Page 136 of Bonds of Starfall

"I wish I could tell you, Ves." He paused. "Do you believe in fate?"

Her fingertip swirled in the slight condensation left on the counter from the glass. "Maybe I did at one point, but I’ve gone through too much to think everything happens for a reason anymore. Why? Do you?" Her grey eyes trapped him, pinning him to the spot.

The incubus swallowed. "Yes. I met you after all this waiting. I knew it’d happen eventually, and here you are."

"Here I am," she sighed, wistful bitterness clouding her pretty words. She was pretty all over. Everywhere. He loved, loved, loved her. His pretty doll.

Cyrus ached to be near her—since he couldn’t be inside her… and he didn’t mean that sexually, not really. Just that he loved her so much, he wanted to wrap himself around her and never let her go. Merge their Souls.

He rounded the counter and stood by her side, a hand outstretched, reaching for hers. She crossed the last distance, clasping his hand; something in him eased.

He sighed. Given permission, he took control, holding her hand fiercely, fingers tracing over the back of her palm, running his nose along her wrist.

Beings like him were ruled by scent and touch.

"I didn’t wither him because some part of me sensed, on some intrinsic level, that he belonged to you." He looked up at her from under his lashes, relishing the pink on her cheeks.

Vesperin’s throat worked. "That… that can’t be true, Cyrus."

Cyrus leaned over her, shifting until she was caged against the countertop. "I still have to make up for our first time." Her cherry scent was dripping with desire. Red sparks glimmered in the air, but he reined them in. He’d made a promise.

The incubus dropped to his knees before her, palms on her thighs as his chin brushed her lower stomach. He stared up at her. The kitchen floor was hard against his knees, but the faint bite of discomfort did nothing to distract him from his need.

"What are you doing?" she breathed. Her fingers tangled in his hair, and he groaned as she tugged slightly.

He bent, nose pushing up her large shirt. It smelled like the vampire, and he gritted his teeth. He wanted to replace that scent with his own.

"Trying to make it up to you, doll," Cyrus crooned, nose against her bare stomach, skimming below her navel. Her flesh jumped under him.

Her fingers tightened in his hair. "Someone could walk in…"

"Let them," he mumbled against her flesh, fingertips skimming under the waistband of her leggings.

She stopped him with a harsh yank on his hair. He moaned.

"Do you need to feed? Is that what this is?" She forced his head to move until he stared up at her.

"I need you. I fed in the car ride over, when we stopped for gas." It wasn’t nearly enough, but he’d live. She was such a sight standing above him, hands in his hair, leading him. His tone lowered. "You’re so different than the girl I remember. Has anyone ever tasted you before in this life?"

Her lips parted as she drew in a shaky breath. "No. Never."

He moved his head lower, and she let him. He blew a hot breath over the apex of her thighs, knowing she’d feel it through the thin material of her leggings.

"Then let me be the first, please. I want to taste you. Let me make it up to you—how I took you so desperately on Sibeth. I can be better for you," Cyrus pleaded.

He had said almost the same words in her life before. And just like then, she melted.

Her acquiescence lingered in the air, so strong he could taste it. Her lips opened as she started to speak and?—

A phone rang.

Vesperin’s eyes squeezed shut. "Fuck," she muttered.

"Yes, I want to." Cyrus kissed the exposed skin of her lower stomach.

She tugged on his hair in reprimand and twisted as she reached for her phone, where it lay on the counter. He followed after her, unwilling to release her. When she settled, he continued kissing over her stomach, fingers tickling underneath her waistband.

"It’s Sabine," she said. "I have to answer this." A silent warning was in her eyes as she pressed a button and raised the phone to her ear.