Behind Mathias, his father’s head snapped in our direction.
And he looked right through us.
There was no hint of realization.
Whatever the darkness was,it was on my side. Helping me. Hiding me from the dead king who had tricked me into giving him my soul.
Hemlock stormed away, shouting monotone words that held no weight or echo, unable to penetrate the shadows that shielded us.
“How did you do that?” Mathias’s lips whispered into my hair.
“That wasn’t me.”
His head moved lower and lower in slow deliberate movements. “But this is you,” he whispered, and then I felt him like gentle flames or a warm rain. A soft shivering brush of his lips just beneath my jaw, melting against my throat. “My favorite place to stay was always in the curve of your neck. Right here.” His mouth was against my skin, soft and scorching like a warm summer breeze.
I closed my eyes, drowning in the sensation.
Then he took my face in his hands, his fingers sliding up to my temples, his thumbs resting softly on my cheeks. “Now that I know I can touch you, there are so many other places I can’t seem to stop thinking about.”
I couldn’t breathe.
His hand slipped through my hair, feathery soft, prickling heat along my scalp. A gentle tug and my head tipped back, and he held me there, staring up at him, closing his fist in the tangle of strands. “Touching you is like reading poetry.”
I sucked in a sharp breath. His words, I could fall in love with each and every one of them. “Poetry?” I whispered, watching his eyes search wildly into me.
“I fell in love with you so long ago.” He leaned down and his lips touched the corners of mine. A small soft whisper of a touch, so gentle, like a cool breeze passing over my skin. “It was because of the way you touched me without ever needing to use your hands.”
I found myself lifting up onto my tippy toes, my heart drumming madly in my chest.
“Without ever knowing, you touched me with your life, every moment of it, in the lost places human hands could never reach me,” he whispered, brushing his lips past mine.
Oh God, Mathias just shut up and kiss me. I wanted to scream the words. How much time did we have left? What if Hemlock came back?
His mouth moved down my face and I tensed, heat blooming across my cheeks as he reached the other side of my neck and pressed his lips down. His mouth lingered there, and our breathing became audible, both of us, struggling for air.
Just kiss me.
I dragged my fingers down his throat to his chest and pressed my body against his.
His fist tightened in my hair, and for a moment he pulled his head back, and our eyes caught. Around him I could see the darkness slowly slipping past us, in slow motion, seeping back into the cracks of rock and earth of our hiding spot.
Kiss me, please. Before it’s too late.
One of his hands dropped to my waist, his fingers sliding down, in between my skin and the hem of my shirt. There was an ache in his expression as his fingers dug into my skin.
“Mathias…”
His lips were against mine, soft and still at first, his chest rising and falling like the waves of an ocean just before a storm. Shivers raced through my shoulders, his fingers trembled along my skin.
I reached both my arms up and pulled him down to me, losing myself to his mouth, knotting my fists into his collar and pressing him harder against me.
His kiss stole my breath away.
He makes me want to stay here.For this.
Mouth open, tongue pressing in, his taste was everything I’ve ever craved. His hands were everywhere, up the back of my shirt, over my arms and face. Every part of my body melted into his. He was kissing me so fiercely the world seemed to blaze up in flames around us. My blood heated and my heart exploded with a blinding fullness, so wrapped around each other, but we were still not close enough.
“How can we be together?” I didn’t want to stop. I didn’t want him to let go. “How are we supposed to make this work?”
