She’s shaking too. As if she could possibly match this pull, this need, this roaring in my blood.
I don’t want to just taste her; I want to devour her. My lips trace her jaw, her neck.
Her hands are in my hair, pulling, and I’ve banished people for less, but it’s making a chill race down my spine.
She smells so good. She’s so responsive to my every touch. So responsive, and breathy, and the sound she makes when I drag my teeth across her pulse makes me want to do it again and again just so she never stops.
I’m unpracticed. I’m not used to feelinganything. I’ve never felt desire even close to this. I’m worried I’m too rough, too insistent, but she meets my every move with her own.
Her hands are on my chest now, unafraid, and no one has ever dared touch me this much. I don’tallowanyone to touch me like this.
I lick the hollow of her throat, and her moan goes right between my legs. I need her. I need her like I’ve never needed anyone or anything.
I haul her against the wall, her legs lock around my middle, and my eyes nearly roll into the back of my head.
Our clothes are still on. We haven’t done anything. But I’m close to seeing stars as I slowly drag against her.
Her eyes are wild, full of emotions I am practically choking on.Want. Unfiltered, unadulterated want. She parts her lips. Her head leans back. Her eyes flutter closed.
I fist my hand in her hair and crash her lips to mine again.
She gasps, and I use the opportunity to lick the top of her mouth. To taste her completely. To stroke against her teeth. My tongue rolls against hers, and the groan it pulls from the back of her throat is nearly my undoing. Especially when she takes my tongue between her lips andsucks.
Fuck.
My skin is on fire. I’m aching, almost trembling with want, feeling her heat right against mine, biting her bottom lip, pulling her mouth more firmly against mine, as if I could possibly taste more, as if I could imprint myself so thoroughly that she would taste me for days.
With just one kiss, she has ruined me.
Destroyed me.
Just like the world looks dull, every emotion, every touch, everythingpalesin comparison to her.
Suddenly, I understand the fools that take nightbane, even as it slowly kills them.
She is a drug. And I wouldn’t mind being addicted.
I could do this for hours. I could do this for days. My tongue brushes hers again, igniting a fire in my chest.
Then, all at once, everything goes still. The fire turns into something cold. Pain.
With a wave of regret, I release her lips. I look at her widened eyes,so very green. Then, I begrudgingly drop my gaze to my chest.
And the dagger sticking out of it.
She stabbed me.
She stabbed me.
Even that fact alone doesn’t make me want to stop kissing her.
But as the cold begins to spread, deteriorating any warmth, the sharp pain melts this onslaught of emotion. Reason rushes in.
She stabbed me.
Even though it’s the last thing I want to do, I release her. I catch a flash of silver strapped to her thigh.
Before I can do anything, before I can summon a single shadow or ounce of composure, she’s running from the room.
