right in if he wanted to. I’m still wet for him, so wet, more so now that his mouth is on mine again...
“I hate leaving you,” he mumbles, rotating his hips just enough to tease me.
It’s maddening.
He loves doing this, loves to make me beg.
Wriggling beneath him, I roll my hips as much as his weight will allow, seeking far more friction than he’s willing to give me at this hour. “So don’t,” I breathe. “Take me with you.”
“You know I can’t, T. Your mama would have my head.”
“I don’t care. If we hid away together, we could have this all the time without fear of being overheard. We could sleep together, wake up together, have meals together, even laugh together. It’ll be just like this, only so much better.”
But as always when I suggest such things, Peter shakes his head solemnly and breaks free from my hold. He’s on his feet faster than I can blink, shoving his legs into his hunter green trousers. “You know that’s not even a possibility right now. They’d find us one way or another.”
On the one hand, I know he’s right. My parents would tear Rosewood apart if I simply disappeared without notice. They’d align forces with other willing factions, send search parties out until I was found. And yet, on the other hand, I can’t help but think that, if he truly wanted me by his side, he knows Rosewood isn’t our only option. Sure it seems that way with how far overseas other territories lie, but it’s not impossible.
In any case, I don’t ever press him on the topic further than the initial suggestion. Mostly because I’d rather have him like this than not have him at all. I have no desire to quarrel with him about the future when it could very well be that he’s not ready for such a commitment yet. I would never want to force or rush him into something of this nature. I want him to want it in the same equal measure as I.
One day, I keep telling myself. One day he won’t want to crawl into an empty bed, and I’ll be there.
I’ll always be there.
“I’ll see you later, okay?” Fully dressed now, he looms over me, flashing me that boyish grin.
My lips spread coyly in return. “As soon as I’m up, I’ll be at our spot.”
Peter nods and reaches out for me. “Give me one last kiss, T. Come here…”
He doesn’t have to ask me twice. I’m on him in a flurry, winding my limbs around him like a vine.
A bare vine at that.
His warm hands grip my backside as he walks us toward the window, our lips locked, tongues dancing ever so sensually.
“I love you, Peter,” I vow, all but whimpering as he sets me down on my toes and slips out the window into the cool dawn.
“And I you, Tinks,” he whispers. “Dream of me.”
“Always,” I answer, but he doesn’t hear it, not only because it’s a murmur carrying in the wind, but because he’s already gone, dashing his way through the forest to the safety of Lost Lake.
“Good morning,” my mother says rather ambiguously as I amble into the kitchen just hours after Peter left.
That tone.
I know that tone. It’s one she’s given my father on more than one occasion—when she’s not pleased. Combined with the sideways glance she cuts my way, my heart rate spikes, but I remain as indifferent and unaffected as possible, only faltering a step or two along the way. Sometimes I think she knows I sneak Peter in, but I’m quick to push that thought aside.
There’s no way.
Not when we’re so careful.
From the tender way he makes love to me to how he swallows my cries when my climax consumes me. There’s just no way…
“Good morning, mama,” I answer cheerfully, popping a kiss on her cheek as I shuffle behind her.
“There’s tea.” She points her blade at the kettle just a short ways from where she stands.
Again, that tone; curt and clipped, almost cool.
My body locks up and, again, my heart thunders. My mind starts racing, retracing both mine and Peter’s steps from last night. Nothing shoots up red flags, though. We were as quiet as always and I’m positive she was fast asleep when he slipped in through the window to begin with.
I need to relax.
Need to breathe.
Yes, I’m guilty, but if I act like it, it’ll only confirm what suspicions she may have.