Shards: Book One of the Anderian Series

Chapter 25: A Taste

After the initial shock faded, I realized it wouldn't be so simple to return to my former self. The taste of power had brought me out of the worst of my funk, and while I could be blissfully optimistic about a lot of things to the point of naivety, this wasn't one of them. That moment at the rest stop replayed in my mind until I could only conclude that if Cian had been prepared, the blast wouldn't have so much as budged him. I might convince myself I could do something awe-inspiring with training, but it wasn't something I could accomplish in a few days. Not to mention my captor apparently enjoyed it when I fought back. I refused to be a pawn in whatever sick games he played.

"This is terrible," Cian said as another song started.

"What do you mean?" I snapped, gesturing at the radio. "It's not that much different from what you were listening to. There's a violin, and a woman singing about heartbreak."

"It's not even close. Even when they're singing about sad shit, it's got a beat. This is like a soundtrack you put on before you drown yourself in the bathtub."

"Well, if you hear it in the bathroom tonight, mind your business."

"That's not funny."

"How can you not like death jokes considering you're taking me to be sacrificed?" I bumped up the heat. The car wound its way higher and higher up a mountain, and with every passing mile, the temperature dropped lower and lower. "Oh, now you're giving me the silent treatment? At least I won't have to listen to you bitch about my stellar taste in music."

"About that—"

"Such a serious start to a conversation about music," I teased. It sounded forced to my ear, like someone gave me a script of the old Bria's lines, but maybe if I kept at it, I would feel it again.

"You know that's not what I was bringing up."

"It's getting dark. Are we going to stop to sleep soon?"

"For fuck's sake," he growled, pounding his large hand on the top of the steering wheel. "You've done nothing but sleep for two days."

"Whose fault is that?" Oh, I was feeling it now. "Would you like to count the ways you have fucked my life up since I first laid eyes on you? From start to now or I can go backward. Or maybe the middle. Like the time you choked me half to death in a parking lot."

The muscles of Cian's jaw flexed, and a vein pulsed in his forehead. I loved making him lose his composure. It revealed the cracks in his armor, and if they broke open wide enough, escape might be possible.

"Can we please be serious for a moment? I want to talk to you about what's going to happen at the Synod."

Ignoring him, I counted off on my fingers. "Of course, there's—"

The weight of a warm palm over my mouth cut off my next words. Sliding my eyes to the left, I did my best to glare because he was pressing against me in such a way turning to look at him was impossible. His attention was glued to the icy road ahead, maneuvering around the curves one handed with ease. I attempted to push him off; however, it was like pushing against a boulder, and even if I could figure out how to repeat what I'd done earlier, I wasn't sure it was the brightest idea while we were trapped in the car.

That left me with no choice. I stuck my tongue through my lips and swiped across his skin. His reaction was immediate, his fingers curling into my cheek in warning, but it only spurred me on. Eyes fixed on him, I swirled my tongue over his palm, tracing the grooves and ridges with the tip, trying not to moan as his taste coated my tongue. When had salt and skin ever tasted so decadent and rich? My eyes closed as my imagination went into overdrive, wondering if everything was this good.

Cian put up a good fight, nearly fooling me into believing he was unaffected, but where his face did an excellent job of hiding his emotions, his pants did not. The bulge in his jeans was impressive—almost painful looking. Reaching over the console, I laid my hand on his thigh. He flinched beneath my touch, and his hand came away from my mouth, but somewhere in the last few seconds I'd forgotten what I had hoped to accomplish when I licked him. Now, my only goal was to get that zipper pulled and see what he'd denied me when Kohl showed up.

Moving from his thigh to his fly, I tugged it down slowly, careful not to actually touch him. Eager as I was, there was something to say about delayed gratification, especially when I was the one doing the delaying. But all thoughts of going slowly nearly flew out the window when I caught a hint of veiny peach and realized the Anderian wasn't wearing any underwear.

"Shit," I said in a breathless whisper as I worked my finger into the unzipped jeans. Silky flesh greeted the tip of my finger, and I rubbed it up and down.

"Undo the button, Bria," Cian commanded. At some point, both his hands had returned to the steering wheel, and his knuckles were so white I wasn't sure he could let the wheel go long enough to do the job himself.

"What's the rush?" I asked, stopping just below the button. If he only knew how badly I wanted to do as he asked. One little flick, and his cock would spring free. Perfect for my hand. Even better for my mouth.

Somewhere in the back of my mind, someone whispered this was a terrible idea. We didn't even like each other, and just hours ago, I'd promised myself to not act like a horny teenager. One little taste and all those good intentions went out the window, and to be honest, I didn't even care. If I was going to die, at least let it be with a recent orgasm. Or five.

"Gods woman. You're killing me."

"That's the point," I replied, working at the button but glancing at the front of the car as a sudden jolt of concern washed over me. "Cian, watch out!"

A dark shape bolted across the road. Cian narrowly avoided it, but just when we thought all was well, the back tires hit a patch of ice, and the car fishtailed, the backend swinging wildly over the edge of the road. It was too much, too fast. We both knew it, and I saw fear flash across his face as we tipped backward, finally falling over the cliff.

"It's okay," I told him, touching his face. We would hit something at any moment. A tree would pierce the vehicle, slowing our descent and possibly killing me. Or we would drop until we smashed into the rocks. Either way, Cian would survive, and in that moment, I witnessed how much my death was going to pain him. It was clear to anyone looking into those brilliant blue eyes. "It's probably better this way."

Then the world went silver and soft as he pulled me out of my seat and crushed me against his chest for the second time that day. I gripped his shirt, pressing my face into the material, refusing to cry. I would not die with tears on my face.

Then I knew nothing else.