Chapter 8: Black Lace

Alaric opened the door in grey sweatpants and nothing else.

He had a book in one hand. He dropped it when he saw me.

I was wearing the black lace and my cardigan, and the cardigan was open.

"Wynne," he said.

"You said you wouldn't touch me until I asked," I said.

His eyes went down once, and came back up so slowly that I felt every inch of it.

"I'm asking," I said.

"You were rejected four days ago."

"I accepted four days ago, and I stopped hurting on Saturday. I'm not asking because of Corbin."

He didn't move.

"I'm asking because you gave me a greenhouse and stood out of my light," I said.

"And because I want you. Don't make me say it twice."

He shut the door behind me.

Then his hands were in my hair, and his mouth was on mine.

I had been kissed before, by a boy who kept stopping to check that it was all right.

Alaric didn't stop, and he groaned into my mouth when I opened for him.

My cardigan hit the floor.

His hands slid down my back and found the lace, and he stopped breathing.

"You wore this for me," he said against my jaw.

"I bought it for someone else," I said. "I'm wearing it for you."

"Good."

He lifted me.

I wrapped my legs around his waist and felt how hard he was through the cotton, pressed against me. My whole body lit up.

He laid me down on his bed and knelt over me.

His mouth went to my throat, and then lower, over the lace, and he dragged it down with his teeth.

He took my nipple into his mouth.

I arched off the sheets and heard myself make a sound I didn't recognize.

"Louder," he said.

His hand went down my stomach and under the lace.

He found my pussy and I was already wet. He swore low in his throat.

"Look how ready you are," he said.

His fingers slid through me, slow and sure, and found my clit and circled it.

I gripped the headboard.

"Alaric."

"Say it again."

"Alaric, please."

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