Total pages in book: 146
Estimated words: 137226 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 686(@200wpm)___ 549(@250wpm)___ 457(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 137226 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 686(@200wpm)___ 549(@250wpm)___ 457(@300wpm)
And then I remember the very hard, thick, and daunting feel of his cock when he pressed my palm against it, the fire that burned in his eyes when he asked if this felt like he didn’t want me, and I immediately feel my pulse quicken, the heat flashing between my legs.
Fuck.
I splash cold water over my face again and lean over the washbasin for a moment, trying to compose myself. My physical wants and desires are going to have to go ignored for now. I have to stay focused on the task at hand. We’re going to the Dark City today. We’re going home. And I have no idea what’s going to happen. I’ll need to prepare for each and every scenario.
There’s a knock at the latrine’s door. “Brynla?”
It’s Andor.
I give myself one last look in the rusted, cloudy mirror hanging above the washbasin, glad that I can’t see my face all that well, and then take in a deep breath, opening the door.
His brows are furrowed, wrinkling his forehead and giving him a puppy-dog look. What a rotten time to start being so sexually attracted to him. “Are you all right?”
I nod. “Just getting nervous.”
His mouth twists in sympathy and I notice that the dragon-tooth necklace is on the outside of his shirt, which means he’s been fidgeting with it.
“We’re just about to drop anchor,” he says. “Toombs thought you might know of a good spot.”
I nod and step out of the cabin. “It’s all sand on this coast, he shouldn’t have a—”
Before I can finish my sentence, Andor lets out a little grunt and reaches out with both hands and cups my face in his palms before pulling me toward him. He swiftly leans down and envelops my lips with his. At first I press my hands against his chest in shock, prepared to push him away, but then I feel the hard muscles of his chest and the heat that’s flaring inside me, the sudden rush of desire taking flight, and I decide I don’t want to pretend anymore. There’s no pretending for me after last night, anyway.
His kiss is possessive. It’s controlling and deep, a slow, hard melding of our lips, mouths parting in hunger, giving way to our tongues, stoking more and more heat, and I feel like I’m melting in his hands, as though if he didn’t have such a strong grip I’d be a puddle on the floor. I feel him all the way to my toes, making them curl inside my boots, the rest of my body burning beautifully alive.
I want to do this forever.
I want this and so much more.
I dig my nails into his shirt and he presses me up against the wall until I feel every hard inch of him and suddenly the desire feels like it’s choking me, panicked and wild, and all I can think about is the feel of his tongue inside my mouth, as if he’s thoroughly fucking me, and that panting need that—
“All right,” he breathes as he breaks away, resting his damp forehead against mine, his eyes lazily focused on my lips. “Maybe that’s the best kiss I’ve ever had. It counts for more when you’re sober.”
I can’t even speak. It’s like he stole the air from my lungs and my words from my mind. I’m rendered brainless, boneless, unable to do anything but stare at his gorgeous face, feel the ghost of his lips on mine, and wish that he would do it again.
I want it more than anything.
“Andor!” Kirney shouts from above.
Andor lets out a low, impatient growl that matches the carnal intensity in his eyes, and my stomach twists giddily. He turns his head. “On my way!” he yells, and then he looks back to me. “I realize this may have not been the perfect time to do this,” he says. “But I don’t know what lies ahead for us. And, above all…I really fucking wanted to.”
He turns, grabbing my hand, and leads me along to the stairs and up to the top deck and now all my unmet desires have been buried by total fear. There was finality in that kiss, the idea that it was now or never because we don’t know what will happen next. The kiss of someone who doesn’t know if they’ll come back alive.
“Maybe I should go on my own to the Dark City,” I tell him. “You stay on the ship. I’ll get my aunt and bring her back.”
He looks down at me as we step out on the top deck, the sun baking us in an instant now that we’re no longer out at sea. “I’m not letting you out of my sight for a minute,” he says gravely, giving my hand a firm squeeze.
“Because you don’t trust me,” I say. “You think I won’t return.”