Page 61 of Heartsong
Set, stance, strike—
Except he closed his hands around her fist when it met his flesh and tugged her forward, out of her stance and off balance. She stumbled forward with anoof,and he didn’t let go of her hand.
So close, he could see the way her skin glistened with a sheen of sweat. Color pinkened her cheeks, and her eyes were bright as they blinked up at him. Her chest rose and fell quicker than usual, and he could just see her pulse drumming at her throat.
Her smell intoxicated him, heady and sweet and…something new. Deeper, richer, like the chocolate or coffee his Anna loved so much.
Frey dipped his head, getting into her space, and brushed his nose against hers.
Excitement. Arousal. That’s what he scented from his Anna.
Thank the goddesses.And it was all the sweeter for its stubbornness. His patience was finally paying off, and he wanted to roar with triumph.
A slow smile spread across Frey’s mouth, pleased and predatory. “I’ve gotten you in close. Now what do you do?”
Her lips parted, drawing his gaze immediately to their plush, rosy perfection. Human mouths and kissing had never truly fascinated him before, but now, Anna’s mouth and her kiss were all he wanted. It took everything inside him, every morsel of patience and good sense, to keep from pouncing on her.
The tip of her tongue swiped across her lower lip, and Frey bit back a groan. He couldn’t stop the twitch of excitement in his cock, though.
“Knee you in the crotch,” she joked, though her voice had gone low and sultry. “Or go get a glass of water.”
A purr rattled in his chest, and Frey stood perfectly still as Anna’s gaze moved slowly over his face. If she moved closer, even just swayed forward, he’d swoop down and finally take what was his.
Do it,he begged her.Reach for me. Give in.
He didn’t imagine her pupils blowing wide, nor how her fingertips made playful patterns against his palm. He waited, suspended in his anticipation, ready for the smallest sign…
After a moment, her hand slipped from his, and Frey let her go.
The blush returned, and Anna cleared her throat as she hustled from the living room to the kitchen.
Frey looked on in frustration. This time, though, it wasn’t the kind with sharp edges and resentment boiling beneath. No, this was more like anticipation. Dangerous as it could be, hope sustained his battered patience.
He followed her into the kitchen.
Two glasses sat on the counter, Anna pouring water into each. She handed him one without quite meeting his gaze, and sipped from her own silently. Frey downed the water in a single gulp and replaced the glass to watch her.
His attention snagged yet again on her lips, how they bunched and moved, not letting a drop escape.
“Is my mouth particularly interesting tonight?”
“I’m always fascinated by your mouth,fynghân.”
“I guess human mouths are pretty different,” she said, sidestepping his flirtation. But she didn’t leave, instead set down her half-full glass, and so Frey dared a half-step closer.
“They are. Hardly intimidating. The druids that made my kind didn’t even give us their own, but much more useful fangs.” He flashed his, large and ready to take a bite out of her enemies—but for her, he’d be so, so gentle.
“My, what big teeth you have,” she murmured.
He took that last half-step, hope and lust making his blood rush hot. With gentle fingers, he traced the column of her throat then used a knuckle to lift her chin. The pad of his thumb ran slowly over her velvety bottom lip, savoring its softness.
“It’syourmouth I think about,fynghân.I don’t think you understand what you do to me.”
Her blush deepened, but she didn’t step away from him. No, she…leaned into his touch. Brushed her fingers against his forearm.
Frey’s heart stuttered.
“Are you trying to talk your way into kissing?” she asked.
