Page 83 of The Rebel and the Rose
And froze.
‘It’s all right,’ he said, gently tipping her chin. Her lips were so close, soft and plump and begging to be kissed.
She hesitated. ‘I don’t want to hurt you.’
‘You won’t.’
‘What makes you so sure?’
‘Because you don’t want to.’
She shook her head. ‘It’s not about what I want.’
‘That’s the thing,’ he said, brushing his nose against hers. ‘I think it is. Deep down. I think that’s the secret.’
The air grew close, the heat of her body rolling against his. She swallowed thickly, wrestling with her desire. Even as it turned her eyes gold, made her cheeks pink. ‘This… feels dangerous.’
He smiled against her cheek, pressing a kiss there. ‘You forget, spitfire. I like to burn.’
He felt her lips curve, the soft breath of her words on his mouth. ‘Let’s see if that holds true.’
She pressed a trembling palm against his chest, pushing him down to the rug. Her hair fell around them like a curtain, the silver moon haloing her face as she traced his collarbone, lightly fingering the shadow-mark there.
Saints above.
He stifled a groan.
This was one way to burn. Slow and aching and begging for more.
She lowered her head, until her lips hovered an inch from his own.
Ransom’s breath punched out of him, all traces of his composure gone in a blink. ‘Would you like to experiment on me, spitfire?’
She toyed with the first button of his shirt, deftly easing it open. ‘Would you be amenable?’
The word was ragged. ‘Always.’
She nipped at her smile. He raised his thumb to trace it.
Saints help him, she licked the pad of his finger. Then moved south, her hair trailing along his chest as she opened another button. She pressed a kiss to his collarbone, lightly sucking the skin there.
He gasped as the shadow-mark tingled under her power. Dissolving with each brush of her lips, the darkness in him was no match for the power of her Lightfire. She was replacing his mark with a love bite, the realization alone making him harden. Another groan seeped through his teeth.
She stopped, looking up at him from beneath heavy lids.Her eyes were golden, her magic glowing faintly under her skin. So beautiful – and otherworldly – that for a moment, it was like staring into the sun. ‘Pain?’ she whispered.
‘Pleasure,’ he hissed. ‘Don’t stop.’
Smiling coyly, she lowered her head and licked the hollow of his collarbone, following another whorl. His skin prickled, the mark dissolving under her wet mouth. His back bowed, and he grabbed hold of her, sliding his hands into her hair.
‘Let me kiss you,’ he said, breathless.
Or I’ll die.
‘But your marks.’
‘Forget the marks.’
She clucked her tongue. ‘So impatient.’
