Page 93 of Vale of Dreams

Oh, gods. I can’t tell if he’s joking. It could go either way with him. I clear my throat. “That’s not necessary, Talan. There were two of them, and they ran off, but I injured them severely. I think they bled to death in the woods.”

“I will find whoever is behind this. Arwenna, perhaps. There are rumors that she’s been trying to kill you.”

Talan stares at my wound again, and the temperature in the room cools even further. Thunder rumbles across the horizon outside, and hail slams against the window.

“Let me fix that abomination.” Frowning, he turns, scanning the room. He rises from the bed and yanks open a drawer. Thank the gods for my caution: my inhaler, lock picks, and spare knives are hidden behind a loose brick in the bathroom, where they won’t be found accidentally. He pulls out the little sewing kit I’d used to stitch myself, takes out a needle and a tiny pair of silver scissors, and settles next to me on the bed.

His attention narrows to the rough-looking stitching on my waist. Gently, carefully, he uses the needle to tease out the knotted thread. Then, using the small scissors, he snips the knot. The pain beneath it throbs a little as he works. As heat radiates off his skin onto mine, he pulls out the thread. I feel it tugging against my skin until he smoothly removes the final stitch. It looks slightly healed now, and there’s a bad, jagged red scar, but it’s no longer an open wound. Pain still blooms beneath the surface.

He glances up at me. “I can help you.” He grabs my hips, shifting me down a little.

“Is this really necessary?” I whisper.

He nods, and I feel his warm breath against my skin. Already, shivers are running over my skin. His warm, strong palms root my hips in place. His lips brush against the cut, lightly at first. Testing. Then he extends his tongue, licking around the red scar. As he does, hot tingles spread from the place where his tongue meets my skin. My heart starts to race, and the heat of his mouth moves over me.

Holding me firmly in place, he kisses my skin. As his healing magic ripples through me, I hear faint glimpses of his thoughts—lust-soaked glimmers dripping with desire.

She scorches me with her stare…I will bind our bodies as a tempest of desire sweeps through us…I want to taste her. I want to hear her scream my name, our passion a comet streaking across the sky…

His tongue strokes my skin, and need sweeps through me. An aching warmth pulses in my core, and my thighs clench.

My nightgown is still hitched over my waist, and I’m acutely aware of how naked I am now. He grips the hem in his fist, holding it up, his knuckles white. My back arches, hips bucking a little.

I will brand her with a kiss…

My breath shallows, and my skin looks healed now, but his tongue brushes over the hollows of my hips. Pleasure rocks through me, and liquid heat courses down. I can hardly think straight. Under my nightgown, my breasts peak. As I breathe in and out, the delicate silk feels like an exquisite torture. I crave more of him.

I let out a moan?—

Gods, I can’t let this happen. I’m supposed to be spying on him, not letting him seduce me.

My fingers thread into his hair. “I think it’s done now,” I manage in a whisper.

He lifts his head to gaze at me, his copper-ringed eyes smoldering like embers. “But I don’t think you are done with me,” he whispers. “Are you?” He glances up at me, searching my eyes, as if he’s seeing right into my soul, discovering my secrets, taking me apart one piece at a time. Uncovering exactly how much my body aches for him.

I’m breathing hard, and my pulse is racing. “Our relationship is supposed to be fake. That was the deal.”

His biceps flex as he moves his face closer to mine, and his earthy, musky scent envelops me. One of his hands is still gripping my nightgown, and his lips hover above mine. “But you want me, don’t you? Are you lying to yourself when you say you don’t?”

I lick my lips, and I can’t bring myself to say no. I’m sure he can read my secrets, anyway. He doesn’t know who I am, but he knows what I want. Warmth radiates off his powerful body, and I feel his magic licking at my skin, stroking me.

His stare ignites me, and sensual need sweeps through me. Without even realizing what I’m doing, I wrap my thighs around his waist.

My mind is screaming at me to stop this, but I don’t seem to be able to find the words as his body presses over mine, steely and unyielding.

His full, sensual lips part. I can’t look away from his perfect face, from the heat in his eyes. From that intoxicating darkness in them.

I try to think clearly, but all I can hear is my own heartbeat, rhythmically pounding.

“Tell me if you want me to stop,” he says.

His beauty entrances me, and I can’t seem to form the words. I should be telling him to stop. That I’m already healed. But all I do is lick my lips in invitation.

His head dips, and I feel his breath on my neck. His canines graze over the throbbing pulse in my throat, feather-light, and hot tingles race over my body. Arching my neck, I invite more. He kisses my throat, tongue flicking over my skin, and my core tightens. He’s tasting me, teasing me.

As my hips shift against him, I grip his hair. Slow, languid strokes of his tongue slide over the throbbing pulse in my neck. His body is steely and warm against me, his skin surprisingly soft.

Flames consume the night…simmering in a crucible of lust…

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