Page 101 of Taken By Touch and Torment

He’d clearly just arrived back from killing or torturing enemies. And that knowledge only compounded the heat in my core.

I stood up, glancing behind me to make sure the book was out of view.

Rune lifted a brow. “Did you seriously just hide The Taming of Marianne?”

My face heated. “Um, no…” I lied.

There’d been a hint of anger in his eyes when he’d first found me, but it melted into amusement the longer I consumed him with my gaze.

“Sorry, I should’ve showered and changed before I checked in on you.”

“No,” I blurted, and his eyes flashed. “The blood is hot.”

Rune smirked and shook his head. He opened his mouth to speak, then stiffened when I approached him. I stared up at him. Lifting my hand, I traced the brutally beautiful planes of his face. My gaze devoured the evidence of violence splattered on his dark clothes, his flawless skin marked by shadow. His sleeves were rolled up, revealing his toned arms.

“Enjoying your read?” His voice was strained all of a sudden.

I nodded. “Uh-huh.” His scent was intoxicating—masculine and woodsy, undercut with the smell of winter and pine, fire, and musk. I inhaled deeply, remembering what he looked like underneath his clothes.

“Gods, Scarlett,” he hissed. “Please tone it down.”

“Tone what down?” I asked while running a finger along the pulsing vein of his forearm.

He glared at me. “Your arousal that is growing stronger by the second.”

I watched him try and fail to hold his breath. I hadn’t been this aroused since… Rune had claimed me. I might’ve felt the slick familiarity of shame if I wasn’t so consumed by my own lust, dormant for too long. I welcomed the sensation. It was a win—to know I could still experience real desire that belonged only to me.

“Why should I?” I asked softly, reaching to touch his face again.

He grabbed my wrist, lightning fast. His shadows slithered toward me, moving from smoke to solid limbs as they tucked in their thorns and wrapped around my ankles, rooting me to the ground.

“Because you’re driving me fucking insane,” he growled. “I can’t feed enough to rid myself of the desire for your blood. The least you can do is read some nice, wholesome literature and stop undressing me with your eyes.”

The humor he’d tried to lace into his words was rendered less effective with the obvious swell of his cock in his black pants. His shadows only continued to crawl up my body and tighten. His eyes darkened, his body rigid as stone as the room flooded with power.

“You fed from someone else?”

“I had to,” he said. “I don’t even know whose blood it was, only that it was a male volunteer. It was in a chalice and unceremoniously choked down for fuel.”

“I want you,” I said.

Rune groaned, his eyes closing as he massaged the bridge of his nose.

I reached for him with my free hand. I traced his jaw before moving my fingers to the back of his head, running them through his soft strands of dark hair. I couldn’t move my legs to stand on my toes, so I gently pulled him to meet me instead.

Rune’s eyes flew open, understanding what I wanted. He stared into my eyes first, assessing. “Are you sure?”

I nodded.

He studied my lips, then cursed.

He bent, and the moment his lips met mine, the entire world melted into the sweetest darkness.

41

SCARLETT

At first Rune was gentle, teasing, as if getting reacquainted with my lips. Then he sighed into my mouth, holding my face in his palms as he consumed me. His tongue brushed along my lower lip, where I’d been chewing as I read about Edgar dominating Marianne.

---