Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 123190 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 616(@200wpm)___ 493(@250wpm)___ 411(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 123190 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 616(@200wpm)___ 493(@250wpm)___ 411(@300wpm)
“You don’t mean that.”
“It’s painful how close to the truth it is,” he says, his breath feathering over my mouth. He shifts, trailing his lips down the side of my neck before bringing them to my ear. “I’ve never craved anything in my life as much as I crave your mouth.”
“It’s the ring,” I say, but I want to believe it’s not. “The magic draws you to me.”
“Then why did I want you like this before tonight?” He sucks my earlobe between his teeth, and pleasure shimmies down my spine. “The ring doesn’t make me blindly devoted to you. It doesn’t make me lose my thoughts and beg to do your bidding. And I don’t believe for a second it has anything to do with why I’m drawn to you.” His fingers trace up my back, grazing over each vertebra like he’s scanning for a secret message. “Maybe the rest of the magic wouldn’t work either. Maybe I could kiss you and survive.”
I squeeze my eyes shut hard—at the things his touch is doing to me, and at how much I want what he’s describing to be true. “Maybe it’s the forbidden that really appeals to you.”
“There have been countless pleasures forbidden to me in my life, but I never cared until you.” He inhales deeply, as if he’s trying to fill himself with me. “I felt such relief tonight. Such relief when I realized my queen hadn’t been found after all.”
“Kendrick . . .” But I don’t know what to say. That he should want Crissa to be found? That he should stop wanting me? I can’t. Not when I feel like my next breath hinges on his touch. Not when the idea of letting him go hurts so much.
“I’m not proud, but it’s true. I’ve been looking for her for three years, and tonight when I thought she’d been found, I felt nothing but dread. I need you, Jasalyn. And I don’t believe for a second the Mother would let me feel this way if I’m supposed to be with another.”
I slide my free hand behind his neck and lean my head against his chest, my breathing uneven.
As his fingers reach my waist, they slow their tour of my spine. He traces a line around to follow the curve of my hip. Burying his nose in my hair, he breathes in deeply. “Your scent haunts me. But not at much as your kiss does.” He inches up the thin fabric and slips his hand beneath it, gently tracing up my side with rough fingertips.
I shudder softly and let my fingers tangle in his hair. I bury my face in his neck and breathe him in, too afraid that if I meet his eyes and see the longing there, we might both lose the tentative grip we have on our self-control.
He sweeps my hair to the side and trails hot, open-mouthed kisses down my neck. I tilt my head to give him better access, and he follows the path to my shoulder, slipping the strap of my sleeping gown down my arms to expose more skin to his mouth.
Lips and teeth and lust.
I can’t think. Can’t remember what I’m supposed to be doing and why I’m supposed to pull away. I don’t care that he’s been promised to another. I don’t care about anything but promising myself to him.
Kendrick pulls back and follows the hot path left by his mouth with his hand. His gaze darkens, locked on his fingers on my skin. When his rough fingers brush the swell of my breast, I gasp—from the heat that floods my belly and the matching heat I see in his eyes.
His gaze holds mine as he continues his journey down the front of my body. He searches my face as he slides his hand between my legs.
All the heat in my belly seems to follow him there. I gasp—because he’s barely moving his hand, but it’s so good, and I never thought to imagine anything like this.
His eyes go dark, but they stay locked on mine as he touches me, rough hands moving with more tenderness than I would’ve thought possible.
When my back arches and my body winds too tight, his breath hitches, and he shifts his body closer. “So beautiful,” he murmurs, and for a moment the whole world seems to fall away. There is no queen. There is no ring. There are no scars. There is no carelessly sacrificed future. There is nothing but Kendrick and me and this moment.
I catch my breath, clinging to his arm, pulling as close as I can. “Is that what you imagined?”
“A very small preview.” He sweeps his lips along my neck again. “Sleep, Princess. The sun will rise again tomorrow.”
I close my eyes and think of Fienna’s sailor. I think of how good this moment is—despite everything—and how I don’t want it to end. And I think of how badly I wish I’d never gotten this ring, never traded my future for something I didn’t understand.