“Maybe I’ll make you wear a condom anytime we have sex,” she mused. “Forever and ever.”
“You’d miss me dripping down your thighs.” As he spoke, candle wax drizzled deeper inside her thighs and she squirmed.
Fuck.
He was done waiting.
“Does it change things?” she whispered as Anteros got to his feet. Her crystal eyes tracked his movements when he took off his holster and threw it to the floor, following his fingers down as he undid his zipper.
“Does what?” Anteros came to her head, grip tightening on her slim waist. His cock was an iron bar against her lips.
“The fact that I might not be able to have children?” The movement of her lips at the head of his cock sent shockwaves down his spine. The muscle in his forearm carved a pronounced line as he held onto control, fingers bruising her hips.
“Silly girl,” he murmured as he slowly plunged into her mouth. “There is nothing that could change how I feel about you.”
The moon was fading into a cobalt sky by the time Anteros gave Frankie a break.
“You have a little dimple right here,” he mused, tracing his finger along the dip in her flesh, just above her ass. Bits of wax still clung to her and while he stroked, the wax lifted, skin beneath it silky and paved anew. “I haven’t noticed it before.”
“You told me once you would know every inch of me,” she mused. “Even better than myself.”
He smiled faintly to himself, remembering the day she was talking about. She’d fucking vomited on him when he’d said that—so goddamn willful. “I will, until I can see you perfectly in my mind. I came too close to losing you.”
“How did you find me?”
“I went to your old home in Jersey. Levi was there and when we found Gabriella dead on the floor, he lost his cool and spilled everything. I’m still not sure what happened to her, but that’s not important.” The previously soft, relaxed muscles in Frankie’s back tensed.
“It’s my fault. It’s my fault she’s dead,” she said, strained and sorrowful. Before he could ask what she meant, she filled him in on how Gabby had fallen and how even though she’d tried to save her, she still felt it was her fault. In her mind, Gabby only fell because she was out of her mind with grief—a grief Frankie had caused.
“If she hadn’t died, Levi never would have told me where you were.” Anteros stroked her hair. “I never would have reached you in time.”
“That doesn’t make me feel better.”
“It should.”
Frankie scoffed. “Everything is so black and white with you.”
“Nothing is black and white to me. Our world is gray, but gray is ugly and you hate that. I’m not going to pretend to be sad that your friend is dead while you get to live. You alive means I get to have you.” Anteros rolled over and pinned her, his next words a deep rumble in her ear. “I know you, Frankie. You want to live to see the sun rise and fuck until your throat hurts from screaming. You feel guilty but only because everything has always been black and white, and suddenly it’s gray.”
Anteros slowly lifted himself to his elbows. It was like Frankie didn’t know what she was doing, and he fucking loved watching the way she bent to him. Her eyes were closed and she lifted her hips, spread her legs, squirming beneath him as his words twisted inside her. Strawberry colored her thighs, creeping into her cheeks. He was close enough to taste her sigh, to feel her steaming pants against his lips.
She wanted it, but he wouldn’t give it to her—her punishment being tortured by her need.
Slowly she came back to reality, eyes locked without blinking, the air between them a hot spring. Bracketed under his arms, she wholly submitted to him, an almost pained sigh escaping her lips when she realized he wasn’t going to sate her need. Another few moments p
assed, then Frankie stretched her arm out, spearing her fingers through his beard.
“Have I told you how much I love this?” she whispered. “You never told me why you grew it out.” Anteros touched his beard, fingers shrouding Frankie’s slender ones.
“When you left, shaving was the last thing on my mind,” he said honestly. A few moments passed in silence, Frankie grazing the hairs.
“I don’t like the reason,” she said. “But I like it. It’s wild and beautiful, like you.”
Anteros studied Frankie, earnest clear-water eyes burning, hair a wild halo around her head getting brighter as the morning grew. His mind wandered to the subject they’d discussed before sex. Even though she’d said she wanted this life, after what she’d confessed about Gabriella, he still wasn’t sure she was ready for it.
“Are we going to do this?” she whispered, hand sliding from his jaw to his shoulder.
His eyes narrowed. Was she saying what he thought she was? “Do what?”