Page 128 of The Bound Blood
“I’m trying not to beg,” I admit.
A low sound leaves him—something between amusement and approval. The shadows respond, slipping higher, skimming over my knees, my thighs, my stomach. Never lingering where I want them to most. Always stopping just short, retreating the second my body tilts toward the contact.
I bite my lip, frustrated and breathless.
“Maybe I want to hear you beg,” he says. His eyes are filled with so much desire I think I might burn up on the spot.
“Yeah?” I pant. He might get his wish if he keeps going. I’ve never been this worked up without being physically touched by the person I’m with.
The shadows tug at my pants, unfastening them with infuriating care before easing them down my legs. They take their time—until the fabric is gone, and I’m left in my underwear, exposed and waiting.
Kael doesn’t move.
His gaze drags over me, slow and deliberate, like he’s savoring the sight. One shadow brushes my hip, another tracesthe line of my thigh, then retreats again, leaving my skin buzzing with the absence.
“You’re doing very well,” he murmurs. “Still no begging.”
I swallow, my hands curling into the sheets as the shadows tease once more, feather-light and maddening.
“And yet,” he adds softly, stepping just close enough that I could touch him if I wanted to, “you want to.”
I reach for him.
He chuckles, low and satisfied, and the shadows react instantly—wrapping around my wrist and tugging it above my head, pinning my hand to the bed with effortless control.
“Kael…”
“Mmm,” he hums, eyes burning as he watches me strain against the hold. “Almost.”
The shadows tighten—not painful, just firm enough to remind me who’s in charge. Another brushes my side, then my thigh, then retreats again, leaving my skin aching for contact that never quite comes.
“You rush,” he says gently. “I don’t.”
He leans down then, close enough that his breath ghosts over my mouth, close enough that every nerve in my body lights up—but he doesn’t kiss me.
“I’m going to savor every second of this.”
I whimper despite myself.
His smile deepens.
The shadows respond, slipping higher again, tracing slow, maddening paths over my skin before pulling away at the last possible second. My body arches, chasing what they deny me, and Kael watches it all like it’s a private indulgence.
“You feel that?” he asks softly. “That need building?”
“Yes,” I breathe.
His thumb finally brushes my jaw, tilting my face up to his. For one perfect, torturous second, I think he’s going to close thedistance—instead, he pauses. Lets the tension stretch. Lets me feel every inch of the space between us.
“I’ve felt this every second since I first saw you in that diner,” he says quietly. “I fought it. Tried not to admit I wanted it—just like you’re doing now.”
My chest tightens at the confession. At the raw honesty in his voice.
“I’m not fighting,” I whisper. “I’m exactly where I want to be.”
His gaze softens, just a fraction. “I know,” he says quietly. “That’s why I can take my time.”
The shadows shift, easing their hold just enough that I can move—but not enough to escape. Not that I want to. My breath stutters as they skim my skin again, slower now, more deliberate, like they’re savoring me the way he promised he would.
