How Deep The Roots Go ( Book One)

Chapter 46

He kissed her wildly, without a hint of remorse, or inclination to cease. He drank her like she was a cup of life, nourishing his torn soul. Their eyes met through the haze of foreplay, beautifully drunk in arousal and need, yet a chorus of affection so evident between them that it caused Temperance to cry out from the deepest part of her heart. An ache there that she wanted to fulfill, and Roman was the only one who could.

He broke from the kiss and gently laid her on the bed, raising his face then, allowing him to see her fully. He was on top of her now, both entangled in the want that screamed for recognition and satisfaction. He leaned on his arm, pushing up to where he could examine every contour of her face.

"You're a marvel," he whispered, dropping a tender kiss upon her chin.

She smiled, and began to trail kisses along his jaw line, licking the salt off of his skin, relishing in the taste of him. She showed no inhibition, nor did she have any clue what she was doing, but it felt natural and right, and not the wrong that he thought it would be.

He closed his eyes, allowing her to venture, lost in the moment of primal hunger. She raked her hands down his back, slowly lifting his white shirt, pulling it off, over his head. She touched his chest then, fascinated, her eyes having a feast of him. His chest was framed with muscles that were rock hard, and void of anything but tattoos, and just a small patch of hair that neared the lower waistline of his jeans.

Roman didn't think, he held no restraint, but was caving into temptation before him.

She gasped aloud when she felt him move closer to her, noticing his need.

Her hand lingered over the inked marks, especially hypnotized by the animal that was etched on the left of his chest, near his heart. The moment was fast ¾ and the realization had her quivering with uncertainty. He looked down, nearly grabbing her wrist, but he was too late. Her hand that carried her birthmark touched the symbol of the inked Gryphon with the very center of her palm. The heat drew there instantly, into a violent calescent tidal wave for them both.

Images ravished both their minds, taking them away from her room and into a realm that carried no grace, nor virtue, but was luminous with evil. Its hatred punched at them with war and death. He gripped her wrist as the vision bore down on them like a beast consuming their flesh and soul.

Temperance stood in the darkness, her hand held out, beckoning, crying out in a way that stripped any human soul of sanity. She bled pain from her lips, calling to him, beseeching his help. But he couldn't help. She was too far away from him.

But he tried... God he tried.

Regardless of his range from her, he attempted with all his heart. He ran across the flames, surrounded by demons raking their hands over him, drawing his life's blood.

He ran to her until his lungs bursted into ash...

He fell onto her, as if his human form experienced this.

"You're the Gryphon," she cried out, quivering with realization.

He rolled off of her, still feeling the pain in his lungs.

"Yes," but did not offer her more.

He was angry, terrified that he nearly broke the rules. He pulled on his shirt, standing then.

"And I will always protect you," he promised.

"Roman," she cried out.

"I told you we could not be together, Temperance," he looked over his shoulder, pain emanating from his eyes, and left.