Happy Tuesday, lovelies!
I've spent the last couple days curled up under a mound of blankets with Ravished, hiding out from Titan. The storm has been a beast! As much as I detest summer, I'm beginning to look forward to warmer months. It'll be wonderful to sit outside and write again! I miss doing that.
I hope warmer, gentler weather is upon all of you soon too.
But just in case you're hiding out under the blankets today, I thought I'd give you another little teaser to warm you up. This is from one of my all-time favorite scenes in Ravished... The entire scene is so raw and so intense... I get lost in it every single time.
I hope you enjoy it. As usual, all errors are my own.
Also... strong language advisory. Tristan likes cursing almost as much as I do. #sorrynotsorry.
* * *
"Stop apologizing and
talk to me, beautiful," Tristan murmured, not interested in Lillian's apologies but
in the truth. In her letting him in before he really did go mad. "What's
going on in that head of yours?"
She hesitated and then
straightened, her shoulders going back on a deep breath. "You keep telling
me to let you in, but you won't give me the same thing in return. I care about
you, and I don't know how to deal with that."
Tristan's heart threatened
to expand. His lungs filled with air, the first real breath he felt like he'd
been able to take all damn day.
Lillian wasn't finished
though.
She bit her lip and inhaled
deeply before continuing, "I don't want to stand here and argue with you.
Every time we get close to this conversation, we end up fighting, and I am so
tired of fighting with you, Tristan. So tired. And yet, we keep doing it. Every
time, you do something that makes me crazy, and we start all over again. It's
exhausting. Not knowing where I stand with you or what you want from me…. It's too
much."
"What do you want me to
say?" he asked, putting his hand against the wall and hanging his head. He
didn't want to fight with her either, but Christ, he didn't know what to say
anymore than she did. "What do you want from me?"
She muttered wordlessly,
shifting behind him. "I want you to say that I'm not the only one going
insane over here. That I'm not seeing things between us where they don't exist.
That you're tired of fighting what's between us too! Hell, Tristan, I don't know what I want you
to say or do. I just want to know that I'm not the only one who feels this way. Not
knowing… I hate it. I hate it so much."
Ah, Christ. She was killing
him, one little confession at a time.
"That you're not the
only one who feels what, beautiful? The way my heart fucking aches when I look
at you?" he asked when she fell silent, turning toward her again. His
heart responded to her immediately, aching just like he'd told her it did. And Jesus H.
Christ, he was so tired of fighting what that did to him, of feeling like he
should, for her sake. "The way my skin crawls when I can't touch
you? The way I can't shut my mind off because every fucking thought belongs to
you these days? I dragged you into this bullshit because I couldn't stop
myself, Lillian. I wanted you. I still want you. I want to possess you. I want
you as fucking crazy as you make me. Does knowing that make it better for you? Does
that make it easier for you? It certainly doesn't for me."
He stepped up beside her,
ran his hand down her cheek.
The rest of the fight went
out of her right before his eyes. It drained from her entirely, leaving
her eyes wide and watery and her arms wrapped around herself as if she tried to
physically hold herself together. She looked so much smaller suddenly, so much
more fragile than the woman who'd given him hell for the last few weeks.
"I'm dying to be inside
you, Lillian," he whispered, "but I'm not good for you and it kills
me that I can't have you."
"That's not your decision
to make," she mouthed, nuzzling her cheek into the palm of his hand.
"It's mine."
"No, it's not." He
shook his head, his resolve wavering, slipping away as she looked up at him,
pleading silently with those watery, dilated eyes for exactly what he wanted to
give her. "You deserve more than anything I can offer you. Christ,
beautiful, all I've done since the beginning is put you in danger. Is that
really the kind of guy you want in your life?"
"I don't know,"
she sighed. "I just want you. God, I want you so much I can't think
straight when you touch me." A tear slipped down her cheek, wrecking him.
"Lillian, please
don't-"
She shook her head, cutting
him off. "But I can't do this anymore. I tried so hard to just take things between us as they come and I can't. I feel insane and I just… can't. We can't. I don't
know. I don't know why you make me feel like this, but you do. I don't know
what to do, Tristan, and I am so tired of being scared. I'm just done. I'll
tell Jason I changed my mind. I'll..." she trailed off, another tear
rolling down her cheek. "I'm sorry." She sounded so fucking
devastated as she whispered that apology, his chest ached again.
"How do I make you
feel, beautiful?" He swiped at her tears, hating that he'd made her cry.
Hating that she'd reached her limit somewhere in that club and was ready to
walk away now when she hadn't been earlier.
Christ, he couldn't let her
walk away. He should, he knew that, but now that it'd come right down to it...
he couldn't let her go. Not when he wanted her to stay, and not when she
sounded like going would break her in two.
"It doesn't
matter."
"It does," he
argued softly. "It matters to me."
She shook her head, trying
to deny him that truth.
"Tell me, beautiful.
Please."
Lillian sighed heavily and
gave in again. "You make me feel like I need you and it's terrifying. Like
not having you may kill me. Like… like you might consume me if I let you. Like
I want to let you. I don't know." She shook her head again. Her
frustration was one he understood completely. "You scare me, Tristan. What
you make me feel scares the shit out of me, but I want it anyway and I don't
know how to stop. I don't want to stop. God, it's not supposed to be like
this!"
She felt it too, that
consuming need. The clawing addiction and burning desperation.
Knowing that, he couldn't
just let go. He couldn't just let her
go.
Fuck. He was fucked.
He couldn't stop the way she
made him feel. Couldn't fight it. He wanted her so badly, and hearing her say
she wanted him just as much destroyed him entirely. Ripped away every reason
why he couldn't have her and left nothing behind. Nothing but need, and
desperation to take, to claim, to soothe, consume, and possess. An overwhelming
desire to keep her here with him regardless of the consequences.
He was so fucking selfish.
"I'll call him-"
Once again, she sounded defeated, torn. Like she already regretted making that
decision.
"No." Tristan
shook his head, his decision made. It'd been made two weeks ago. They both knew
it. "Don't. I can't-" He curled his hand around her nape, dragging
her closer when words failed. He shook his head, a frantic edge to his voice. "I
don't want you to go."
* * *
FALL– The Ragnarök Prophesies: Book Two is now available at Amazon,
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KOBO. FADE - The Ragnarök Prophesies: Book Two is available at: Amazon US |
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