Page 59 of The Sun & Her Burn


Font Size:

Oh,fuck.

At that moment, I would willingly sell my soul to the devil if it meant living in this damn pantry in this man’s arms forever.

It had been years since I kissed a man and even longer since I’d kissedthisman.

My man.

I had no choice but to drop one hand down the back of his thin grey sweatpants and palm his naked arse, the hard muscle flexing as he ground into me. His groan vibrated over my tongue, and I swallowed it down like ambrosia.

My blood, my bones, my very soul felt on fire.

I couldn’t breathe or think.

I thought I might actually be dying.

And then there was a little knock on the door that exploded in my ears like a bomb.

I tore myself away from Sebastian with the gasp of a man exploding through the crust of the ocean after minutes of drowning.

He let me pull away, hands dropping into spasming fists, expression so utterly wrecked with longing and passion and malcontent I felt I might be ill.

A moment later, Linnea pushed the door open and appeared in the doorway. The light from the wide windows in the kitchen behind her limned her in gold light and cast her features in absolute shadow.

What could she be thinking? I wondered wildly as desire curdled into panic.

There was no disguising the sexual tension mottling the air like heat waves between Seb and me, no wiping the beard burn from our cheeks or the swollen cast of our mouth.

There could be no mistake about the fact that we had just been kissing like our lives depended on it.

And for a moment there, it felt as if that was exactly what was at stake.

My whole life for one of Sebastian’s kisses.

I wondered wildly if that was a bargain I would be crazynotto take.

“You’re bleeding,” Linnea said finally, softly, stepping forward as if into a bomb zone.

I stared down at my bleeding hand dumbly, having totally forgotten about it.

Linnea was suddenly in front of me, her sandals crunching on a piece of glass from a shattered jar. Her touch was light as she took my hand in hers and clucked her tongue.

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” she murmured, trying to meet my eyes.

I nodded, unable to look into that knowing violet gaze.

She nodded slowly before dropping my hand and moving to Sebastian. I watched from the corner of my eye as she raised to her tiptoes to touch a spot of blood on Sebastian’s neck.

It was my blood, deposited in a gruesome handprint on his throat.

The sight of it made my softening cock kick hard in my jeans.

“You, too,” she suggested mildly to Seb.

He swallowed thickly and shook his head, looking like a spooked horse seconds from galloping away.

“Hey,” she whispered, smoothing a hand over his pectoral—over his heart. “It’s okay. Just go into the kitchen and I’ll help you, okay?”

He looked down at her, expression softening as if noticing it was Linnea for the first time. One big hand raised to brush a lock of layered hair out of her face.