Now

To anyone looking, they looked like a couple terribly in love all throughout Paris. Lovers in Paris—what a shocker!

Mathilde knew that her expression definitely contributed to that. The way she clung to Cadmus, and the way that he held her to him. Once out of the corner of her eye, she saw a man taking a picture of them by the Seine. At that moment, could he capture the lust in her eyes? The gape of her mouth, as she felt Cadmus hard against her and needing him right then? Cadmus’ dark lust was not on view for the camera, but was for her eyes only.

It was all love for the camera, and behind the scenes too. When they were alone, they smoldered the same way.

The frame of their hotel room felt like fire when they returned to it. Their proximity as they were both so eager to get inside and at each other. His lips would rest on her temple or neck, and she would combust.

His touch was so incendiary.

She needed him, even as she did not know if she trusted him. If she trusted him not to break her heart.

Again.

Before she left, Mathilde was sure that she saw Cleo’s shadow at their door and heard a scratch at the door before the sound of heels walking away dragging a suitcase down the hall.

For now, she was the one he was set on fire, she was the one that he wanted now. He touched her and she felt him like flames. He wanted her like he had never wanted her before, but it was only now. Now was not an infinite period of time. 

It was just now.

He kissed the tip of her spine, and his hand moved up the sides of her ribs until she burned.

She wanted to burn…

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