Page 163 of A Curse On Black Lake
I shake my head and rest my hands on his chest, leaning into him. His pupils blow wide, and the freezer hangs open, wafting cool air over us, making goosebumps rise on my skin in stark contrast to the heat coursing through my body.
I nip his chin and rise to my tiptoes, eagerly pressing my lips on his. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I hear the popsicle box drop on the floor. Killian squeezes my ribs and turns us so my back is against the counter.
The freezer door slams, and he lifts me onto the top. My dress bunches up as he pushes his hips between my knees, grabbing the front of my neck and pulling me to his mouth.
Killian groans as I slip my tongue against his, and I tremble with the sound.
“You look like a dream come true,” he grunts, kissing my cheek.
“How is that?” I ask, breathless.
“With my hand around your neck,” he says darkly.
I lean into his hand, and our lips brush. “I want you,” I whisper across his lips.
His eyes flare, and he leans into me, pushing between my legs. “Are you sure? That’s not why I wanted to do this date thing,” he says.
“I know, and yes, I’m sure.”
His mouth meets mine again as if we’re starving for each other.
I moan as the tip of his tongue tickles the roof of my mouth, sending shudders over my skin. My nails dig into his shirt, and he grunts, hips jerking against mine.
My skin feels like it’s burning. There’s too much clothing between us, and he seems to notice the same thing.
“Upstairs?” he asks, skimming his lips down my neck.
“Yes,” I murmur, enthralled with the way his mere touch brings pleasure.
He pulls me off the counter, and our mouths fuse as he carries me up the stairs with his belt buckle pressing into my inner thigh.
Chapter fifty-one
Eliana
Killiantakesustohis room, unceremoniously drops me onto the bed, and grabs my ankles, pulling me to the edge, pushing my dress up to my waist. I wait, wondering what he’s going to do next, and nervous energy builds in my chest. I’m not sure whatIshould do next.
He looks down at me with a serious scrutiny as if he’s trying to decide if this is the right path for us.
I’m on the verge of whining for him to decide what he wants because I amdesperatefor him. Then he grabs my dress and pulls it over my head.
“You’re sure?” he asks again.
I nod sheepishly, and he shakes his head, grabbing my chin.
“I need words,” he commands.
“Yes, I’m sure,” I tell him.
He drags his thumb over my bottom lip, and it feels right grabbing it with my teeth. He hisses in response, and I pull back. I didn’t bite down that hard.
“Did I hurt you?” I ask him.
He chuckles and pops the buttons of his shirt. “No, little witch, you’re testing my restraint, and you don’t even know it. That’s what makes this so much harder.”
“Wait,” I tell him, reaching for his shirt.
He drops his hands, and I get on my knees, reaching for his shirt. I unbutton each snap until his shirt hangs open, and he’s watching me.
