Page 138 of Taste of Thorns
I take a grip of her wrist and pull her into the darkness.
“I had to see you,” I tell her, burying my face into her soft neck, inhaling her scent and pressing my lips against the pulse that dances in her artery.
She moans and melts into my arms.
“This is all a little dramatic, isn’t it?” She sighs deliciously.
“The trial is tomorrow,” I tell her. “Who knows what might happen. Who knows when I’ll be able to hold you in my arms again. Who knows when I’ll be able to have you again.”
“Professor,” she giggles, “nothing is going to happen. And you can hold me right after the trial ends. You can have me too.” She rises up onto her toes and whispers into my ear. “Over and over again.”
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Miss Storm.”
“I intend to keep that promise.”
She runs her fingers up into my hair and tips back her head, letting me run my fangs right down the length of her pretty throat.
“The things you do to me,” I mutter.
We’re hidden from eyes on the pathways, but far from my room and far from hers. Too far and I have been lingering in the shadows waiting for her, growing increasingly impatient, my need for her becoming urgent.
I growl against her throat, nipping at the skin and then I’m picking her up into my arms and moving at break-neck speed towards the sanctuary of the Great Hall.
She clings to me, gasping even more loudly, and when I place her on her feet inside the darkened space and step away, she sways left and then right.
“Jeez, Professor, that was … I didn’t know you could movethatfast,” she says, squinting towards me, her eyes unable to penetrate the darkness like mine and only a handful of candles flickering around this huge space.
“I can do a lot of things really fast, Miss Storm,” I say, throwing off my cloak and stalking towards her.
Her heartbeat ratchets up a knot, tempting me closer, and she lifts an eyebrow quizzically, clearly wondering what I can mean by that.
I take a hold of her chin in my hand, tipping her head back once again and let my tongue flutter against her throat, so quickly it makes her eyes roll.
“Ohhh,” she says, understanding my meaning. “But here?” she asks, eyes flickering around the hall.
“There’s no one here, Miss Storm. Just us.”
I snatch off her coat and then I reach down, finding the bare skin between her socks and her skirt; soft, velvet thigh. I squeeze her flesh in my palm and run my hand up the sensitive inside of her leg until I reach the gusset of her panties. I groan when I find them damp to the touch.
She grinds against my hand and tugs at my shirt.
“I’m going to make sure you remember me,” I murmur, hooking my thumbs into the waist band of her panties and sliding them down her legs as I sink onto my knees.
“Stop talking like that,” she says, frowning down at me.
“Like what?” I ask, as I help her to step out of her panties, bunching them into my fist and stuffing them into my pocket.
“Like this is the last time we’re going to see each other. This plan is going to work, Fox. It’s going to be okay.”
I hold her gaze. I wish I could feel as confident as she does. I wish I could dissuade her from this plan. All I can do is ensure I keep her safe tomorrow.
“Forgive me,” I tease, curling my arms around her leg and nipping at the side of her knee.
Her lips curl into a teasing smile. “Make it up to me, Professor.”
I slide my tongue down one of my fangs, then the other, before dragging my pointed teeth up her thigh, making her moan, her hands scrabbling into my hair.
When I reach her plump pussy lips, I take a deep inhale.
