But then the kisses, well, they changed. They deepened as I rolled onto my back and he followed, his weight a delicious feeling against my legs, and these kisses were anything but sweet. They scorched deep inside me, washing away the events of the last couple of hours like the river had taken away the unholy burn of the onyx. When he kissed like this, every muscle in his body coiling into a tight spring, he undid me.
His hand smoothed the shirt down, baring a shoulder, and his mouth followed. Static built in the air and a tremble coursed through his body. In that moment, after everything that happened, I wanted the feel of him against me with no barriers, nothing getting in the way. Lifting up, I raised my arms and Daemon didn’t hesitate. He took what was offered. With nothing there, his hands were everywhere, tracing the slender piece of obsidian, smoothing down the curve of my stomach, over my hips, and I was pretty sure there would be no other moment as perfect as this.
Or maybe it was how close we came to losing it all tonight that propelled us both? I didn’t know, nor was I sure how we’d come to this point, but all that mattered was we were both here and ready. Really ready. And when his clothing joined mine on the floor, there was no going back.
“Don’t stop,” I said, just in case he had any doubts about what I wanted.
There was a flash of a grin, and then he kissed me again and I was drowning in the rawness of what was building between us. Electricity coursed over our skin, throwing dancing shadows over the walls as he reared up, reaching for the small bedside table beside us.
I flushed, realizing what he was going for. When he sat up and our eyes met, I started to giggle. A wide, beautiful smile broke out across his face, softening lines that held a harsh beauty.
Daemon spoke in his language. The lyrical quality of his words made no sense to me, but they were beautiful, like spoken music that the alien part of me danced to.
“What did you say?” I asked.
He peered up through thick lashes, the foil package in his fist. “There’s really no translation for it,” he said, “but the closest human words would be, you are beautiful to me.”
I sucked in a sharp breath and our gazes locked. Tears built in my eyes. I reached for him, sinking my fingers into his silky hair. My heart was pounding fast, and I knew his was, too.
This was it. And it was right. Perfect without the dinner, movies, and flowers, because how could you really plan something like this? You couldn’t.
Daemon sat back—
A fist pounded on the door, and Andrew’s voice intruded. “Daemon, are you awake?”
We stared at each other in disbelief. “If I ignore him,” he whispered, “do you think he’ll go away?”
My hands dropped to my sides. “Maybe.”
The pounding came again. “Daemon, I really need you downstairs. Dawson is ready to go back to Mount Weather. Nothing Dee or I are saying to him is making a bit of difference. He’s like a suicidal Energizer bunny.”
Daemon squeezed his eyes shut. “Son of a bitch…”
“It’s okay.” I started to sit up. “He needs you.”
He let out a ragged sigh. “Stay here and get some rest. I’ll talk—or beat some sense into him.” He kissed me briefly and then gently pushed me back down. “I’ll be back.”
Settling in, I smiled. “Try not to kill him.”
“No promises.” He stood, pulled on his pajama bottoms, and headed for the door. Stopping short, he looked over his shoulder, his intense gaze melting my bones. “Dammit.”
A few seconds after he stepped out into the hallway and closed the door behind him, there was a fleshly smack and then Andrew yelling, “Ouch. What in the hell was that for?”
“Your timing sucks on an epic level,” Daemon shot back.
Smiling sleepily, I rolled onto my side and ordered myself to stay awake, but as my breathing returned to normal, sleep dragged me under. Sometime later, I heard the door open and then Daemon was beside me, pulling me back against him. It wasn’t long before the steady rise and fall of his chest lulled me back into the rhythm of sleep. Every so often I’d wake up when his arms clenched around me, his embrace so tight I thought he’d cut off my circulation, holding me as if even in his sleep he was haunted by the fear of losing me.
Chapter 23
Daemon and I rode together to school on Monday. The car still carried a musty, wet scent to it, a painful reminder of where our mission had ended—in a river. On the way, Daemon was convinced that his brother had been talked down from bum-rushing Mount Weather, but I knew we needed to come up with another way to get to Beth and Chris. Dawson couldn’t wait forever, and I could understand that. If it were Daemon locked up, I don’t think anyone would be able to stop me.
As soon as we stepped out, I saw Blake leaning against his truck a few spaces down. He pushed off and trotted over the moment he spotted us.
Daemon groaned. “He is not who I want to see as soon as I get to school.”
“Agreed,” I said, wrapping my hand around Daemon’s. “Just remember we are in public.”
“No fun.”
Blake slowed as he reached us, his gaze dipping to our joined hands and then quickly sweeping up. “We all need to talk.”
We kept walking—or Daemon kept walking. “Talking to you is the last thing I want to do.”
“I can understand that.” He caught up to us. “But I seriously didn’t know about the onyx shields in the doors. I had no idea.”
“I believe you,” Daemon said.
Blake’s step faltered. “You punched me.”