Her heart swelled. She wound her hands around his waist and walked her fingers up his spine, gentling her own kiss, showing him with her mouth and body that she felt the same way, that she still wasn’t leaving. “I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere. Don’t stop kissing me, Nick.”
One hand closed around her breast to squeeze, and his tongue tangled with hers in an erotic dance. But it wasn’t the hard bruising grasp of before. This was softer, more electrifying, and tingles ignited all through her torso and shot straight back down into her sex, reigniting every ounce of her arousal. Grasping her skirt at the thigh, he dragged it up again, then carefully lifted her leg and hooked it around his hip.
“Cynna…” He rocked against her and dropped his forehead to hers, struggling to find his breath while his hard length rubbed over her clit. “Ah gods, Cynna… I need to be inside you.”
He was asking, not telling. His thumb brushed over her nipple, sending shards of desire straight into her core. Giving, not taking. Her heart swelled even more because he was back. She hadn’t lost him. He was still hers.
“Yes.” She lifted her mouth to his and kissed him slowly, deeply, then reached for the button at his waistband and popped it free. “Yes, I need that too. But mostly, I just need you.”
She slid her hand inside his pants. He groaned and sank into her kiss. As her fingertips brushed over his pulsing length, so hard and engorged, she pushed against the fabric at his hips, desperate to free him so she could feel him moving inside her.
He lifted his mouth from hers abruptly. Fear rushed back in, that she’d misread things, that he was still on the edge. But he didn’t grab her or push her or even reach for her. Instead, he turned his face toward the entrance to the alley and went completely still.
“What—”
“Shh.”
Her fingers froze inside his pants, the other hand against his hip, and she turned to see what he was looking at. Only she couldn’t see anything but the fading afternoon light. And she didn’t hear anything other than her roaring pulse and his shallow breaths.
“Nick?”
He stepped quickly away, dislodging her hands from his body, then lowered her leg and dropped her skirt. Buttoning his jeans, he said, “Someone’s coming.”
Cynna didn’t care if someone was approaching or not. “I don’t hear anything.” She reached for him. “Come here.”
“Shh.” Gently, he pushed her hands away. “Fix your shirt. They’re almost here.”
Frustrated, Cynna pushed away from the wall and tugged down her shirt, hating the chill that spread over her skin after all his delicious heat. He wasn’t looking at her. She needed him to look at her. “Nick—”
“I’m pretty sure he went this way,” a voice called somewhere close.
Skata. Her gaze shot to the right. He was right. People were coming. Stomach tightening, Cynna stepped away from the wall and tried to smooth out her skirt. But Nick’s hand around her arm stopped her.
She drew in a breath and looked up. His eyes were warm pools of liquid amber as he moved in close, cradled her face in his hands, then lowered his mouth to hers in the sweetest, softest kiss. And every bit of fear, of frustration, of worry slid right out of her with that simple brush of his lips over hers.
“Thank you,” he whispered. “I know what you did.” He rested his forehead against hers and drew in a shuddering breath. “I’m sorry I can’t control it. Sorry I did that to you. I—”
“Shh.” She lifted her fingers to his jaw and brushed them over his scruffy cheek. “No apologies. I’m not hurt. Not even close. And I meant what I said. I’m not leaving. I’ll do whatever it takes—as many times as it takes—to bring you back.”
He groaned, took her lips in a swift, delicious kiss, then released her. “I’ll make this up to you. I promise.”
He took a step away before she was ready to let him go, and as the cool afternoon air replaced all his sultry heat, her heart took a hard, irretrievable tumble. Because she knew right then that what she felt for him was stronger than love. It was the kind of emotion a person was willing to sacrifice everything for.
“Nick?” a male voice rang out from the end of the alley. “Shit, man. We’ve been looking all over for you.”
Cynna swallowed hard and turned. Two males stalked toward them from the end of the alley. The first was tall and blond, the second more muscular, his eyes more intense. A whisper of worry rushed down her spine because she recognized both of them from the day she and Nick had been brought to the castle. The second especially, because he was the leader of the Argonauts.
“Zander,” Nick said, glancing toward the blond, then shifting his gaze to the other male. “Theron. What’s wrong?”
“You need to come back to the castle ASAP,” Theron said.
Concern flooded Nick’s features, and though Cynna knew he couldn’t help it because of the whole soul mate thing, a sick feeling stirred in the pit of her stomach. “Why? Is everyone okay?”