Page 22 of Gilded Wicked Mirrors
His thumb stroked along her jawline, and she tensed, her breath hitching with excitement and terror. What she was about to ask would have negative consequences because no matter what he said in return, she would be mortified.
“I wanted to . . .” She simply couldn’t say it aloud. It was wrong of her to consider ambushing him, but that was what she wanted to do. It was also impossible. She couldn’t reach his lips without his help.
“Wanted to . . .” he repeated. Not helping in the slightest.
Oh, bloody mirrors, was he truly going to make her say it?
“I would like you to teach me . . .” Quinn swallowed. Possibly, if she presented it as a teaching opportunity, he might be willing to help her. What was she kidding? Emrys kissed a new girl every night. It was his way. He’d be more than willing to help.
“Teach you?”
Could he stop merely repeating her? Quinn’s heart slammed in her ears like it was a bird trying to escape a cage.
“Passion.” The word was so low only a long-extinct vampire would have been able to hear it.
“What?”
Quinn placed her palms against the wall, bracing herself. There wasn’t much else she could do.
“Would this happen to be about your lack of passion problem?” Emrys said loudly, the sound brushing her earlobe as if his lips were nearly touching her.
“What?”How could you possibly know that?
Thankfully, he answered her unspoken question. “After our conversation this morning, I asked Jane why you’ve never made the Royalle Ballet before, and she said it’s because you lack passion.”
A wineglass shattered in her stomach, jabbing into her core. “Oh.”
“Is that what you want me for?” His hot breath stroked herneck, and his fingers slid into her hair, now cupping her head instead of her jaw.
The movement sent a sensation of pleasure down her spine. There was something about the way he touched her neck and hair that caused her to completely unravel.
If this was her body’s reaction to a simple touch, she desperately wanted to know how it would respond to a kiss. It could be a fun science experiment. Quinn might not want to be a medical examiner like her uncle, but she loved the scientific practice. It made sense.
It was logical and precise.
Two things she desired above all else.
“Because I am known as a perennial rogue, you want to learn from me,” he asked, sliding one finger down the column of her neck, and resting above the crest of her breast.
“Yes,” she said, wanton and desperate for more of that liquid fire touch.
Every movement of his hand caused her nerve endings to erupt in sensation. And it was beautiful. Magical.
“You want me to touch you here?” His finger slid further south, and her breath hitched as it slid down her bodice. “Ginger, you must verbally answer me.”
“Yes.” She gulped. “I want that.”
“You feel like velvet.” His lips touch the spot just under her ear. Quinn gasped. “You want me to kiss you here?”
Words weren’t forming to answer him because she was so overwhelmed with stimulation. She’d touched herself before, but it was nothing like this. It was all more exciting because she couldn’t see anything, and she had no idea what was coming next. Tension licked at her spine as she waited for him to make his next move.
It was to place another kiss up her neck. His lips were hot against her skin, and his hand traveled farther down her bodice until he completely cupped one of her breasts. “You like this.”
Too much.“Yes.” She pinched her eyes shut, hating herself foradmitting it—hating herself for all of it. He was her enemy and off limits, not even a thought on her mind until today. Quinn did not lust after young gentlemen and certainly not princes.
Lust. Yes, that was precisely what was happening.Fuck.
But if this was happening, then it needed to happen fully. “I need you to kiss me.”
