Page 65 of Stolen Threadwitch Bride
His hand skimmed down my shoulder to my breast, the fine spidersilk doing little to dampen the sensation. His every touch was fire, lighting me up, roaring through me until I trembled beneath him, the want overwhelming.
“Ly,” I whispered against his lips, “please.” I didn’t know how to say what I wanted and my tongue seemed interested only in kissing, not words.
But his dark eyebrows rose and he pulled back an inch. “You want—?”
“Yes.” I slid my fingers down the powerful planes of his back, savouring the strong muscles so unlike my own soft body. “I want you.” I kissed him, body arching of its own volition. “All of you.”
A slow smile dawned on his mouth and he looked at me like he was replaying my words, committing the moment to memory—us entwined together in the star-studded darkness. After a long while, that smile turned cocky and his hand slid around to my back. “Then I’d better get you up to my room, hadn’t I?”
“No.” I clutched the front of his shirt. “Here. This. It’s perfect.”
The cockiness vanished and he sank against me, propped up on his elbows, gaze crossing my face in a way that made me want to run and hide. But I was trapped. Utterly. Willingly. And all I could do was squirm.
“Perfect,” he murmured, the word blowing across my lips and leaving them tingling in its wake.
This night. He just meantthis nightwas perfect, with the stars and the new moon. Not me. But each coupled beat—ba-dum—of my pounding heart said,A lie. A lie. A lie.
He feathered a lock of hair from my cheek and pushed it behind my ear, where he paused to trace the rounded line that was so different from his own. All I could do was take shaky breaths and cling to him like the world had dropped away and he was all that remained.
He nudged his nose to mine, all trace of the arrogant lord gone. “It is, isn’t it?”
I smiled as I kissed him, opened my mouth to him, let him claim my lips, my tongue, the sensitive roof of my mouth. And when his hands slid to the clasp at the back of my neck that would let my gown fall away like it was nothing more than dreams come dawn, I let him claim that, too.
Mine
The clasp clicked in Ly’s grip and my breaths heaved, fast but not with panic for once.
He gave a gentle tug, and a low growl came from his throat. “I swear you created this thing to torture me.”
I chuckled, the sound throaty and low, so unlike me. Yet I felt more myself than ever. “I thought you liked it.”
“Yes, but that’s the problem.” He glowered at the offending clasp as I angled to one side to give him better access. “I’ve had to see you wearing it all evening—the tease of your back and leg… and now I can’t get the damn thing off. Ah,there.” His teeth flashed in triumph.
My laughter faded as the shoulder straps slackened. Pulse thundering in every fibre, I stared up at him as his grin disappeared and became something at once gentle and heated.
Lying here, his hardness pressed into my hip. It was sizeable in a way that sent delicious tension coiling within me and gripped my throat with apprehension all at once.
Sylvie had too casually dropped into conversation that fae males took a tincture every month, which meant they couldn’t father a child, so I was in no danger of that. But still…
“I…” I swallowed, cheeks so hot, I had to be blushing. “I’m no innocent maiden, but… it’s been a long time.” Years, in fact. And then… even Callum’s kisses had been nothing likethis.
Ly kissed my throat, my scars. “Then I’ll make sure you’re ready.” He spoke against me, stubble scraping my sensitive flesh, making my breath catch. “And you can tell me at any point to stop.”
I exhaled what was almost another laugh. “You haven’t even started yet.”
“Hmm.” The sound rumbled from his lips into the jumping pulse at my throat. “Challenge accepted.”
A thrill surged through me. Ithadbeen a long time and gods damn it, I was ready for this.
Although the back of my gown scooped to just below my waist, the neckline at the front was high, brushing my collarbones, and Ly started there with a feathering kiss. He slid the straps down off my shoulders and followed with his lips, the slick swipe of his tongue, and all the while I barely knew how to breathe, how to do anything more than cling to his shirt.
I gasped as one of his canines scraped my collarbone, and he tugged the gown lower.
He kissed me a hundred times, a thousand. My shoulders. Down my chest, the tendrils of my scars. Over my heart. Then the straps reached my elbows, trapping my arms at my sides, and he exposed my breasts to the cool night air.
I couldn’t contain myself—every part of me was too tight, too hot, too empty, too full.
He flicked me a glance, eyes dark and gleaming, half-lidded. A smile played at the edge of his mouth like he’d uncovered a rare treasure. Not releasing my gaze, he trailed his fingernail along the chain of my necklace, each link clinking as he passed. When he reached the pendant, his touch pressed the cool claw into my flesh.
