Page 137 of A Tongue so Sweet and Deadly

His eyes clashed with hers again, and the gray filled with the same guilt she was trying hard to keep out of her own.

Lessia reached out and gripped one of his hands. “It’s not your fault. You couldn’t have known.”

He laced their fingers together, glancing at them for a moment before lifting his silver eyes again. “But it is. Everyone who comes close to me risks their lives. And now I’ve risked yours too. I’ve been so stupid, but I can’t seem to stay away from you.”

He let out a sharp breath as he moved their hands to her lap, slamming his other one on the table beside her. “I don’t want to stay away from you!”

Trailing his eyes over her face, Loche continued in a lower voice. “They must have learned that. Must know how I feel. That’s why they came after us tonight. I’m so sorry.”

Her skin burned when he leaned in closer, jaw ticking. “I have every man in my employ looking for them. And we’re close—we finally have a lead. We’ll catch them any day now, and I promise you that they won’t come near you again.”

Nodding, she fought against leaning into him.

“Lessia,” he rasped as he tilted his head down.

Her breath hitched when he stilled with his lips an inch from hers.

“I don’t want to stay away from you,” he whispered again.

A tremble seized her body when his hot breath hit her mouth as he continued. “Tell me. Tell me you burn for me like I burn for you. Tell me your heart stops when I walk into a room like mine does for you. Tell me you can’t stop thinking about me like I can’t go a waking second without thinking about you. Tell me you don’t want me to stay away.”

Loche’s gaze consumed her, hope and desire and vulnerability flaming in the gray.

She opened her mouth, but no words came out.

Eyes flitting between his, she willed herself to be strong.

What she’d done to him tonight was unforgivable.

He wouldn’t be here if he knew.

She wouldn’t be here if he knew.

She’d be in the musty cellars beneath the castle, chained to the wall in wait for a death sentence.

“Lessia.”

She saw the resolve in his eyes just before his mouth crashed against hers.

A low moan escaped her when his hands wrapped in her hair, dragging her to him, and heat erupted in her core when he responded with a growl.

Loche’s lips were anything but gentle as they hungrily, possessively, explored hers, his teeth scraping against her bottom lip until she let his tongue dance with hers.

As he went to shift her down onto the table, she forced herself to snap out of the fog that filled her mind.

Mustering the last strength within her, she placed a hand on his chest.

“Loche,” she whispered.

He pulled back, and their eyes collided, a flame shooting down her spine at the heat surging in his gaze.

“Loche, I need to tell…” She let out a huff at the agony searing through her arm, gripping Loche’s biceps to restrain herself from reaching down to rub it.

“I…” she tried again. “I’m not good.”

Electricity crackled over her skin as one of the corners of his mouth lifted.

Leaning in again, he spoke against her mouth. “Neither am I, darling.”

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