Chapter 37: Splintered Threads
Josie
The second my lips met Varen’s, something in me unraveled.
I gasped as I melted into his kiss, my hands fisting the soft fabric of his shirt, anchoring myself to the heat of his body. His mouth was a heady drug, firm but unhurried, and every brush of his lips against mine made me feel like I was burning from the inside out.
"Varen..." I breathed, but he swallowed my voice with another kiss.
He tasted like mint and warmth and something unmistakably him—earthy, steady, dangerous. My moan was soft, almost helpless, escaping as his hand curled around my waist, dragging me flush against his body. The feel of his palm against my waist made me tremble. He groaned low in his throat, deep and guttural, and my breath hitched in response.
I had never felt wanted like this before. Not in a way that felt like the world was quiet and everything narrowed down to a single touch, a single breath, a single man.
His lips slanted over mine again, more desperate now, more consuming. The way he kissed made my toes curl and my stomach flutter. I felt dizzy, lightheaded, like I’d stepped out of my body entirely. My fingers slid up his chest, feeling the muscles shift beneath his shirt.
And then the door flew open.
We broke apart instantly, but Varen didn’t let go of me. He pressed a soft peck to my lips as if claiming me, grounding me before we both turned to face the doorway.
My heart stuttered painfully.
Kiel was standing there, arms crossed, his eyes sharp and narrow like knives carved from ice. And beside him—unapologetically composed—was Thorne.