Page 121 of I Summon the Sea

And, yes, he tastes even better than he smells, like aromatic smoke, bitter tea, and sweetness.

This kiss is consuming me. I’m rubbing myself against him, I realize, breathless and aching for him.

Growling against my mouth, nipping at my lips, he cradles my face with one big hand, the thick thigh he shoves between my legs jolting me. The fire is rising, about to engulf me and burn me down to nothingness.

Burn down the entire palace, burn the world.

My breath is coming in short gasps. My hips are rolling. Oh gods, every time I press against his thigh, the pressure ratchets up.

“Fuck, Rae…” He groans into the kiss, bites down with sharp teeth, offering a slight sting of pain. “Fuck…”

Those simple, raw words do something to me. It’s a sign of that loss of control I’ve been craving to witness—but then a spark in my chest jumps and burns, making me gasp.

He pulls back, eyes flying open. “You…” he whispers. “I knew it, I’d felt it…”

Felt what?I think.Don’t stop.I grab his face and put my mouth back on his, fusing our lips together.Don’t you dare stop.

My head is full of cotton. My body is full of fire.

“You’re killing me,” he breathes, licking at my lips, shoving me harder against the wall. “You can’t be real. I’m imagining things.”

Good things, I think.Imagining good things.

“Fuck this. I don’t give a damn.” He grabs my chin, my jaw, his hand sliding around my neck, gripping it. “Ride my leg. Come for me. Come for me, beautiful.”

Something shutters inside me. Or explodes. Who can tell? It’s such a relief, such a sharp pleasure, that I cry out, my head falling back against the wall, my body jerking against his.

And my cry echoes against the walls.

It takes a long moment for the sound to sink in, for me to connect it to myself.

That sound came from me. When it shouldn’t have.

He pulls back, brows lifting, black eyes narrowing at me. “Rae?”

Shit.

At this point, I think it’s fair to say both of us are surprised, and I have no clue if this is the best or worst thing that could happen, but… it looks like my voice is back.

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

“You can speak,” he says, this tone undecipherable. It’s an unnecessary statement, but hearing it said out loud makes it real.

The spell is broken.

Panting, I draw back. I reach inside me for the drop of power, the well of my magic, but I still don’t feel it. What’s going on? Panic seizes me, robbing me of breath. Why can’t I feel it?

He’s watching me from far too close. “If you can truly speak, say something. Tell me what happened to you, what spell this was?—”

“I can’t tell you,” I whisper.

He jerks as if I’ve sucker-punched him. “Rae… your voice.”

I swallow hard. “What about it?”

“It’s… different,” he says.

Of course it’s different. Different from human voices. It’s one of the three signs of what I really am. I’ll have to continue being silent, or speak low and hope nobody notices. Few people, after all, know what finnfolk voices sound like, apart from mermaid singing.

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