Then, he kissed me.
Cormac Illfinn kissed like a man at war with himself. He tasted like sweat, determination, and sun-kissed skin. He broke away, his chest heaving with exertion. Close enough to share a breath, he pressed his forehead to mine.
“Do you remember the day we met?” He whispered. Emerald eyes burning into mine.
I gritted my teeth. “The Frosted Sands?”
“King Irvine’s ascension to the throne.” His lip twitched. “You were younger. No less bolshy.”
“Bolshy?” I jerked back.
“A youngling, skulking the halls of the Undine Court. I called your mother ‘mad’ and you demanded I take it back.” Cormac chuckled. “I thought you were going to rip out my throat with your teeth.”
I arched a brow.As if I were capable of such a thing?
“I stabbed you in Cruinn,” Cormac stated. “I thought I killed you.”
My cheeks burned, and I wrenched myself back, stopping only because of his strong grip on my arms.
“I didn’t want to go to Shay Mac Eoin’s wedding. But the moment I pulled myself from the beach, and saw you, it was as if a strange sickness that had lurked over me for months dissolved in moments.” Cormac stated, exhaling shakily. “I told myself it was guilt, but I am going to be honest, I don’t think it was. Ever since I was a child, I’ve been told I don’t feel emotions the right way.”
I huffed a laugh. “I can relate to that. But if I stabbed someone, I’m sure I’d feel bad about it.”
He rolled his eyes.
“I didn’t realize how much I missed knowing you existed, until I saw you again. I knew what your absence felt like, and I didn’t like it.” Cormac said.
“You hate me.”
“I can hate you and miss you at the same time.”
I jerked back. “You kissed me because you hate me?”
Cormac covered his mouth with his hand, pinching his lips in exasperation. “I don’t fecking hate you!”
I exhaled a puff of air from my nose, like a raging steed. “You have a strange way of showing it!”
His hand snapped out, wrapping around my throat. Forming a gentle necklace, as he forced my eyes to his. “I’ll fecking show you how much Idon’thate you.”
His lips crashed against mine again, and my knees buckled as I held onto his shoulders for dear life.
We slid to the ground, knees landing on the fluffy sand as his lips forced mine apart, his tongue sweeping my bottom lip and demanding entrance to my mouth.
Every inch of my body began to burn with a strange kind of desperation. Nothing else mattered except Cormac Illfinn, and his hands, his lips, and the warmth of his hard chest pressed against mine. His callused fingers still wrapped around my neck, holding me in place as he took his due.
I sank into him as he pressed forward until I lay in the sand. Cormac settled between my legs, the hardness hidden in his trousers pressed against my core. Throbbing, hot, hard, even through the fabric of our clothes. I buckled my hips, legs spread, as I rocked against him, desperate for the sensation. My body begged me to pull him closer, anticipating how he would feel inside of me, stretching me to my limit.
Cormac pulled back, his eyes closed in concentration. He muttered under his breath, his entire body rigid.
My brow furrowed. “Cormac?” I whispered, as the sting of rejection wormed its way up my throat. “Are you okay?”
He nodded, the movement sharp and imperceptible. He cleared his throat. “Just a moment. Please.”
I squirmed, uncomfortably, still pinned by his hips.
Cormac inhaled sharply. “Don’t move.” He begged.
“What’s going on?”
