“Gods, I’ve missed the taste of you.” Even his mental voice comes across as a groan. “The feel of you in my arms.”
I bring my hands to his face and pull him back to my lips. He sucks my tongue into his mouth, and I whimper because I can say the exact same thing about him—I’ve missed everything about his taste, his kiss, him.
If any of those buttons on my flight jacket come undone, they’re all coming undone.
The slant of his mouth over mine again and again makes me feel alive for the first time since… Gods, I can’t even remember. Since the last time he kissed me.
His hand squeezes my waist gently, then stretches up, the tips of his fingers reaching just beneath my breasts. Fuck it, the jacket can come off. So can the top. The armor. Everything that separates me from him.
I reach for the buttons.
But he eases his kiss, taking it from urgent and deep to thorough and deliciously slow. “We should stop.”
“What if I don’t want to?” The physical sound that leaves me is pure denial. I’m not ready for this to end, not ready to return to the reality where we’re not together, even if I’m the one standing in our way.
“We have to, or I won’t be able to keep to the only kiss limitation of your hypothetical question.” His hand drifts to my ass as his mouth softens, drawing on my lower lip with one last, lingering kiss. “Fuck, I want you.”
“Then don’t stop.” I look him in the eyes so he knows I mean it. “We can keep it to nothing but sex. We did last year… Not that it worked well.”
“Violet.” It’s part plea, part moan, and the war in his eyes makes my chest tighten. “You have no idea how badly I want to peel these pants off your amazing ass and fuck you until you’re hoarse from screaming my name, so limp from orgasms that you can’t fathom leaving my bed ever again, and every tree around here goes up in flames from lightning strikes.” His hand slides from behind my head to the nape of my neck. “Until you remember exactly how good we are together.”
“I never forgot.” It’s a whimper. My body is still humming.
“I’m not talking about physically.” He leans in and kisses me softly.
It’s sweet. Tender. Everything I don’t want to feel. Not when it comes to him. Heat and lust, I can cope with. But the rest? “Xaden,” I whisper, shaking my head slowly.
He studies my face for a heartbeat and masks the flash of disappointment with a half smile.
“Exactly.” He gently lowers me back to my feet, then steadies me, holding on to my waist when my knees wobble. “I want you more than my next breath, but I can’t fuck you into looking at me like you used to. I refuse to use sex as a tool to get you back.” He takes my hand and presses it to my chest. “Not when I want to be here.”
My eyes widen, and apprehension knots my stomach.
“That’s what I thought.” He sighs, but it’s not defeat tightening his mouth. It’s frustration. “You still don’t trust me, and that’s all right. I told you I’m not in this for a battle. I’m winning the damned war. I’m a fucking fool for saying this, but when haven’t I been a fool when it comes to you?”
“Excuse me?” I bristle. His memory must be faulty, because I’m the one who’s been the fool for him.
“Let me get this out.” He glances at my mouth. “I’ll kiss you whenever you want because my self-control is shit where you’re involved—”
“Whenever I want?” My brows shoot up. What the hell is happening right now?
“Yes, whenever you want, because I’ll live with my mouth attached to yours if I do it whenever I want.” He retreats a couple of steps, and I immediately miss the feel of his hands, the warmth of his skin. “But I’m begging you, Violet. Don’t offer me your body unless you’re offering me everything. I want you more than I want to fuck you. I want those three little words back.”
I stare at him, my mouth dropping open slightly. He’s not asking to hear that I want him. He wants to hear that I love him.
“It’s new territory for me, too.” He rakes his hands through his hair. “No one is more surprised than I am, trust me.”
“I’m sorry, but weren’t you the one last year who said we could have all the sex we wanted as long as we kept feelings out of it?” I fold my arms across my chest.
“See? Fucking fool.” He looks up at the rough-beamed ceiling like it has the answers. “Last year, I would have used any method it took to win you back, but for those three days you were unconscious, all I did was sit there and watch you sleep, thinking of everything I would have done differently.” Determination is etched on every line of his face when he brings his gaze back to mine. “This is me doing things differently.”
Somehow in the last month, we’ve managed to switch roles.
“This is me proving myself to you.” He steps back and pulls the door open, gesturing for me to walk out first, then rests his hand on the small of my back as we walk down the hall. “We’re not there yet, but you’ll trust me again at some point.”
“Sure, as soon as you agree to stop keeping secrets from me.” How the hell is this my fault?
His sigh sounds like it’s ripped out of his very soul. “You need to trust me even with secrets for this to work.”
I grab onto the stair railing and take the stairs two at a time. “That’s not going to happen.”
“It will,” he says as we near the ground floor, then changes the subject. “Are you hungry?”
“I need to wash up first.” My nose crinkles. “Pretty sure I smell like I’ve been flying eight hours.”
“Why don’t you head on into my room, and I’ll bring food.” His hand slips from my lower back as we make our way into his barracks room. He points to the left and says, “That door leads to a private bathing chamber.”
“There’s no way you got a private bathing chamber as a brand-new lieutenant,” I sputter. “Mira doesn’t even have one.”
“You’d be amazed what you can get when no one wants to share space with Fen Riorson’s son,” he answers quietly.
My stomach sinks. I can’t think of a single thing to say to that.
“Don’t look so sad. Garrick has to share with four other riders. Go.” He motions to the door again. “I’ll be right back.”
An hour later, I’m clean and fed, and Xaden is sitting at his desk, fiddling with something that looks like a crossbow but smaller, as I sit on his bed and run a brush through my damp hair. I can’t help but smile at the steady feeling of what’s becoming routine, Xaden preparing a weapon while I sit on a bed.
“But they didn’t search Tairn?” he asks without looking up.
