to.”
“You want, too?” I ask, breathless, and he huffs a laugh.
“Yes, Nyx. I always want you. Let me do it the right way.”
“Okay,” I relent, and he steps back slowly, like it’s just as hard for him to separate himself from me as it is for me to let him go.
“I’ll find you when I’m done working.”
“Please?”
His eyes roll up to the sky, and he puffs out a long breath. “Will not survive this,” he mutters again, but his expression is sweet and so patient when he meets my eyes. “I’ll see you soon, okay?”
“Okay,” I whisper as I watch him walk away with a final glance over his shoulder. Hours seem to pass like days as I force myself to work. The uncomfortable fire in my belly fades to a dull ember as I busy myself with the plants. By the time I’m finished, three baskets are full of peas, and a fourth is loaded with squash and zucchini. Their production has slowed, and I wonder if that means the colder months are coming. As if to mock my thought, a scorching breeze blows over my face, carrying a cloud of dust that sticks to the sweat on my forehead.
“Do you need help with those?” Reyes asks from behind me, and once again, I’m grinning like an idiot when I turn toward him.
“Are you finished?” I ask as I lift two of the baskets. He grabs the other two and nods as we walk towards the storage building to drop the food inside. As our official canner, Cameron checks it once a day, and usually suckers August and Ronan to help. I think it’s nostalgic for him to pull out the glass jars. His mother lived in this village, andhe tells stories of her humming while she canned in their kitchen.
We leave the vegetables, and Reyes bites at his lip as he glances at me from the corner of his eye. “About earlier…”
