Page 34 of Dual
"We stop the second you need to. Understand? Just saythe word."
"I know," she whispers. "I trust you."
Those three words gut me. Trust. After everything. After what I did, keeping her locked in my dungeon when she couldn't remember who she was, who I was, who we'd been to each other. She still trusts me.
I crush my mouth to hers, unable to hold back any longer. She meets me with equal fervor, hands tangling in my hair, tugging in a way that sends electricity down my spine. I walk her backward until she hits the counter, then grip her thighs, lifting her to sit on it.
She gasps into my mouth. I hesitate to step between her legs, but her thighs part readily, making space for me. Her hands move restlessly over my shoulders, my chest, my arms, as if she's confirming I'm real.
When she breaks the kiss, her lips are swollen, her pupils blown wide. "More," she whispers, sliding off the counter and taking my hand. "But not here."
I follow her—God, I'd follow her anywhere—my body thrumming with need as she leads me to the living room. She stops by the window, golden morning light streaming in and catching in her hair. She's so fucking beautiful, I swear my heart almost stops.
But then she reaches for me, and she's flesh and blood, and so am I.
"I thought maybe a change of scenery would help," she explains, words tumbling out quickly. "Different places, different memories. I don't want to be afraid anymore." Her handstighten on mine. "I want you so much, Domhn. I always have."
The raw honesty in her voice undoes me. I pull her to me, one hand tangling in her hair as I kiss her deeply. She opens for me instantly, her tongue sliding against mine in a way that makes me groan. My free hand moves to her hip, fingers digging in probably harder than they should, but she doesn't flinch—she just presses closer.
She makes a sound in the back of her throat—a whimper that goes straight to my groin—and her hands move up my chest. Her palms are hot against my bare skin.
"Jesus, Anna," I rasp, breaking the kiss to catch my breath.
Her innocent neediness is so different from last night but no less affecting. I'm all but falling to my knees.
She doesn't stop. Her lips move to my jaw, my neck, teeth grazing my pulse point. "Touch me," she demands, voice husky with need. "Please, Domhn. I need to feel you."
I comply, hands skimming up her sides, brushing the undersides of her breasts through her shirt. She arches into the touch with a gasp that might be the sexiest sound I've ever heard.
"Where now?" I struggle to maintain some semblance of control.
Her eyes, when they meet mine, are wild with want and something else—determination, maybe. Fear she's trying to outrun.
I meant where does she want me to touch her, but shetakes me literally, intent on testing her theory about making new memories in new places.
"Library," she says, stepping back but keeping hold of my hand. "Follow me."
I do—of course I do—letting her lead me to our favorite room in the house. The walls are covered with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves. A fire crackles in the stone fireplace, and warm winter light pours in the windows.
She pauses at the threshold, taking in the space. "You lit a fire," she says softly, a smile curving her lips.
I nod. "I started it on my way to the kitchen this morning. I know how you like to curl up in here after breakfast."
Her eyes meet mine, something soft and grateful in them. "You always think of everything."
The knowledge that I'd unconsciously set the stage for this moment—that some part of me had been hoping for this connection even before I knew it was possible—sends heat surging through me.
She doesn't sit in one of the comfortable chairs near the fireplace. Instead, she backs me against one of the bookcases, her small hands surprisingly strong as she presses me against it.
"I think about you in here," she confesses, her voice low. "When you're working late. I come in here and I can smell you on the books and the leather chairs. I sit by the fire and imagine you touching me." Her eyes reflect the dancing flames, turning them into liquid gold. "I think about the thingswe used to do before..." She trails off, something flickering in her eyes.
"Anna," I start, concerned.
She shakes her head, dismissing whatever shadow just passed over her. "Kiss me," she demands, rising on her toes.
I comply, pouring everything I feel for her into the kiss—my love, devotion, and my desperate need. Her hands slide into my hair, holding me to her as if I'd ever try to pull away.
My hands move down her back to her ass, squeezing, lifting her slightly. She moans into my mouth, her body going soft and pliant against mine. I turn us, walking her backward until we're near the hearth, the fire's warmth on our skin. I press her back against the large leather chair, one of my thighs slipping between hers.
