Page 80 of The Guardian's Curse

“Then no more working,” he said.

“But I wanted to translate,” she complained.

“No,” he said firmly. He slid his hand further up, cupping her breast. Her back arched slightly as a faint smile curved her lips. He was learning his own magic with her as his medium. “Shall I tire you out in other ways?”

“Will you read for me after I go to sleep?”

He walked his fingers over her chest, relishing the way her body reacted to his touch. “I will read and translate if you go to sleep and do not attempt to break the curse for at least a week.”

“Two days.”

“Stubborn girl. Five. “

“Four,” she said. “Final offer.”

He sighed. “Deal.”

As if he’d flipped a switch, she grinned and grabbed a thin strip of black fabric from her nightstand. With a wicked smile, she pulled the mask over her eyes. He straddled her and peeled her shirt off quickly. “Did you get that for me?” he asked.

“Maybe,” she said. Her hands slid under his loose shirt. He froze as her warm hands covered his scarred, leathery skin. It made his skin crawl with dread, even as her touch awakened a desperate need in him. “Is it okay for me to touch?”

“It is not pleasant to the touch,” he said, peeling his hooded shirt off.

“But I like the way you feel. It’s you, so I like it,” she said. He loved the words, but he could not accept them. He gently held her wrists and pinned them to her sides. She let out a throaty laugh. “And that’s an option, too.”

He chuckled in response and lowered his head to kiss her. Her legs parted for him, making a place for him to nestle into her. Her hands strained slightly as she pressed her hips up to him. “Be patient, little witch,” he growled against her lips. “I am in no hurry.” He kissed the palms of her hands gently. “Now you must be patient. No touching.”

“Alistair,” she complained.

He released her, waiting to see what she would do. When she left her hands where he’d placed them, he grinned to himself and slid down her body. If only she would be so compliant when it came to keeping herself safe.

With a feather light touch, he traced her collarbones, trailing to the hollow of her throat. Her rich brown skin danced beneath his fingertips, tiny muscles twitching and goosebumps rising. He gently kissed her belly, slowly working down to her thigh.

His cock strained at his trousers, but he ignored it. This was not for him to plunge into her warmth, no matter how sweet and decadent it was. This was an act of gratitude and devotion. He could sense the way her body warmed, the perfume of desire as that strange alchemy turned her blood to the sweetest wine. That smell was loud and clear, and he had not imagined that he would ever see such a thing again.

“You’re just keeping me here so I don’t work,” she said.

“Obviously,” he growled. She laughed, and he made his way down the inner curve of her thigh. “It’s working, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” she said. “Obviously.”

“And just how disciplined can you be?” he asked, making his way back up her thigh, to that warm perfection between her legs. Watching her shiver with desire made him smile.

“What do you mean?” she asked.

“You’re going to let me do whatever I like,” he said matter-of-factly. “And you may not touch or hurry me.”

“That’s very bossy of you,” she said. “But I accept.”

“Good.” And with that, he kept his promise to take excellent care of Shoshanna York.

* * *

Nearly an hour later, Shoshanna was asleep with a blissful smile on her face. Alistair took it upon himself to scoop out the foul-smelling dry chunks for her pacing tomcat, then trudged to visit Lucia.

Slowly circling the statue, he said, “I’m sorry for the delay. You know that I cared for you, too. I hope that you’ll understand why I can’t let Shoshanna risk herself for you. If the cost was mine to pay, I would do it gladly. But not her.”

Guilt gripped him. Lucia had suffered for Kova, just as Shoshanna was ready to suffer for...for him. He knew that she cared for Lucia, but he was no fool. She wanted to break his curse, too. Did she want to break the curse so badly because she needed to prove herself? Or was it to make him into something that she could bear to love? The question filled him with a squirming sensation of doubt.

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