Page 120 of A Curse On Black Lake
I smile and push my hair back.
“Mornin’ darlin’,” he says, voice raspy from sleep.
“Morning,” I whisper.
“We probably need to get going. I don’t know what time it is,” Killian grunts and sits up.
“Seeing as the sun is barely above the horizon, it’s likely around five.”
“Okay then, MacGyver,” he mumbles.
I giggle. “You knew what time it was.”
“I did, but I was trying to ignore it smarty-pants,” he grunts.
My heart swells, and I close my eyes, focused on the feel of his hand against my back. I wish it was touching my skin.
“When we’re done with our chores, can we go to the library?”
“Yeah,” he sighs. “What are you looking for?” I lift a shoulder. “I want to know more about what happened around Cassandra and Jasper. I’m wondering if there’s any other written accounts. Maybe I can better understand why Grams never told me about it.”
“Why not let sleeping dogs lie?” he asks.
“Because I’m being nosy, and I feel like there’s something I need to know.”
I stand up, but Killian wraps his arm around my waist, tugging me back down onto the blanket. He rolls on top of me, and my legs widen to accommodate him.
“We can get to work after this,” he says and smashes his lips against mine.
He’s gentle and careful in his kiss. I wantmore. I grab his face as he holds himself above me. He groans into my mouth, and my heart does a little flip.
Killian has been unintentionally opening the part of my being I’ve boxed up tight. It’s leaked over the years with my secret hope to have someone choose me, but now that he is trying to open that box, it scares me. I might be ready to move forward, but this is all new to me, and I don’t want to disappoint him. But I don’t want to hurt myself. Then again, if I’ve learned anything in life — it’s short.
Killian pulls back roughly, and I whimper, frustrated with the loss as he ducks his nose into my neck and I lean back exposing my throat. He presses rough, hungry kisses across my skin before coming back to my cheekbones. “I love your constellations,” he says, lingering on my freckles.
The air in my lungs stalls with the word. He didn’t mean it likethat, but hearing it come from his lips makes my stomach churn. He kisses me again then freezes, realizing I’m not reciprocating.
“What?”
I shake my head and push his hair back.
“I’m overwhelmed by you,” I whisper.
The Spirits whisper so quietly I hardly hear them.
“Do we need to slow down?” he asks.
I run my finger over his beard to his lips. “I don’t know,” I whisper.
Going from sad to some level of happy, too numb, too angry is exhausting. When I’m with Killian, those feeling don’t disappear, but they don’t sting as much. They leave room for more, and I’m not sure what to do with it.
“I don’t mean to freak you out, but I have to be honest, I can’t get enough of you.”
“I don’t understand why,” I mutter.
“Because you’re an intelligent, brave, and stunning creature. Anyone is lucky to be circling your orbit, let alone be within it.”
If butterflies could have flown out of my stomach, they would have. “You’re too nice to me,” I murmur and lift my head, pecking his mouth.
