Page 76 of Promise of Darkness
I feel his frustration in the tension of his body, the trembling of those hands. It’s taking everything within him to restrain himself.
And I don’t want him to hold back.
When my lips meet his, I can tell instantly that this is different. He feels it too. The moment stretches out too long, and it’s as if he senses my hesitation. His tongue brushes against my mouth, begging for more, and I can’t help myself.
I give it.
Inch by inch, he steals away my willpower.Open, his mouth urges, and then his tongue is slick against mine and there’s a gasp trapped in my throat. I melt into that hard body, trembling hands coming to rest against the hard slab of his chest.
More, his lips demand. Desperation and hunger ignite within me, and it’s like my body has a will of its own. My fingers curl in his shirt, and Thiago captures my mouth, eating at me as if wants to devour me.
Yield, his body insists, and he pushes back, hard, until my ass hits the table, and one hand clenches in my hair. I’m drowning in the taste of him. It feels as though a dam has burst, and it’s both too much and not enough.
I break my mouth from his, breathing hard.
Slowly, the world comes back into focus. It’s still not enough. I want more. It’s been a long time since I’ve had another’s hands on my skin, and never like this. Never burning through me like wildfire, threatening to destroy every last hint of control I own.
Gentle hands stroke down my sides, and every inch of my being wants to grab a fistful of his hair and tug his face back down to mine. He can see it too, heat darkening those green eyes until they’re practically smoldering.
“Vi,” he says, reaching for me.
I shove away from him, my hands going to my branded lips. This was a terrible idea.
Because I want more.
I want to forget he’s my enemy, I want to forget this is a game, forget everything but the sensation of those lips on my skin. Of all the challenges I’ve ever faced, this is the worst.
Because I don’t think one taste will ever be enough.
“Goodnight,” I call, forcing myself to haul out the daughter of Queen Adaia and cloak myself in my role as an Asturian princess.
She’s cold and regal and invulnerable to kisses.
Herheart doesn’t race.
“Until tomorrow,” Thiago says softly, and as I close the door behind me, I know those words will haunt every hour of the night ahead.
19
It’s after midnight when I realize I’m not going to be getting any sleep tonight.
With a sigh, I toss my blankets back, grab a silk robe, and escape into the tower. A cup of warm milk might do the trick, though I have no idea where the kitchens are, or even if I’ll be allowed to visit them.
After all, I’m the enemy, aren’t I?
It’s one thing to be dismissed by my mother, quite another to realize Thiago’s keeping secrets from me too. I don’t know when I started to trust him, but to realize he doesn’t return the sentiment feels like a knife wound to the chest.
The hallways are empty, though I feel the stir of one of the demi-fey shooting past, and golden eyes blink at me from the ceiling before vanishing in the sprawl of carved leaves that embellish the cornice.
“Do you know where the kitchens are?” I whisper.
Movement shifts out of the corner of my eye. One of the demi-fey weaving around a marble column like a cat wending its way through a pair of legs.
I haven’t been here long enough to cultivate them, but they’re curious little beasties.
“I want some warmed milk. And if someone were to assist me, I might be able to leave some milk out for them too.”
Three shadows bob closer. The little sprites are creatures born of the elements; they have the curiosity and intelligence of a cat, though they don’t seem to understand concepts like honor, or truth, or treachery.
