Page 100 of Ex Somnis

“Just don’t run from me this time,” he murmurs, then his mouth finds mine.

His lips are so soft and taste faintly of the lemonade he always drinks, like he carried the flavor of waking life into the clouds with him. His hand cups the back of my head, thumb brushing the spot behind my ear, and I melt into it.

He hums against my mouth as if something satisfies him, and I whisper his name against his lips. “Nevan.”

He pulls back, all at once, as if a switch turned on.

I open my eyes and find him staring at me. His gray eyes are wide in a way I’ve never seen on him before, while his chest is rising fast.

“Are you…” I search his face. “Are you lucid?”

He reaches up slowly, pinches his nose shut, then breathes through it.

His eyes go even wider.

“Nevan.”

His throat bobs.

“Nev.”

The clouds around us ripple as he stares at me like I’m something impossible. His gaze drifts slowly over my face, and the freckles across his nose stand out darker when his cheeks flush.

“Lemon,” he says quietly.

My stomach flips. “What?”

“Shit.” He laughs once under his breath, disbelieving. “I thought you all were making this up.”

I snort. “Rude.”

“No, I just…” He looks around at the clouds, then back at me. “I didn’t think it could feel this real.”

His attention drops to my mouth and stays there, while his tongue wets his bottom lip, making my pulse stutter.

“Careful,” I tease softly. “Don’t get too excited, or you’ll wake up.”

For a breath, I think he’s going to wake up anyway, but instead, his eyes lift back to mine.

The breeze catches a strand of my hair and blows it across my face. Nevan reaches up automatically and tucks it behind my ear. The gesture is so familiar, my heart aches.

“You’re really here.”

“Yeah.”

“I know we have a lot to discuss,” he murmurs, his thumb gliding over my bottom lip. “And I don’t know how long I can be lucid, but I’m not done with kissing you yet.”

Before I can say anything to that, he leans in and kisses me again.

Not cautiously this time.

His fingers tighten in my hair, enough to tip my head back, and heat flares low in my belly as he licks into my mouth, like he’s savoring the taste of me too. His tongue slides against mine in a long drag that pulls a helpless sound from my throat. He drinks it down, humming approval, and the vibration travels straight through me. The swing creaks beneath us as he grabs my wrist and pulls me fully onto his lap, my knees bracketing his hips, skirt riding up my thighs. His free hand settles at the small of my back, big, warm, and possessive, pressing me closer until my chest is flush against his.

“Fuck, Lemon,” he breathes out against my lips, voice rough in a way I’ve never heard from him in waking life. “Promise never to leave me again.”

His pinky brushes mine, and I hook my finger around it.

“I promise.” I don’t know what I’m doing, or why I’m doing this, but the sheer relief of having him here, of knowing that we’re good, makes me rock against him instinctively, chasing friction.