Foretold (St. Bastian Institute 1)

“It’s really not that bad here,” he said. “It does get a little cold, but at least it’s quiet.”

I felt so much for him at that moment that I shifted closer, overwhelmed by the urge to hug him. I threw my arms around his shoulders and pulled him to me. He didn’t resist, emitting a long, weary sigh as his head fell to my shoulder. I felt just how much he needed it in the way he sagged into me.

He turned his nose into my neck, and I suppressed a shudder. “I hated you kissing him,” he murmured candidly, and I swear my heart stopped beating. He was talking about Nic choosing to kiss me during Truth or Dare. Every cell in my body came alive in awareness at his simple statement.

“You did?” I whispered.

“It was torture.”

A long quiet elapsed before I said, “I wouldn’t have liked it if you had to kiss someone either.”

“Good.” There was a thread of possessiveness in his voice. His arms came around me, pulling our bodies even closer. I just about lost the ability to breathe when his lips brushed the tender hollow of my neck.

Goosebumps pimpled my skin. A pleasurable tremor tip-toed down my spine.

I whimpered when he pressed his lips more firmly, causing butterflies to erupt everywhere. The rain was falling just as heavily as it had been all night, but the sound was muted in this room. We were in a little windowless bubble, and if Peter kept pressing kisses to my neck, I wasn’t sure I’d ever want to leave.

His hand came to rest on my hip, his touch a little unsure. I placed my hand over his in encouragement, then tilted my head back to give him greater access to my neck. His tongue dipped out, tasting me, and tingles of pleasure scattered south. I squeezed my thighs together to suppress the need he created. I wanted everything from him. I wanted to lose myself in the very essence of him.

His mouth travelled a path up my neck and met the underside of my jaw, where he sharply inhaled as though committing my scent to memory. My bones turned to jelly as I watched him. His eyes opened, erotic intent in their dark brown depths. First, he kissed my jaw; then his focus trailed to my mouth. Heat and longing melded with desire, and I was going to burst if he didn’t kiss me.

Please, my voice whimpered in his mind.

His only answer was a rumbling growl that vibrated through every cell in my body. Then his mouth brushed over my lips, once, twice, three times before he captured them in a searing, hungry kiss. I made a small noise in the back of my throat that seemed to spur him on as his tongue slid along mine. His palms travelled up my ribs, stopping just shy of my breasts. I opened my mouth, allowing all of him in, and gasped when his thumb flicked featherlight over my hardened nipple. There were several layers of fabric between us, yet that move shot a bolt of pure desire right between my legs.

Peter’s hand came up to grip my jaw, the move possessive. I flicked my tongue against his, and he groaned, deepening the kiss. Against my thigh, I felt a distinct hardness.

Then, too soon, the light flickered on overhead, casting the room in glaring, intrusive brightness. A stark contrast to the delicious darkness we’d melted into. Peter swore under his breath and drew away, his chest rising and falling like kissing me had caused his pulse to quicken. I immediately missed his warmth, his mouth.

“They must’ve fixed the generator,” Peter said, dragging a hand through his hair. “Either that or the electricity came back on its own.”

I nodded, having not yet recovered the ability to speak. Peter had just kissed me, and it was the kind of kiss that turned my entire world upside down. He eyed me then, his gaze soft as he tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “You okay?”

“Yep,” I managed, though I was certain my cheeks were on fire.

Peter glanced at the floor. Then his eyes returned to me. “I couldn’t go to sleep tonight knowing Nic Baumann was the last one to kiss you.”

I was so hot now the tips of my ears had surely turned pink. “We should head to the teachers’ lounge before they come looking for us,” I said, and Peter smiled fondly, a knowing look in his eyes. He knew I was too stunned by how mind-shattering that kiss was actually to discuss it.

He stood then reached down to help me up. I took his hand, my palm tingling when our skin met. Peter’s eyes travelled over my face, and I caught a faint whisper in my mind.

So beautiful.

I flushed deeply at the barely audible thought that flittered from his head into mine like a delicate, falling petal. He thought I was beautiful. I didn’t tell him what I heard, choosing instead to keep it as a secret to treasure.