Page 73 of Molt

“Probably.”

“We have to stop.”

“Then stop.”

He kisses me again.

A laugh escapes against his mouth.

“There she is,” he whispers.

I pull back. “What?”

His eyes search mine. “My Lenora.”

The words should scare me.

Instead they hurt. In a beautiful way. A terrible way.

I kiss him again. Slower this time. The desperation changes into something else. Something deeper.

His mouth trails along my jaw.

My head tips back. The moment his lips touch the new skin along my neck, my entire body shudders.

“August.” I moan.

He groans softly against me.

That sound goes straight through me.

My fingers slip into his hair.

He grips my waist. “Careful.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m trying very fucking hard to remember that we’re supposed to be afraid.”

“I’m terrified.”

“So am I.”

“Then why does this feel...” I stop.

“Like what?”

“Right.”

He goes still.

I hate how vulnerable that word feels.

“Does it feel right to you?”

His answer comes immediately. “Every time.”

My chest aches.