Page 3 of Kissing Potions and Elves
His lips move possessively over mine, hot and demanding, his hand sliding into my hair, tangling in the loose strands to hold me close.
Gods help me, his kiss is desperate and fierce, devouring me with an intensity that steals the very breath from my lungs. Overwhelmed by sensation, I cling to him as heat floods my body, melting every coherent thought into liquid fire.
My knees grow weak, threatening to give way beneath me, but his strong arm tightens around my waist, anchoring me firmly against him.
I’ve never been kissed before, and certainly never imagined it would be anything like this. All-consuming, and possessive, like he’s claiming something he’s craved forever and only now discovered.
Dizzying pleasure spirals through me as he deepens our kiss. I curl my fingers in his tunic, clinging to him as the world begins to spin. Nothing matters but the heat of his lips, the scent of him, and the press of his body against me.
When he finally pulls away, his lips hover over mine, his warm breath mingling with my own as I blink up at him, dazed, my heart pounding in my chest.
Heavens above, what was that?
His brow furrows deeply as his eyes search mine. “That,” he breathes, voice low and rough, “wasn’t normal.”
My breath stutters in my lungs.What did he just say?
CHAPTER 2
LYRION
That kiss was... not normal. And I don’t mean in the poetic sense. I meanliterally.
Her breath is still shaky, her cheeks flushed, and her brown eyes are wide as she stares up at me.
I step back a fraction. Just enough to get my bearings, to stop myself from doing it again. Because Iwantto. I want to seal my mouth over hers, press her up against the wall, and devour her entirely.
Something is definitely wrong. I never lose control.
Not like this.
Ever.
Fierce possessiveness surges through me as I gaze at her lips, swollen from our kiss. My entire body is flushed with warmth as my pulse pounds in my ears.
Vaelar help me, I’m already leaning toward her, my hand half-raised as if to touch her again before I force myself to pull back.
“That,” I rasp, swallowing hard, “wasn’t normal.”
No, that was madness—primal instinct taking over. Years of training, of self-discipline, ofcontrolall gone the moment her eyes locked with mine.
My head is still spinning, and not from the headache. That’s faded to the background, replaced by a strange humming warmth beneath my skin that pulses harder every time I look at her mouth.
Which is rather lovely, I must admit.
Stars above, why did I do that?Blinking hard, I pull back, dragging a hand over my face, willing my thoughts to organize themselves.
Something is wrong. I’m not some impulsive Goblin. I am an Elf. A scholar. A noble. And I do not kiss shop girls. Especially human ones.
Even if she is undeniably beautiful, with her long golden hair coming loose from its ribbon, her honey-brown eyes, her delicate features, the softly-rounded shells of her human ears, and her worn, flour-dusted apron tied tight around her waist.
She is much shorter than an Elven female. The top of her head doesn’t quite reach my chin.
I noticed her the first time I came into this ridiculous little café two months ago, shortly after I arrived here in Oakvale. She spilled an entire tray of tea and turned bright red while mopping it up. She apologized so many times I feared she might have been hexed. But when I gently probed with my magic, I found no dark spells or enchantments attached to her, thank the gods.
After that, I dismissed her, of course. Humans are beneath my kind. They tend to be rather emotional, a bit unrefined instead of elegantly poised, and they are often quite loud.
She stands before me, blinking up at me like I just kissed her senseless.
