My breath shudders—and lures his gaze.
For a beat, he just considers my mouth, damp with tears…
Then my breath pins to my chest.
Samick brings his lips to mine.
“And so are you,” he says, soft, before his mouth presses against mine—and he kisses me.
SEVENTEEN
Samick’s tongue delves into my mouth, cold and crisp.
The tree scrapes against my back. The pressure against my head throbs, the bark grating and tugging over the spine of my sweater. Splinters catch in the wool, but that’s nothing compared to the harrowing reality that a fae warrior iskissingme.
The surprise slackens me.
It gives him full, complete control.
It parts my lips for him.
Let’s his arm slide around the small of my back, between me and the rough trunk, and pull me impossibly close to him.
Maybe I shouldn’t be so surprised.
It’s not like his fingers haven’t been inside of me. It’s not like his dick hasn’t been inside of me. His cum, even. Crass, but true. He has explored me, adventured around my body, taken and given, but never this.
Never kissed me.
Not once.
It’s not something I thought about.
Not something I registered.
Not until now, in this very moment.
Samick’s hand slides from my jaw around to my nape, fingertips leaving a trail of prickling flesh in their wake. His fingers thread into my hair, and fist.
He tugs, pulling my head back, and that opens my mouth that bit more for him.
His kiss deepens.
A moan whispers from me, and he swallows it, consumes it.
There’s nothing gentle about the way he kisses me. He’s come undone, he’s claiming, he’s…
Losing.
Losing what, I don’t know. An inner battle. A grappling with his pride.
And he’s punishing me for it.
He harshens the kiss until my teeth ache and each stroke of his tongue is a cruel lashing.
The fist in my hair tightens—and he swallows my shout, devours it.
I reach up for him.
