Visions (The Daevas #2)

24 | Threat

If I felt like I was in heaven when I witnessed Roman as someone more than just the cold, callous man I knew-then I must be in hell, on fire, now. There wasn't anything wrong, of course, but what he was doing to me was something too much to handle. I didn't know what to do. Centuries ago, maybe I did but in my teenage years in the new era, what did I know?

We were standing by the fireplace, kissing at soft at first. But when some fire in me lit up, I sparked up like someone I didn't know and wrapped my arms around Roman's neck. Our clothes and hair were damp from the rain, but that didn't stop us from touching his dark hair, pushing his head forward so that he could kiss me deeper. I stood on my tiptoes, pressing my body against his, feeling heat ignite inside both of us. I was like a person I knew in the past. Someone who knew passion than a bluestocking teenager I was a minute ago. I was Venise D'Onofrio and Roman Van Allen was the man I loved...

My lover.

I pulled back, as if stung, and looked away from him. "What's the matter?" he asked, breathing hard and fast. "Venise..." He chucked my chin up so we could meet each other's eyes. I saw that his amber depths turned dark; a burning ember filled with nothing but desire, like he was drugged. And I knew that he saw I was in the same state too.

"We shouldn't be doing this," I whispered achingly, forcing my chin away from his grasp.

His eyes turned a deadly crimson. "Why?" he demanded angrily, flinging a head in my direction out of sheer frustration. "Why do you back away when inside of you, it feels right?" I didn't answer. I couldn't. I didn't know what to say to him. "God knows how many years we haven't seen each other." He glared at me; I could feel it. "Are you slowly backing away from me, from us, because you are too nice and stupid to believe that you're married to Alexander -- that you'll just stop and forget about me? Or are you just afraid to admit to yourself that there is still a part of you, finally showing up, that still loves me; that you're just too afraid to admit that this" -- pulled my wrist, encircled an arm around my waist, and looked deep into my eyes -- "is what you really want..."

Then it hit me. I would be a fool to let him go again. The old Venise -- the one Roman and I both knew -- inside me was screaming, pulling me toward the man I was separated for so many decades. He searched my eyes squarely.

He knew I was lying to myself.

"You can say no," he said in a low voice, his lips slowly descending onto mine. "Say no and I'll take you back to Matteo." And then his lips brushed against my own, gently kissing it. I closed my eyes, smelling his scent of rain and something uniquely him. I didn't say no. This was what I wanted. I was just too stupid to have not realized this the moment he told me everything. Every last thing. Our breaths mingled and the air grew hot and heavy. I was trembling. Not from the cold, but from his touch. It was unbelievable, but I could feel him trembling too; though I wasn't sure if that was just the force of my own trembling, or simply him as well.

There were no words that could capture the intensity of the moment, I thought. There were no words for the passion and the sheer epiphany of the moment. His lips were soft and gentle. We couldn't have let go of each other even if the fires of hell were licking our toes. It wasn't the sort of kiss one initiates because one is overcome with passion or emotion or anger. It was a slower thing, a sweeter thing.

Roman moved his lips slightly to the right, until he was nipping the corner of my mouth, softly tickling the very spot where my lips joined. His tongue dipped and traced, learning the contours of my mouth, tasting the very essence of me. If that were even possible. All I knew was that I was dazed with the same feeling he was feeling, though I wasn't as experienced in this as he was. I splayed my hands on his back, feeling the heat under his shirt. He drew me to him, pulling me closer until our bodies were pressed together. I could feel him; he could feel me, the entire length of me, and it set us on fire.