Chapter 363: His Shameless Distraction
Evaline:
I watched as he tilted his head slightly, his eyes sharpening in that way only he could manage. The storm that had been hiding in his expression shifted -less guilt now, more intent. And then, his mouth curved in the faintest, most dangerous smile.
"Are you warning me, little mate?" he drawled, his voice dipping lower, smooth like velvet and iron all at once.
The tone made my stomach tighten instantly. "I’m not warning you, I’m just-"
"Challenging me?" he interrupted, taking one slow step closer. He was so near that I could feel the warmth of his body seeping into mine. "Because it sounds a lot like you are challenging me, Evaline Greystone."
My breath caught. My fingers were still clutching his healed hand, but he twisted it gently in his hold, turning my wrist until his thumb traced lazy, burning circles on the inside of it. The place where my pulse hammered.
"River-" I tried to speak, determined to keep my voice steady, to bring the conversation back to his injury, back to the blood that had scared me senseless. "You hurt yourself. I need to know-"
But his other hand came up, brushing a strand of hair back from my face, his fingertips grazing my cheekbone like he had all the time in the world. His eyes never left mine. "Do you really?" His voice was softer now, but laced with heat. "Or do you just like worrying about me?"
Heat flared across my cheeks. I opened my mouth to argue, but the words died when he leaned closer, his nose brushing against my temple, his lips grazing the sensitive shell of my ear.
"You look beautiful when you are angry," he murmured, the huskiness in his voice curling down my spine like fire.
"River..." My tone was meant to be stern, but it came out breathless. Weak.
"That little look you gave me," he continued, ignoring my protest. His lips moved slowly, deliberately, close enough to let me feel his breath with every word. "The one that said you wouldn’t let me win? Do you have any idea what that does to me, Evaline?"
My knees felt like they were about to buckle. "This isn’t fair," I managed, my voice barely a whisper.
"Who said I play fair?" He pulled back just enough for our eyes to lock again. His dark gaze was burning with something primal, something that made my heart pound so hard I thought it might break through my ribs.
I tried... I really tried... to cling to my worry, to push past the way he was deliberately distracting me. "You are doing it again," I accused softly. "Trying to make me forget. Trying to-"
He cut me off in the most devastating way possible.
His mouth pressed against mine, slow but devastating, like he had every intention of stealing not just my words, but my very breath.
The kiss wasn’t rushed, wasn’t careless. It was deliberate, calculated - his signature control wrapped in heat. His lips moved against mine with a precision that made my toes curl, every brush and press demanding more from me.
I gasped softly against him, and the sound was all the invitation he needed. His hand cupped the back of my neck, tilting my head so he could deepen the kiss, his tongue sliding against mine with unrelenting purpose. He tasted of coffee and something darker, something uniquely him, and the sensation made my entire body tremble.
I clutched at his shirt instinctively, my fingers curling into the fabric as if I could anchor myself against the storm he was pulling me into. But he didn’t let me stay grounded. No, he wanted me undone.
His lips moved harder now, more demanding, and when I made a small, helpless sound into his mouth, he growled softly. It was a low, rumbling sound that vibrated through my chest. His hand slid from my wrist to my waist, pulling me flush against him until there wasn’t an inch of space left between our bodies.
I melted against him, my anger dissolving, my worry scattering into the air like smoke. All that was left was him - his heat, his strength, his mouth claiming mine like he owned me.
When he finally pulled back, just enough to let me breathe, his lips hovered over mine, his breath warm and ragged. His forehead rested against mine, his eyes hooded but burning.
"Forget everything else," he whispered, his thumb stroking along my jaw. "Just feel me. Just us."
I wanted to argue. I wanted to tell him that this wasn’t fair, that I still needed answers. But the words tangled in my throat, lost under the weight of the bond humming wildly between us.
He smirked slightly at my silence, clearly pleased. "That’s what I thought," he murmured before claiming my mouth again.
This time, the kiss was hungrier, more desperate. His teeth grazed my lower lip, tugging it before soothing the sting with his tongue. The move made me shiver violently, and I felt a wave of heat pooling low in my stomach. My nails dug into his chest as if I could somehow control the fire he was setting inside me, but he only pulled me closer, his hand pressing into the small of my back.
The kiss consumed me, pulled me under, until I was drowning in him. Every brush of his lips, every flick of his tongue, every growl that vibrated against my mouth sent sparks shooting through me. My body was no longer mine, it belonged to him, to this moment, to this intoxicating storm he created.
When we finally broke apart again, both of us were breathing hard, our lips swollen from the intensity. My chest heaved, and my head was spinning.
He studied me for a long moment, his thumb brushing against my bottom lip, his smirk softer now but no less devastating. "See, little mate?" he said, his voice a husky whisper that sent another shiver racing down my spine. "You don’t really want to fight me. Not when you taste like this."
My cheeks flamed, while my heart pounded so hard it hurt. I wanted to glare at him, to tell him off for turning everything into a game, for distracting me so shamelessly. But my body betrayed me. My lips parted, still tingling, and I could only stare at him, breathless and undone.
He leaned in once more, pressing the gentlest kiss to the corner of my mouth, before pulling back just far enough to whisper against my skin...
"Now tell me again how you are going to warn me, when you can barely breathe."
I hated that he was right. Hated that he knew exactly what he was doing to me. And yet, standing there with his arms still holding me close, his lips brushing mine again in lazy, intoxicating promises...I couldn’t find it in me to care.
Not when he made me forget everything but him.