Page 26 of Glimmer and Burn (Unity #1)

“No, I won’t be escorted away like this is some unwanted social call. We have to discuss what happened.”

“No, darling, we really don’t.”

“And you have a drinking problem, by the way,” she yelled.

Devin’s jaw hardened. “Yes, I’m well aware of my problems. Unfortunately, it’s the only way I can pretend I’m not some abomination looked upon with either pity or disdain.”

That gave her pause. “I don’t…”

“You don’t what? Look at me with pity for being a half-fae bastard?

You may not realize it, Mira, but others do.

I know people like your father like to think this city is built on tolerance, but I assure you, those of us that test that tolerance know the truth.

People will never accept those that are different. They’re too scared.”

“I’m not scared,” Miranda said, chin in the air. She was so sheltered, yet wanting so badly to be noble, it was almost charming. Except, it also hurt. “I don’t look at you any different. I commented about the drinking because I don’t want to see you hurting yourself.”

“So, you’d be okay being seen with me in public?

Fine with the looks? With the whispered comments?

Content with losing valuable social alliances because you chose to associate with the notorious bastard who should never have been a lord in the first place?

What happened at the ball was merely a taste of the ruin you’d face, and that’s not even commenting on the dangers of you being here in the middle of the night. ”

Miranda was quiet, and Devin shook his head. “Listen, it’s not your fault. This is the way the world is, sweetheart. You and I are just stuck with it.”

“No, I want to be one of those that change it. That’s the whole reason Unity exists. We’re trying to overcome all this, and I know some people have latched on to the old ways of thinking, but they won’t be in charge forever—”

He stepped into her space, crowding her with his height and broader build. She swallowed, but met his stare with her own resolution.

“Your ideals are admirable, but they won’t matter in the end. You and I are not suited,” he said each word slowly, nearly whispering.

“I never said we were suited,” she said, matching his rigid stare. He was too close to her, but once he had started toward her, he hadn’t been able to stop.

“Then why are you here, Miranda?” His hand reached out, feathering down her arm.

“To make sure you were okay,” she said, eyes fluttering till they nearly closed. Her lips parted with shallow breaths.

“Liar.”

Her jaw tensed. Steel consumed the wistful daze in her eyes. She teetered on her feet, but did not retreat. He chanced moving that much closer, fighting to keep his hands at his side. His fingers played at the fabric of her dress, biding their time, waiting for him to finally give in.

“I was also…curious,” she said, then she chewed on her lip as if uncertain.

“You’re likely the only chance I’ll have of…

well, kissing. Was it bad? Or was I…” she licked her lips, and he watched the motion like a tiger stalking prey, “Good at it? Did I do it right?” She looked away, starting to fidget.

He would have laughed. He wanted to. Nothing was more ludicrous than Miranda Wilde standing in front of him like a siren calling to a man on the last fringes of control and thinking she was lacking.

“It is taking considerable strength not to devour you where you stand,” he managed, “And you doubt your capacity to please?”

Her eyes went wide. “I didn’t think…but I didn’t know what I was doing—”

He lifted her chin with his hand, now so close they were pressed together, her breath warm on his lips. “Mira, you are going to have to say no or I’m afraid I’m not going to stop.”

He felt her shiver. He felt it like a surge of longing straight to his cock.

The green of her eyes softened again, and she shook her head. “Please, don’t stop.”

And that simple request was his undoing.

Miranda was molten as Devin kissed her, knees nearly buckling except that his arms had wrapped around her, holding her upright.

Her whole body screamed yes.

But it wasn’t enough—she wanted him closer.

Once again, she was not herself. Some other Miranda was wrapping her arms around his shoulders, air forced through her nose so she didn’t suffocate as she enjoyed each delicious glide of his mouth on hers.

A soft gasp eased up her throat. In the study, she’d almost believed he’d hated kissing her, the way he seemed to merely react.

Now he was kissing her fervently, like she was air and he was drowning.

He backed her toward the couch and before her legs bent in submission, Miranda maneuvered so that Devin fell onto it instead. He stared up at her for a breathless minute, eyes wide.

