Read Online All Things Wicked by Karina Cooper - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Karina Cooper
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plunged into her stomach, then bounced up into her throat as Caleb gritted out, “We’re up. Wait.” The jacket pulled taut around her, then suddenly went slack.
Energy surged through her, strong enough to allow her fingers to get a grip as he helped her over the edge. She clambered over it, grabbing fistfuls of rock and dirt and God knew what else for leverage, until her feet cleared the shelf and Juliet sprawled, pressing her cheek to the ground in relief. “Oh, thank God,” she breathed. “Thank you, thank you.”
She heard him scrabbling behind her. Quickly, she turned and wrapped both hands around his wrist, dug her heels in and strained every muscle she had left. Fatigue welled through her aching limbs. She groaned.
Caleb’s muscles tightened, bunched suddenly in her hands and he surged over the lip, an explosion of raw strength and adrenaline. She bit off a surprised yell as he slammed into her, taking them both down in a tangle of exhaustion and fear and relief.
Panting, Juliet found her arms wrapped around his chest as he braced his elbows on the ground on either side of her shoulders. His chest heaved against hers; his breath just as harsh. Without warning, he muttered something hard and edged, and unerringly in the dark, his mouth closed over hers.
Shock warred with exultation; fear with anger. As his lips pushed hers apart, as he ignored her dazed stillness and slid his hot tongue into her mouth, something deep inside her stretched. Snapped.
Her fingers tightened over wet denim.
His tangled in her soaking hair, forced her head still between his clenched fists, his mouth hot and demanding as he thrust his tongue between her lips without any pretense of gentility. She fought it, fought him.
But not to escape.
Her tongue slid over his, tangled and pushed. He groaned incoherently, kissed her breathless.
Kissed her stupid.
She forgot the cold, the rocky ground; there was only the heat of his mouth, the hard, muscled weight of his body covering hers. She arched into him, gasping, and he swallowed the sound with another low, shuddering groan. Her pulse skyrocketed. Her temples throbbed where his fingers locked into her hair, and it slammed a bolt of heat to the suddenly too sensitive ache between her legs.
He had always been cold. Right up until he burned.
She wanted that heat now.
Her legs fell open, jeans rasping against the ground, and his hips settled more firmly into the cradle of her thighs. Lust slammed through her body, her head. Need.
She whimpered.
On a rough sound, he tore his lips away, leaving her gasping for breath. For sense. His forehead rested at the curve of her neck, his shoulders heaving with every breath.
Shocked into silence, mouth wet and tingling, Juliet let him.
For this single moment in the dark, as memory and need and regret tangled together low in her body, she struggled to find an even keel and said nothing. Did nothing.
Didn’t know what else to do.
She was alive. Desperate to be touched by a man she thought she hated and God only knew where they were now, but alive. The bulge settled into the vee of her shamelessly open legs wasn’t a product of her imagination.
It was, she admitted through the melting fragments of her own thoughts, much better than the alternative.
The tension at her scalp eased. Caleb forced himself upright, fumbling in the dark, and cool air slid into the vacuum left by his body heat. She shivered.
Something clicked, and a thin beam of light seared through her vision. She flinched, throwing up a hand.
“Jesus, Juliet.”
She thought he’d meant the kiss. She opened her mouth to protest hotly when he caught her wrist, and Juliet cracked open her eyes to find him peering at the abrasions decorating her knuckles. Ruined flaps of flesh puckered in a bloody mess, gleaming wetly in the light.
His own weren’t any prettier.
She didn’t fight as he tugged her upright, forcing her to sit up, but she couldn’t summon the energy to pull her
Energy surged through her, strong enough to allow her fingers to get a grip as he helped her over the edge. She clambered over it, grabbing fistfuls of rock and dirt and God knew what else for leverage, until her feet cleared the shelf and Juliet sprawled, pressing her cheek to the ground in relief. “Oh, thank God,” she breathed. “Thank you, thank you.”
She heard him scrabbling behind her. Quickly, she turned and wrapped both hands around his wrist, dug her heels in and strained every muscle she had left. Fatigue welled through her aching limbs. She groaned.
Caleb’s muscles tightened, bunched suddenly in her hands and he surged over the lip, an explosion of raw strength and adrenaline. She bit off a surprised yell as he slammed into her, taking them both down in a tangle of exhaustion and fear and relief.
Panting, Juliet found her arms wrapped around his chest as he braced his elbows on the ground on either side of her shoulders. His chest heaved against hers; his breath just as harsh. Without warning, he muttered something hard and edged, and unerringly in the dark, his mouth closed over hers.
Shock warred with exultation; fear with anger. As his lips pushed hers apart, as he ignored her dazed stillness and slid his hot tongue into her mouth, something deep inside her stretched. Snapped.
Her fingers tightened over wet denim.
His tangled in her soaking hair, forced her head still between his clenched fists, his mouth hot and demanding as he thrust his tongue between her lips without any pretense of gentility. She fought it, fought him.
But not to escape.
Her tongue slid over his, tangled and pushed. He groaned incoherently, kissed her breathless.
Kissed her stupid.
She forgot the cold, the rocky ground; there was only the heat of his mouth, the hard, muscled weight of his body covering hers. She arched into him, gasping, and he swallowed the sound with another low, shuddering groan. Her pulse skyrocketed. Her temples throbbed where his fingers locked into her hair, and it slammed a bolt of heat to the suddenly too sensitive ache between her legs.
He had always been cold. Right up until he burned.
She wanted that heat now.
Her legs fell open, jeans rasping against the ground, and his hips settled more firmly into the cradle of her thighs. Lust slammed through her body, her head. Need.
She whimpered.
On a rough sound, he tore his lips away, leaving her gasping for breath. For sense. His forehead rested at the curve of her neck, his shoulders heaving with every breath.
Shocked into silence, mouth wet and tingling, Juliet let him.
For this single moment in the dark, as memory and need and regret tangled together low in her body, she struggled to find an even keel and said nothing. Did nothing.
Didn’t know what else to do.
She was alive. Desperate to be touched by a man she thought she hated and God only knew where they were now, but alive. The bulge settled into the vee of her shamelessly open legs wasn’t a product of her imagination.
It was, she admitted through the melting fragments of her own thoughts, much better than the alternative.
The tension at her scalp eased. Caleb forced himself upright, fumbling in the dark, and cool air slid into the vacuum left by his body heat. She shivered.
Something clicked, and a thin beam of light seared through her vision. She flinched, throwing up a hand.
“Jesus, Juliet.”
She thought he’d meant the kiss. She opened her mouth to protest hotly when he caught her wrist, and Juliet cracked open her eyes to find him peering at the abrasions decorating her knuckles. Ruined flaps of flesh puckered in a bloody mess, gleaming wetly in the light.
His own weren’t any prettier.
She didn’t fight as he tugged her upright, forcing her to sit up, but she couldn’t summon the energy to pull her
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