Page 85 of Lore of the Tides

Lore pulled the grimoire from beneath a pillow.

No more hiding it under her shirt where it was quite uncomfortable and impractical. She slipped the book into the satchel and cinched it tight. The satchel hung comfortably from the belt; she could hardly feel that it was there.

Lore crossed the room and threw her arms around him. “It’s perfect.”

Finndryl laughed, his torso vibrating against Lore’s chest.

Finndryl closed his arms around her, holding her to him. He licked his lips. Lore followed the sweep of his tongue, unable to tear her gaze away from the view. She watched as his dark eyes narrowed, his pupils widened, and then—and then, yes, he was kissing her, hungry, demanding, as he explored her mouth as if determined to uncover everything about her, her wishes, her wants, her secrets.

They were all lips, and tongue, and sharp teeth clashing, discovering, learning. As Lore matched his energy, her need for him just as great, he slid his hands down her back, past her ass, gripped her thighs, and hauled her up. Lore wrapped her legs around his slender waist, her thrumming pulse persistent in that soft place between her thighs. She pulled away just for a moment to gasp in breath, though even that second was too long before she pressed her lips to his skin again, tasting, devouring, peppering his stubbled jaw with kisses, marveling at the sharp planes of his face.

Heat spread past the tightening buds of her nipples down to the slickness between her thighs. She ached to feel him there, needing the pleasure that only he could give her. Their passion intensified as she deepened the kiss. She wriggled her hand between them, desperate to feel that hardening length of him. She went back to his lips, deepening, moaning into his mouth. She gripped him through his pants, hating that his shirt was tucked in, that these formal clothes were so damned restricting because, gods, the feel of his lips on hers was utter bliss.

The room heated up around them, and Finndryl tightened his arms around her, closing his fingers on the mound of braids twisted at the nape of her neck, fisting it, pulling it tight, while keeping her firmly pressed against him. The slight pain of him gripping herhair made her moan into his mouth; she wanted him to pull her hair when there weren’t any clothes between them.

Thiswas how she had wanted to spend the morning with him.

Not with half a dozen attendants swimming into the room issuing orders at them while they were snuggled up in bed, finally a bed,alone. Lore cursed herself for having fallen asleep last night.

Heat from his hands gripping her ass, heat from his lips on her throat, the way his sharp canines skimmed the delicate skin on her collarbone... Lore was on fire, she was burning for him.

“Wait, wait...” Finndryl said between breaths as he stilled against her throat.

Lore felt dazed. “‘Wait’...? Oh, yes, okay.” Her chest was heaving, her breaths shallow and quick. And that was when she realized the heat around her wasn’t just because she was mad with desire from being so near this damned male (and yet not near enough)—the temperature in the room was quite uncomfortably hot. And it was daytime, so her book lay dormant in the satchel, noSourceto protect her.

Fear spiked her heartbeat now.

“What’s happening? Finndryl? Is it the volcano?”

He laughed before pressing a kiss to her throat, his fingers gently tucking an escaped curl behind her ear. “No, we are safe. I just...” He chuckled again. “I haven’t quite figured out this whole ‘having magic’ thing. It’s different having it than reading about it.”

Lore blinked, clearing her head. It only took a second before a laugh burst out of her. “I knew it was hot in here, but I thought that was because of the kiss.”

“I think it technicallywasbecause of the kiss, but also because of me.”

“Heat, huh?”

“I think so. Among other things. I’ll tell you about it on the road when we are away from here.”

“More?More than almost boiling a room in seconds?” She raised an eyebrow.

“Yes.” He gave her a look.Later.He would tell her later.

Lore frowned. “Until you have more control, should we...” She didn’t even want to ask, but it felt necessary to force her mouth to say the words. “Keep kissing to a minimum?”

Finndryl mocked offense. “Absolutely not. Plus, what better way to awaken my power, learn control, than by these perfect lips?”

He brushed a thumb across her bottom lip before capturing her mouth with his once more. His lips and tongue explored, and his skilled fingers reclasped the top button of her dress before pulling away, his eyes glimmering. He straightened her satchel, which had become askew on her hip.

“This looks so good on you. I knew it would, but... my imagination couldn’t do the real thing justice.”

“Were you imagining me in nothing but this satchel?”

His chest rumbled. “Of course I was. I have plans to undo the clasps with my teeth.”

Her cheeks burned. “Oh, we must make this a reality.” She patted the satchel, checking that the clasps were secure. “It’s the best gift anyone has ever given me. Thank you, truly.”

Finndryl grinned, and the sight stole Lore’s breath for a moment. She vowed to do whatever it took to see that smile every day she had with him. She’d lived too much of her life without it. Smiling didn’t come easily to him, and that made his smile a gift, one so much more special than from someone whose grin came quickly.

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