Page 48 of Spark of Sorcery
Fox?
Is he a pervert after all? Unable to help but watch this play out?
But the eyes don’t glow like the professor’s do. They are dark and penetrating. Soulless and yet so intense.
Thorne.
It’s Thorne watching me. And it’s not the usual indifference bordering on hate. Tonight his eyes are full of pain, with lust and with longing.
A longing I feel right in my core.
He holds my gaze as I come apart a second time, powerless against Dray’s lavish attention.
Thorne watches as my body shudders with ecstasy and my skin flushes hot, his eyes swimming all over my face as if he’s soaking up every detail, committing it to memory.
And I know.
In that moment, I know.
It was Thorne that helped me in the maze.
Chapter Seventeen
Briony
Dray staggers to his feet, that usual grin spread across his face along with a lot of my mess. His entire body shakes like a dog’s, and then he licks at his lips and wipes at his chin with his sleeve.
He shakes again.
“Woah, Kitten! That was …” His eyes roll around in their sockets. “I feel like I just snorted ten tons of elixir dust.”
I close my eyes and catch my breath. My head is still spinning from what he did to my body and what I think I just discovered.
“A pussy never tasted so good.”
I open my eyes and look at him.
“You’ve eaten a lot of pussies?” I ask.
His smile turns wicked, and he grabs my hand and tugsme towards him again. Up close, I can smell myself on his skin and it isn’t … unpleasant. It has my core spinning again. He may be a powerful shadow weaver – deadly, dangerous – but I reduced him to his knees and made a mess of his face.
“Are you jealous, Kitten?”
I shake my head. Then tilt it. “When was the last pussy you ate?”
“Other than the delicious one I just ate?” he says. I nod. “Hmmm, probably … about … a month ago. Night before I left for the academy.”
That piece of news has me frowning. Funny, but I don’t like to think of that mouth on anyone else. Am I becoming possessive? I frown even harder.
“Hey,” he says, “be fair! I haven’t eaten any other pussies since we picked you out as our thrall.” Now he frowns. His voice becomes possessive – dangerous like it sometimes does. “When was the last time someone licked you out, Kitten?”
“They haven’t,” I say. “I’ve never done that before.”
“You mean Beaufort didn’t …”
I shake my head.
“Motherfucker, what the fuck was he thinking?”
