His hand tightens, his touch sending shivers rippling over my skin. My fingers tighten into his shirt, pulling him closer without my permission. His lips are warm, demanding, insistent, and it sparks something deep within me. My free hand snakes up behind his neck, my fingers grazing over the soft bristles of his short-cropped hair, holding him to me as the kiss deepens. I taste the sweetness of his mouth, the hint of spice from his breath, and I moan softly, unable to stop myself.
He pulls back just a fraction, his lips hovering over mine. “You taste even better than I imagined.” His thumb strokes my lower lip, and I feel the soft touch like an electric shock. “Witch.”
My heart gallops, a wild, erratic rhythm. I can’t catch my breath. My body is on fire, aching for more. I know I should push him away. I know I should curse him for daring to kiss me. But instead, I rise on my toes, seeking his mouth again. His arms wrap around me, and the kiss turns hungry, desperate.
I’m drowning in sensation. His lips are demanding, his tongue tangling with mine. My fingers clutch at his shoulders, his back, feeling the hard lines of his body pressed against mine. I’ve never been kissed like this. I’ve never wanted anyone like this. It’s as if my body is alive for the first time, every nerve ending singing.
I’m dimly aware of the surroundings, the whispering trees, the soft moonlight, and the quiet rustle of the night creatures. But it all fades into the background, overshadowed by the intensity of the kiss. I’m consumed by the feel of him, the taste of him, the scent of him. It’s like falling into a dark, heady abyss, and I don’t want to find my way out.
He breaks the kiss slowly, his lips dragging across mine, his breath warm on my skin. “Kara,” he whispers, his voice thick with desire.
My name on his lips sends a shudder through me. I lean into him, my hands buried in his hair, my body molded to his. I don’t want to let him go. I don’t want this moment to end. But even as I think it, reality comes crashing down.
What am I doing?
I’m kissing the enemy. I’m losing myself in a vampire’s arms. I pull back, gasping for air, my heart hammering in my chest.
He’s silent for a moment. Then he opens his mouth to speak. “Twatwaffle?” His eyebrow lifts.
“What just happened? What was that?” I ask, my voice hoarse.
He smirks, his eyes glittering in the moonlight. “Just a taste, witch. But I intend to have more.”
“In your dreams, bloodsucker!”
“Or maybe yours.” He grins.
“Oh, my God! You…you—”
“Are we interrupting anything?” My dad’s voice has me spinning around so fast, I lose my balance. Marcus steadies me with his hand on my shoulder. I shrug it away. Mom, Mia, and Rowan are hovering behind him, staring at me curiously.
“Well, that could have worked out better,” Darick says drily as he steps around Rowan. He focuses on Marcus. “I see you’re exercising your usual charm with the ladies, Nightshade.”
“Fuck off, Drake,” Marcus mutters.
I open my mouth to say something – anything – to deflect from what just happened, but then a foreign thought crashes into my mind.
“She’s even more beautiful when she’s angry. Gods, I want to kiss her again.”
I freeze, my heart stuttering. That wasn’t my thought. That deep, masculine voice in my head definitely isn’t mine. My eyes snap to Marcus, who’s smirking at Darick’s comment.
“Focus. Don’t let them see how much she affects you.”
It’s him. His voice.
Holy shit!
I’m hearing his thoughts. Actually hearing them, clear as day, like he’s speaking them out loud. But his lips aren’t moving.
“Keep your distance. She already hates vampires. Don’t make it worse.”
The world tilts sideways. I grip the nearest tree to steady myself, barely registering Dad’s concerned question or Mom’s step forward. All I can focus on is the stream of thoughts flowing from Marcus’s mind into mine.
“Should have controlled myself better. But the way she feels…”
An image flashes through my head – me in his arms, my lips parted, cheeks flushed. But it’s from his perspective, mixed with his feelings, his desire. The intensity of it makes my knees weak.
“Stop staring at her mouth. Everyone’s watching.”
