Page 95 of Wicked Sea and Sky

Hot. Impatient. As if fate had set him free.

I moaned into his mouth, my stomach clenching as his tongue brushed mine, slowly at first. Testing. Then deeper. More urgent.

Heat licked up my spine, curling my toes. I clutched his tunic, fingers fisting in the fabric, then sliding over the solid planes of muscles beneath. I needed something to hold on to. I needed him closer.

I'd asked for this. Placed a bet, I thought I couldn't lose, and nearly did. Could he taste my fear? The way my pulse skittered with panic and want?

His fingers slipped from my chin, gliding up to cradle my face, thumbs stroking along my jaw like he was learning the feel of it. The same way he'd memorized my hand in the alcove. Like time didn't matter, and the smallest things—the curve of my chin, the hollow behind my ear, the dimple at my cheek—did.

He walked me backward until my shoulders touched the wall.

Gods, his kiss was hypnotic.

The pleasure of it wove around me like a spell, summoning something buried deep inside me. Each brush of his lips, each flick of his tongue, tightened the coil low in my belly. It sharpened the ache until I was mindless with it, pulling him closer, lost in the way he pinned me, his hips grinding into mine, his body caging me in.

As if he’d thought I’d run.

Gavin broke the kiss with a groan, his breath hot against my throat. Then his mouth found my pulse. He kissed it. Explored the sensitive skin there, his lips skimming lower.

“Worth the wait,” he whispered. His teeth scraped lightly over my shoulder. “You are worth every single second.”

I felt those words slip beneath my walls, taking them down stone by stone.

Then he fused his mouth with mine again and lifted me effortlessly, like he hadn't spent the entire day climbing the vine. Like he'd do it again, maybe forever if this waited at the top.

A gasp slipped between my lips. I wrapped my arms around his neck, fingers sinking into his hair as he carried me away from the wall. He didn’t let me go. Not when he reached the hammock. Not when he sank down with me in his lap like I was exactly where I'd always belonged.

His chest rose and fell beneath my palm. His heart was wild. So was mine. I felt it. This moment had always been inevitable. That coin would have landed heads a thousand times.

Fates be damned.

We kissed for long minutes. The urgency bled into something slower. Something searching. His hands gentled, stroking down my back, fingers tracing the curve of my spine as if learning the rest of me.

And I let him.

I whimpered into his mouth, and he eased the kiss, brushing his thumb over my bottom lip like a vow.

We had to stop. I knew that. Too much, too fast might shatter whatever fragile trust was building between us.

But it was like he knew, too.

Gavin kissed me one last time, then let his forehead fall gently against mine. We didn't move. But everything felt different now. Our breaths were ragged, our bodies still pressed together.

Neither of us spoke as I slowly pulled away and lay back against the thick ropes. My fingers fisted in the thin blanket as I tried to slow my heart. Gavin bent at the waist, scrubbing a hand over his face before rising to put out the candles. The room darkened, lit only by the moonlight spilling in through the balcony door.

The hammock swayed as Gavin lay beside me, the ropes shifting until our shoulders touched. Above us, a glass tile framed the stars shimmering in the inky sky. The room was quiet, just the soft creak of the hammock and the wind whispering over the cliff. My skin still tingled where he'd kissed me. My heart ached that he'd stopped.

Then his voice, husky and low, filled the small room.

“It was a weighted coin.”

I blinked in the darkness. “What do you mean?”

“The coin I flipped. I got rid of the old one. But this one is weighted on one side. It always lands heads.”

Warmth curled inside my chest. “So you cheated?”

“You cheated first, thinking I still had my old coin. But yes. I cheated.” Gavin rolled onto his side, facing me in the dark. Faint light spilled across his solemn features. “There’s no way in hell I’d leave a bet like that to chance.”