MARKED | COMPLETED

Chapter 22

His mouth was warm. His lips curved, molded, so easily against mine that there seemed to be no moment of confusion. There was no awkward seconds of stumbling or the accidental bump of noses against each other. All there seemed to be within those few seconds were labored breaths and a near constant need to get closer—to feel more.

Heat lingered on his skin, searing through the thin fabric of his shirt and onto mine. My senses were overflowing with everything about Aisling; it became so much more than the tension that filled me every time he touched my hand or cheek. I committed every inch of him to my memory—the taste of the fruit he'd stolen from the kitchen, and the crisp, fresh smell of his aftershave. His golden hair felt like silk beneath my fingertips.

The flurry of heat bubbling deep in the pit of my stomach felt ready to explode, but I made no attempt to snuff the feeling out.

He wound his fingers tightly into my hair, keeping me firm within his hold as he moved expertly against me as if I'd move away if I was given the opportunity. But I was stuck; I felt fastened in my spot with need and desire, that even if he held his arms wide open and told me to move I wouldn't do it.

There was so much sensation that I felt consumed, drowning in Aisling as it seemed.

More importantly, that wall he'd built between us had broken down. I felt everything that he did—how he felt, all those feelings he'd kept hidden from me crashed into me like a giant, brilliant waves that I felt lost in the current. I wasn't sure where his feelings ended and mine began. Somehow, it all felt warped together in this pool of light and heat.

Soon, all thought washed away once his tongue touched at the seam of my lips. I gasped, softly, and the flavor of apricots on his tongue drew a low moan from my mouth.

With so much heat and need, I couldn't help but think how different this was from our kiss before. Before it seemed so innocent—a stolen kiss underneath the shadow of a tree—to now. I found myself laughing, breaking the moment.

He unlocked the hand from my hair. He appeared to look offending in a mocking way. The hand he had in my hair reached up to rub at his lips.

Soon, that hand wound its way around my waist to join the other, clasping softly behind my back to pull me even closer than I already was.

He clicked his tongue. He could act as mad as he wanted, but I saw right through it. "I'm glad that you can find something to laugh about—while I'm kissing you."

"I'm sorry," I said with a half-chuckle. "I just had a thought."

I seemed to be forgiven, and he pressed another kiss to my lips, this time softer. For once, since the moment all of this began, he looked genuinely happy. I was frustrated that my laughter ruined our moment, but to be able to let my gaze wander over his features and see that he was truly elated made me feel so much better.

It wasn't long before I found myself feeling the same way. I found myself thrilled and happy around him that it almost seemed weird and odd to feel any different.

He sighed, longingly, as he pressed his forehead to mine.

"I'm so glad it's you."

#

Aisling had forgone all attempts at making me shift faster, only because it proved to be time-consuming, and neither of us knew when the conflict would really begin. So, he'd taught me the basics—as though this were all brand new to me—of my stances; he taught me how to hold my own ground. Essentially, somewhere through his lesson, I realized that he was treating me as if I hadn't beaten Deering.