Page 93 of Tarnished Crown

A whisper of fabric told me he was changing as well. Though this is what we did every single night, though I had spent half the evening with both of us in far less clothing than this, I suddenly found it impossible to breathe.

He took longer than usual to respond, giving me entirely too much time to focus on the way he was probably tugging his shirt down over his solidly muscled chest.

“They went well,” he finally answered.

Was I imagining the strain in his voice?

I was distracted enough wondering about it that I darted too quickly from the small closet and managed to plow directly into him.

He reached out his hands to brace me, one on each side of my ribcage, effectively steadying my trajectory.

Then why did it still feel like I was falling?

I looked up to meet the storm clouds churning in his eyes. His full, perfectly shaped lips parted at whatever he saw in my expression. His hands didn’t move from where they were grazing the sides of my waist, separated from my bare skin by only his thin shirt that I had grown far too used to wearing.

Heat spread through my body, slowly at first, then catching on like wildfire. Before I could help myself, before I could tell myself that of every stars-blasted stupid thing I had ever done in my life, this was sure to be the worst, I leaned forward.

And I’m certain I stopped breathing.

Indecision warred on his face. His grip tightened around me, his thumbs digging into my hip bones. For a perilously long, stilted moment, I wasn’t sure if he was going to push me away or pull me closer.

Then he did both.

Or neither.

I wasn’t sure which, only that my back was against the wall and his body was crushed against mine. My breath came out a strangled gasp, and there was no part of me that could pry my gaze from his.

So, I saw the exact moment he gave in.

“Der’mo, Lemmikki.” He was already leaning toward me when he muttered the words, and still, an eternity passed in the split second before he claimed my mouth with his.

Time stopped moving, stopped existing. The world itself fell away, like we were standing in the eye of a raging storm but not a single gale could reach us. Lightning crackled from his lips, his hands, from every point his body touched mine.

He didn’t kiss me like he was exploring or questioning or hesitating. He kissed me like he owned me in truth, and for once, I had no desire to argue with that.

I fused myself against him, parting my lips to deepen the kiss and running my fingers up his biceps to his muscular shoulders. His tongue darted out to tease me. There was something soEvanderabout it that I smirked, biting down on his bottom lip.

He groaned. “Two can play at that game, Lemmikki,” he murmured, sliding his mouth over to my ear and gently tugging on it with his teeth.

Of course he would taunt me, even now.

And of course, I would live for every last entangled moment of it.

I tilted my head back, moving my hands up to his glorious hair while he buried his face in my neck. Evander had one hand on the wall behind us, the other sliding along the back of my thigh, igniting every inch of me as he tugged my leg upward and--

The sound of a glass shattering pulled me out of my stupor. Evander froze, and we both looked to the source of the noise.

Somewhere between his hand and my knee, we must have knocked over the glass of water I had left on the end table. Silence descended in the wake of the crash, broken only by our ragged breaths.

He gently lowered my leg to the ground and straightened to his full height, which finally gave me the courage to slide my gaze back to his.

“Apologies, I--”

“Think nothing of it,” he said quickly, his voice frustratingly neutral. “I know you like to kiss all of your captors.”

My lips parted, and he tracked the motion, the intensity in his gaze belying his casual insult.

“Shall I assume you like to kiss all of your pets, then?” I shot back. “I’ll be sure to warn Boris when we return.”