Dead of Eve (Trilogy of Eve 1)

My body surrendered to his touch, boiled to its earlier intensity. “Roark?”

He stiffened. He thought I was still asleep?

After a few breaths, he shifted, rolling me in his fold to face him. His jaw was clenched, lips in a slit, but desire fed the blaze in his heavy-lidded eyes. Would he let me run my hand through his curls and suck the tension from his bottom lip?

We stared at each other, nose to nose. I licked my lips, where his oaky taste lingered. His eyes followed.

The muscles in my stomach clenched, rippled lower, and settled into a throb against the thigh between my legs. I meant to push him away, but instead curled my nails into his back. The buildup inside me quickened to the point of pain. This time, it had to be slaked.

I took a deep breath. The words came on my exhale. “Please. Fuck me.”

He lowered his head.

God is faithful;

he will not let you be tempted beyond what you can bear.

But when you are tempted,

he will also provide a way out so that you can stand up under it.

The Holy Bible, 1 Corinthians 10:13

Roark buried a hand in my hair, knotting a shock of it at my nape. Another hand around my hip, he pressed his mouth hard against mine.

His tongue slipped past my lips, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. I fell into his kiss, clinging to him as tightly as he clung to me. Soft curls tangled with my fingers as I scored his scalp. He responded with a rumble low in his throat.

When I met him, I was injured, hungry and so damn lonely. In a matter of hours, he’d slipped past my guard, sneaked in with a charming smile, and soothed the ache in my heart. But I wanted more than friendly flirting and sympathetic snuggling. I wanted an embedded joining, a molecular connection, a melding of souls.

My body trapped under his, the lean sinews in his back bunched under my hands. His teeth scraped my neck where he nuzzled and licked. Then his tongue sought mine again, tasting as he nudged his thigh between my legs and drove the muscled strength of it against my groin.

Need swelled inside me, tightening my womb and demanding release.

His pelvis retreated. He released my mouth. His eyes searched mine as he molded fingers to the contour of my waist, sweeping them over the edge of my breast.

“I want this,” he panted. “Ye den’ know how much I want…but I—”

“No,” I whispered between clenched teeth. “We both want this. Please.”

He squeezed his eyes shut, nostrils flaring. His hand curled into a fist on my chest and his body constricted, pulled away.

“No.” I rolled after him, restrained by twisted bedding.

He scooted to the end of the bed, hunched over. His knuckles blanched as his hands made fists in his lap. “God forgive me.”

“God forgive you?” I sat up, shouting at his back. “Bullshit. What about me forgiving you?”

No response.

“Fuck this.” I untangled my legs from the blankets and bolted to the bathroom.

“Evie!”

I slammed the door and sent something crashing to the floor. The candlelight danced as I yanked the drawer open. My bullet lay amongst the toothpaste, soaps and razors.

In the mirror, my yellow-green irises flared under the agitated vein in my forehead. My cheeks flushed in coral hues. My hair parted over my shoulder, curling around one breast and miming his caress. I dropped my eyes.

My naval jerked in response to the pulsing below it. I splayed a hand over the curve of my hip, dipped it under the waistband and between my thighs. My body trembled. I plucked the bullet and dropped to my usual spot on the floor. My eyes closed, flooded with the intensity of copper ones. The illusion of Jesse’s body wrapped around and in mine as the bullet assuaged my need.

After I cleaned up, I returned to the floor. At least self-pleasure took the edge off. Bet his vow didn’t allow him even that.

We stood at a crossroad. The longer we remained confined to the bunker, the more the thing between us would strain. He swore to protect me, asking only for my faith in his discipline. With my growing connection to the aphids, I needed his faith in my humanity.

From my perspective, humanity as a whole was already lost. The cries of the nymph in the cabin, however, still sent shudders through me. What if there were others like her? What if I could aid the research to cure them?

A shadow flickered under the bathroom door. I reached up for the knob and opened it.

He sat on the other side, legs bent, back to the door jam. He raised his eyes to mine and held out my shirt. “I’m sorry. Ye deserve more.”

“Don’t be sorry. I didn’t mean what I said.” I sweetened my words, but they tasted like acid in my mouth. I pulled the shirt on.