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Chapter 7 — Never Been The Same

  • ~ LYRA ~
  • How does Ronan expect me to answer his questions when he’s so close I can almost taste him? His scent calls to me, tempting me to rip off his clothes just to see the hard flesh beneath. My eyes flutter shut as my heart thunders in my chest. I lick my lips, remembering how delicious he’d tasted, how perfect it felt to be wrapped in his arms as our lips collided in those dreams. A tidal wave of arousal nearly knocks me over, my clit so sensitive I wonder if I’ll climax with a simple shift of my legs.
  • Pull yourself together and answer him, goddammit!
  • "I wanted to come to Moonmark Ink because I felt compelled," I confess, my voice trembling. "I don't know why. I just know that the moment I saw your advert online, I knew this was where I needed to come to get this done. And no, my family isn’t aware I’m here."
  • Mildly embarrassed, I try to turn my head away from his gaze, but he stops me. His fingers are firm but gentle against my jaw as he whispers, "Open your eyes. Look at me."
  • I force my lids open, startled to find his eyes no longer gold but nearly yellow.
  • "Tell me about your parents."
  • My parents?
  • The topic shift disorients me for a moment, but I manage to quickly get my thoughts in order. "My mother died when I was five. I never knew my real father, just her second husband, who is my stepfather. Why?"
  • "I'm just trying to figure this out." He takes a deep breath. "How old are you?"
  • "Twenty-three." If he gets to ask questions, so do I. "How about you?"
  • His sinfully kissable lips curl into a smile. "Old enough."
  • "What kind of answer is that?"
  • "The best you’re going to get right now," he says, his voice husky. "Who raised you?"
  • God, he’s arrogant. And worse? That arrogance just makes me hotter.
  • "That hardly seems fair," I snap, getting more irritated by the second.
  • "Answer me."
  • This time, it isn’t a question. It’s a command. His fingers tighten on my chin, his irises shifting from yellow to amber. I shiver.
  • "My stepfather and my mother's sister—who is now my stepmother because they are now married to each other. There. Happy?"
  • "Your stepfather and aunt are married?"
  • I nod, finding it difficult to inhale. I want to remain irritated, but my entire body betrays me. Ripples of desire scorch the inside of my skin. This is nothing like my dreams, where I had some measure of control. If he doesn't move away from me, I'll tell him anything he wants to know or do anything he tells me to. My pride doesn't mean squat because everything logical about my thoughts has flown out the window.
  • "I should go." Even as I say the words, something inside me rebels, hating the words, rejecting the possibility. "My family will be worried."
  • "Your stepfather and aunt, I presume. They don't have kids of their own?" His voice feels as though it sweeps through me. No one has ever made me as edgy and aroused as this man. Not even close.
  • "Yes, they don't," I whisper, clinging to his arms to remain on my feet.
  • Need pounds through me, blood thundering in my ears as I try to stay in control. In my earlier dreams, I preferred to be made love to. Now, I just want to be taken. Hard. Preferably by this man.
  • "This isn’t like me." I shake my head, trying to clear the lust-drunk fog. "Something’s wrong. I don’t feel right."
  • "Nothing's wrong. It's the moon's heat. And it's only going to get worse. You're in the early stages."
  • He has to be joking. This can get worse? What did he mean by the early stages? Wait, is this why the moon has been affecting me so much these past weeks? Or am I just feeling sick?
  • I shake my head again. "You should probably give me some space. I think I’m coming down with something." Probably something that involves his cock on a silver platter.
  • Damn it. When did it get so hot in here? Was it this difficult to breathe before?
  • Irrational fear begins to roll through me like a wave. What happens if I give in? If we end up in bed together? Could I go back to who I was? Will my life ever be the same again? I need to understand the repercussions of this thing between us.
  • "Shh, easy," he murmurs. "Don't be afraid. You're safe with me. I'm going to take care of you."
  • I shake my head at his statement. We don't know each other, not really. Yes, we've shared dreams, extremely explicit and naughty dreams, but if I want to come out of this unscathed, I have to take care of this myself. I can't depend on him for anything more than answers.
  • My mind tries to battle the dizzying champagne fizzles raging through my body in an attempt to give me some semblance of restraint. I tingle in places I didn't know existed, my nipples and pussy so hypersensitive I can't stand it.
  • "I don't know you."
  • Like an annoying parrot, I keep repeating myself. But it's the only way I currently know how to stay sane.
  • Way to go. Charm him with your dizzying intellect, Lyra.
  • I want to wince, knowing I probably look as silly as I feel.
  • "Yes, you do. I'd say that over the last few weeks, we've gotten to know each other extremely well."
  • My nails dig into his chest as my fingers curl. Isn't that the rub of it? I do know him. Technically, in my dreams, at least, we've already gone past second base with a speedy rush for third.
  • "Remember the first time we met?" I tremble when his lips feather over my forehead, the heat of his mouth warming my skin. "You were so nervous and tried to run from me. I thought you knew who and what I was to you. If I'd known why you were scared, I would have handled things differently."
  • Memories assail me; of the first time I met him in the land of dreams. It had been inside a club. I found it odd since I'd never been to a club and had only seen them in movies. He'd been leaning against a wall, as though he'd been waiting for me. I hadn't been able to see his face. Not that it mattered. I remember the way my heart had pounded, how panic had set in even though I knew it was only a dream.
  • I'd tried to run, only to have my dream shift to another time and place.
  • This time, I had found myself in a sunny park. Empty swings swayed back and forth, sandbags nearby occupied with unruly toddlers and doting parents. Ronan had been there as well, crouched a few feet away, studying me. He’d seemed so out of place, like a lethal creature in a haven. When he'd made a move to stand, I'd jolted awake.
  • From that moment forward, my dreams had never been the same. And now my reality won't be either because for some fucked-up reason, I have found him. And from the way he’s looking at me, I know he’s not going to let me go.