Page 126 of A Song of Air
“Bryson,” he groaned against her mouth, though his fingers flexed against her hips, pulling her closer. Like he was too weak to push her away, even if his eyes said he wanted to. “We can’t.”
She arched her neck just a bit more and kissed him. A quick press of her lips against his own. Just a taste. A small little taste of what they could have, of what they could be.
She hadn’t tasted his lips before. Not like this. Not physically. Everything they’d ever done had been with the use of his magic. Mental, spiritual. It had all been a phantom, a product of desire and imagination. And it came up short to what he truly felt like. Solid. Warm.
She wanted him desperately.
“Weylyn.” She pressed a kiss to his mouth once again. “Just a taste,” she whispered. “Please, just a taste.”
His eyes closed almost as if he were at war with himself. As if he were fighting her words, the desire she knew they both were feeling.
“Just a taste,” she pleaded again.
His eyes opened and the gold burned a hole through her soul. His canines flashed and he echoed her words. “Just a taste.”
And then his lips devoured her own.
Glittering Gold
Bryson groaned againstthe assault of Weylyn’s tongue. He pillaged. He conquered. He kissed her like she was the very air he breathed and could only find survival on her lips. She kissed him back with just as much fervor, groaning and grinding against him.
The pulse of her rapid heartbeat matched the drums and songs of the night. Her moans were drowned out by the erratic calls of the wildlands and creatures of Unseelie. She knew eyes were on her, but eventually even that faded as her hands scraped against Weylyn’s body, searching for purchase. Searching for more.
His hands gripped her on the backs of her bare thighs, shoving the hem of the thin material of the dress up the curve of her ass. Cold air hit her, pebbling her skin in gooseflesh. She didn’t care about being exposed. She didn’t care about anything except the dizzying sensation he provoked, the way he set her nerves on fire.
His arms clamped around her and he lifted her with ease into his arms. She moaned, legs wrapping around his waist in a vice. She didn’t want to be pried away from him. Couldn’t. It didn’t matter that there was danger around; it was like it didn’t exist in the first place. Her entire world tunneled into this single moment of being with him.
He gripped her ass tightly, grinding her down against his length. And then they were moving. Her world was spinning, and she had to tear her mouth from his to gasp for breath. The stars became even more of a blur above them. And when she blinked at Weylyn, it was to find golden powder from her skin transferred to his.
Her lips tingled where he’d kissed her. And still she craved more. But he was moving away from the fray of dancing bodies. Past the sounds of the party. Away from food and drink that would trap them in the court forever. Far enough away that they could still hear the music, but it dulled to a low, throbbing tempo. Far enough away they had privacy to be alone.
And once they were, he lowered her to the ground, her back touching cold earth. The trees surrounded them, and the sky loomed high above. The earth thrummed with the beat of dancing feet, making her heart pound faster and faster.
Weylyn kept her caged between his arms, hovering above her. His dark braid slipped over his shoulder to tickle her cheek.
Her hand lifted, dusting away the golden powder from the ridge of his sharp cheekbone. He caught her wrist, eyes and nostrils flaring. He brought her fingers near his mouth and licked a line of powder from the tips of her fingers.