She had not intended to be rough as she crawled into his lap, squeezing either side of his hips with her thighs to hold him in place, the way she might with an enemy she wanted to subdue.

Her fingers twisted in his collar, like she was pinning him in a fight instead of tasting the lingering bitterness of alcohol in his mouth.

She was fueled by instinct, but she’d never let desire guide her before.

A part of her still wondered if she was doing this right.

Her body was singing, thrumming sensations both sweet and exhilarating.

A blooming, consuming hunger that she was desperate to feed. But did that mean he felt the same?

Whatever his opinion on the matter, he uttered no complaints.

Unable to move anything else, Devin’s hands began to explore her body over her clothes, trailing fire where his fingers pressed or squeezed, like he knew exactly where she wanted to feel pressure.

When her breath caught in her throat, his fingers lingered.

He only stopped the evocative search when his hands reached the swell of her breasts. He waited, teasing at the seam of fabric in her dress but never crossing. It was like he was tentative, unsure how far she was willing to go. Which, honestly, she had not expected.

Truly, she hadn’t known what to expect, but Devin respectfully awaiting her permission before fondling her breasts as she pinned him to the couch and his tongue explored her mouth was not it.

She let her teeth scrape at his lips as she pulled back.

“Do it,” she commanded.

His palm covered her through the dress and she shook her head.

“No,” she whispered, and her fingers turned to claws on the back of his neck. “I know you’re holding back. Don’t.”

“Fuck, Miranda,” he hissed, but he obeyed and worked down her dress, exposing her breasts to the cold air of his apartment.

She moaned into the darkness as his fingers danced over her taut nipples.

A combination of the sensation and the thought of him touching her created a heady mix of tantalization and desire, made her desperate for something she didn’t understand.

Her hips started to move, craving a friction she couldn’t satisfy while still.

She stopped once she felt the hard length of him through her undergarments.

Devin choked on air, his hands flying to her hips and squeezing. For a moment, she was absolutely still.

He didn’t attempt to push her further or to move her as she accepted the idea that this was really happening.

This wasn’t just a kiss, this was an intimate exploration of places normally secretive and hidden.

She had looked through books and illustrations with Lydia, so she knew the basics.

But a lady was not supposed to know what was in a man’s trousers, let alone that grinding against it created the most amazing friction that radiated an even more intense pleasure than his kiss or his hands on her breasts.

It was intoxicating.

She ground her hips into him again.

Devin’s head fell backward as he sucked in a breath through his teeth. His fingers squeezed hard enough to bruise. The sound of him unraveling egged her on, confirming that this was pleasurable for both of them. She continued to rock and adjust until she found the rhythm her body needed.

“Shit...” His voice was rough, strained. And delightfully erotic. His hands left her hips, clawing over his own face as he kept his head back, facing the ceiling instead of her. He was still holding back.

“I won’t break,” she breathed.

“I know that,” he whined, desire and restraint smothering the smooth, confident air he always boasted. “You’re fucking incredible and restraint is killing me.”

“Then don’t use restraint,” she ordered as she continued her even, rhythmic movements.

“You don’t know what you’re asking,” he said, as he bit down on his tongue.

“I could ruin you or worse. I could hurt you or scare you or push you too far without realizing…There are so many ways…” His hands skimmed her hips.

He locked them behind his head. “I want to…” His gaze aligned with her chest, watching her breasts sway up and down from the corner of his eye before he snapped them shut. His breathing grew ragged.

Miranda liked it. Watching him struggle to keep his hands away from her, wanting her with such intensity yet resisting was its own thrill.

His words were stilted, said between breaths, “And, Miranda, my control is wearing very thin,” he swallowed, opening his eyes again, but avoiding the temptation of her chest to glare up at her face. “Very…very thin.”

She bit her lip, excited by the idea that she might make him lose that control.

Perhaps it was her turn to be the irrepressible rake.

She leaned down so that her hair fell over her shoulder in a gentle wave, never ceasing the slow rock of her hips.

“I am literally throwing myself against you,” she ground her hips harder before adding in a sultry whisper, “And now you’re going to disappoint me, Devin? ”