A Girl in Black and White (Alyria 2)

“Fucking hell,” he hissed when he realized the door was wide open before slamming it shut. I had no idea if anyone had walked by, and I didn’t care. Because he was staring at me completely bare, every inch of my skin zinging just below the surface. I’d never stood naked in front of a man before, and it was one of the most exhilarating things I’d ever done.

He took a slow step towards me, and I tensed, panic uncurling in my stomach that he was going to make me put my dress on and send me away. I couldn’t handle his rejection. I was standing here, offering myself to a man for the very first time. I would take it hard, go find another man to feel wanted. And I didn’t want anyone else. Don’t ask me why, but this stupid Titan was who I needed.

He stopped, closed his eyes briefly, and then blinked them back open like he wasn’t going to let frustration ruin the view. “There’s no saint out there who could resist this.” He said it so quietly that I barely heard it, like he was talking to himself, trying to convince himself that it was out of his hands now.

His eyes finally, lazily, came up from my body to my face. “I’m done.”

I blinked a few times, trying to clear my thoughts. “Done?”

“From trying to save you by some self-sacrificing notion.” He took another step toward me, my heart jumping when he unbuckled his belt and tossed it on the floor beside him.

My throat felt thick. “I don’t need to be saved.”

He laughed darkly. “Yea, you do, Princess.”

I suddenly had a strong feeling that if I were ever given a chance to change my mind, it was far past.

“From what?” I took a small step back, but he’d already reached me, his hand in my hair, treating it like a rope and pulling me back until I felt the coolness of the stone wall behind me.

His fist tugged my head back, his lips coming down to brush mine. Then in the lightest, roughest whisper, he said against my lips, “From me.”

Maybe the shiver that went through me could be attributed to the fact that I never had a man in my life before. And I was just learning how much I enjoyed it, having a man’s presence, a man’s attention. I just wanted to languish in it, let him do whatever he wanted to me.

My pulse fluttered as the roughness of his hands spanned my waist, lifting me until my legs wound around him. The heat of his large body at my front and the cold stone at my back was an intoxicating combination. A violent shiver went through me when without even a kiss, his head lowered, taking a nipple in his mouth.

A guttural breath escaped my lips, and my head fell back when he moved to the next. Warmth seeped into my skin, spreading like wildfire to the pit of my stomach.

He pulled back, palming my breast in his hand. Groaning at the view, he ran his thumb over a nipple. Sharp tingles shot from my breasts lower and lower, sizzling.

His darkened gaze came up to mine, before kissing me, sucking on my tongue, and biting my lower lip, pulling on it. Differently and wilder than he’d ever kissed me before, like he was now uninhibited, unhinged.

I panted, tingles sparking inside me as the heat of his palms squeezed my bare breasts, thumbed my nipples until I thought I would go mad from the hazy pressure building.

His lips grew more persistent against my own, harsher, with more nips from his teeth and faster brushes of his tongue, until there wasn’t a breath his lips weren’t on me.

But when his hands slid against the underside of my thighs to unbutton his pants, unease cooled the fire under my skin. He was going to take me right here, against a wall. He didn’t know I was a virgin . . . the thought passed through my head.

“Wait.”

He didn’t stop kissing down my neck, biting a nipple gently. Panic uncurled in my stomach.

“Weston, wait!” I demanded breathlessly.

He pulled back only after I tugged sharply on his hair. I swallowed. “Um, I think there’s something you should know.”

He waited, his heated gaze hazy, maybe a little angry.

“I’m a—I mean . . . that I haven’t done this before,” I ended on a whisper. For all that is holy, don’t let him push me away for this.

Flicking my gaze back up to his, black slowly leaked into his irises, twirling and filling the space in a soft way. My heartbeat fluttered in my chest, but the heated, lazy expression he maintained kept me from fearing it, from fearing him. Slowly he slid me down his body until my feet hit the floor, and then in a position I thought was never possible for someone of Weston’s nature, he dropped to his knees at my feet.

My heart pattered so hard in my chest. “Wha—” I began, but the rest of the word came out in one long, guttural moan. Oh. Bloody. Hell. My back arched, and my head fell back, hitting the stone wall.

He had one thigh over his shoulder, and the other barely kept me standing steadily as the heat of his tongue licked and swirled around the center of me. Sharp tingles spread throughout my body, all the way to the tips of my fingers.

I gasped between heavy breaths, not sure where I wanted my hands: in his hair or spread on the wall beside me. I did a combination of both. The feeling inside me antsy, desperate, the deep tingles building to sparks. The feeling was foreign, unknown, and it made apprehension run down my spine. “Weston, stop,” I breathed.

He responded with an open-mouthed kiss at a place that made me see stars. The sparks built to a hotter level, the foreign feeling expanding. Oh, hell.