Page 87 of Frost and Death
Jerrick clicks his tongue, and his dimpled smirk appears. He pushes off from his leaning position, stalking toward me slowly. A predator hunting its prey.
The thought alone should send me into a fit of nausea, but something dark within me is pleased by his movements.
I drop to the blanket as he sits next to me.
My breath catches at the closeness of him, the liquor warming me internally, while, externally, his gaze sets my skin ablaze.
He sweeps his hand over mine, rubbing in sweet, antagonizing circles.
I watch the rotation of his calloused thumb roam the same spot.
Jerrick leans close, kissing my upper arm far more gently than I thought he would. He is hunched over me awkwardly, his chin resting on my shoulder as his hand crawls up my beaded sleeve, sending goose bumps to prickle along my skin.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” he says.
“How do you know you haven’t already?” My features pinch in embarrassment, blaming the whiskey for loosening my tongue as his hand dwindles in circles.
“Allow me to rectify that,” Jerrick says as his lips land on mine.
I melt against him, sighing at the rich cologne mixing in with the taste of whiskey on his tongue. It is intoxicating, and his lips are soft.
He cups my breast, and a shuddered moan escapes my throat. Oh, Sweet Makers, that feels good.Toogood.
A low rumble vibrates against my lips as he kisses me deeper, playing with my breasts and catching me off guard with a pleasurable pinch over my nipple.
Gasping through the pained turned pleasure, Jerrick hums in approval.
“I knew you’d love that.”
My nipple pebbles as he pinches tighter, twisting it between his fingertips, sending wetness straight to my center. I hiss and close my eyes.
Fuck, I want more.
Jerrick’s hand drifts down, gripping onto my waist and squeezing in need. His eyes meet mine in question, the paleness of the blue in his irises darkening into a warmer gray-blue, and I can’t stop from admiring the contrast between his eyes and his scar.
“Do you trust me?” he asks.
I snort. “Do youreallywant me to answer that? For Yeva’s sake, you kidnapped me.”
A snarl escapes from him, and I shrink in fear.
I clutch my chest, and a sudden apology forms along my lips, but his movements are faster than I can follow as he darts up to leave.
The force of him yanking the door open sends a sweep of air into the room.
He whips his head to me, fury and his pupils removing all the blue as he laces venom behind his words. “I’d rather deal with thisfucking cursethan be stuck in here withyouany longer.”
My mouth drops, and I’m stunned, speechless, as the door rips air from the bedroom, sending a loud slam to echo in the bedchamber.
The click of his boots against the stone floor recedes down the hallway.
I gasp for air as I sit on Jerrick’s bed with one question repeating in my head.
What fucking curse?
18
So Many Faces
