Page 136 of Fires of the Forsaken
“Shit,” I hissed, my blood going cold. “I’m sorry! Did I—”
Cheriour released my hand, lifted himself onto his elbow, his face briefly tensing in pain, and kissed me. In a long, languid, lingering way that perfectly matched his style.
I devoured.
He savored.
And, y’know…first kisses were meant to be savored.
His calloused fingers were rougher than nail files as they curled around my chin, but I’dneverhad a guy touch me so tenderly. Carefully. Like I was a crystal sculpture that would shatter beneath too much pressure.
I shivered as he traced the corner of my mouth with his thumb.
Goddamn, how long had it been since I’d last kissed a man? Six months? A year?
Way too freaking long, apparently.
My body was in some kinda kiss-withdrawal shock.
Cheriour’s lips were soft. Butterfly light. Almost a smidge unsure—which wasadorable. And the taste of him: salty and zingy. No minty fresh breath, remnants of coffee, beer, or any of the other flavors I was used to sampling on a guy’s mouth. Cheriour’s was so uniquely his. Even his earthy (and slightly oniony) scent seemed sweeter than any cologne.
He paused, inhaling shakily.
But before I could draw back to give him (and me) a second to breathe, he angled his head, his mouth gently, sofreaking gently, massaging mine again. And those little pecks, the brief seconds of hesitation, and the feel of him so close, his hand caressing my face…Imelted.
His tongue cautiously brushed against mine. I shuddered.He stroked my neck, the shell of my ear, and my hair. Goosebumps exploded over my skin.
Kiss withdrawal had to be a real thing.Had to be.Because I was currently suffering through it. My stomach was in my throat, my muscles had that warm, ooey-gooey sensation, and my brain flashed a 404 error.
And this kiss was only a light tease! I needed to amp it up. And stat!
I leaned further down, deepening the kiss. It was uncomfortable, to be crouched over him this way. My back screamed in protest. But I didn’t care.
He tilted his head and nipped at my bottom lip.Delicately.But that prompted a full-body shudder from me. I returned the favor, nibbling on his mouth, stroking the hard lines of his neck, and tugging on his hair, until his breathing turned unsteady. And the throaty whimper he made…
God-freaking-damnit if this wasn’t one of the best kisses I’d ever had. Easily top five material—might’ve even cracked the top three if it hadn’t been for his beard (which was still crusted with blood…bleh).
I pressed myself against him, wanting,needingmore.
His hand tapped my shoulder, as though to get my attention. And, as my brain rebooted, I scrambled back with a gasping,“crap.”Because my blubber had probably been crushing the poor bastard.
Cheriour panted, although some color had blossomed across his cheeks. Not much, but he looked like less of a corpse now. And a smile stretched across his lips. Which had my heart turning somersaults because I’d never seen him smile like that before. And it wasso freaking cute.
I sat back, giving him more space, trying to ignore the way my mouth still tingled, and how cold my neck was without his hand there. “That—”
At the same time, he started, “I—”
We stared at each other. He wheezed. I trembled.
Ummm…awkward.
A raspy chuckle burst out of Cheriour’s throat. But it sounded more like a rumbling cough. Beads of sweat formed along his brow.
The zingy, happy feelings from the kiss withered and died. “We shouldn’t have done that. You still have a fever.”
“I’m aware.” He droned, laying back as I began fidgeting with his bandages again. I didn’t know what else to do.If there was a stream nearby, I could’ve gotten water and tried to flush the cut out. But I didn’t want to leave him and go trudging through the forest looking for one. I’d get lost. It wasn’t like there were signs to help direct me:Sludge Lake 1.2 miles ahead. Next exit: Bug Infested Bushes, 2.0 miles.
Besides, even if I found water and made it back here, what if the Wraiths returned while I was gone?
