Page 23 of Gilded Wicked Mirrors
He nipped her neck with his teeth and followed up with his tongue, touching where his teeth had marked.
“Oh . . .” Her fingers dug into the wall to keep her from reaching out and touching him.
“Is this not enough of a kiss for you?”
“No,” she whispered, “I need you to teach me true passion.”
“Like I am your little whore?”
“Yes,” she said without thinking, “I mean, no. Of course not.”
“You want to use me?”
Yes. But how could he possibly have a problem with that? His moniker was the Playboy Prince for a reason.
“Do you, Ginger?”
“Yes.”
“How very enterprising of you.” His voice was fire, both harsh and passionate. “There is a forbidden part of you that wants me to touch you everywhere.”
Yes.
He flicked a finger across her nipple, and her entire body tensed with anticipation.
“I want you to kiss me.”Please, Emrys, for the love of all the mirrors, just kiss me so I can complete my rite before midnight . . . and because now it’s the only thing I desperately want.
His lips hovered over hers, and with his free hand, he titled her chin up. “You want me.”
Now, that was an utterly too broad question, and she wouldn’t answer it because her goal was within reach, so close. Quinn wasn’t willing to wait anymore. So, without any skill, she leaned forward and touched her lips with his.
But as soon as she did it, he pulled back. “No.”
“What?”
“No.” The word was a nail in her coffin.
“Why?”
“Oneday, I will kiss you thoroughly, but it will not be today.” And like lightning, he disappeared into the shadows.
She reached her arms out, feeling for his body, but he was gone.
Truly gone.
Placing her hands back on the wall, she cursed.
“Emrys, please come back,” she whimpered, pathetically because she knew he wouldn’t, and that only meant one thing.
The sound of the clock striking midnight reverberated through her bones—like a dagger twisting into her soul.
She’d failed.
Ten-thousand-fucks.
She hung her head, her fingers clawed into the wall. One thing was certain—she felt it in her bones—she was going to incur terrible mirror consequences.
Eight
