Page 38 of What Lies Within Masks & Shadows

He pulled away slightly, lips parted, but previously tanned skin remained pale. A black tunic hung loosely off his chest, tucked into dark pants, open to reveal carved swells and dips of muscles. The strong grip he maintained caused veins to bulge up his … blood-covered arms. The black sleeves were rolled up to his elbows.

Alora squirmed under him.

The pants pulled tight across his legs as he straddled her waist, leaving his lower half every bit appalling and … sinfully appealing. And though she’d never admit it, she found an attraction to his body. It was difficult not to. The way it moved above her. His strength and power … the ice in his touch instead of warm hands.

A heat flushed her cheeks that quickly faded.

She knew his kind well. Because she had survived another monster. But this male wasn’t Kaine. He was something much worse.

Silver eyes stared back into hers with ice as he clearly registered her greedy exploration of his body. Clenching his defined jaw, he breathed so heavily that she could feel his chest brush hers. And that gray hair—waving gracefully on top of his head like grass in a meadow. A few strands draped down in front of his eyes, masking the blood splatter on his flesh, which only heightened his devastating, gorgeous face even with the wounds she had delivered to him earlier.

“Enjoying the view?” he quipped with a wicked smirk.

Alora watched as his silver glow traveled from her face and down her body, just as she’d done to him. Painfully aware of what he found; his borrowed cloak pooled on the furs and her ripped, navy tunic, courtesy of the High King’s soldiers. Revealing a perfect view of what she would never offer him willingly.

“Get”—Alora’s voice shook—“off me.”

He gave her a considering stare. “That would be unwise.”

“The mighty prince is afraid of a female so …unprepared?” Alora taunted with a pleasing grin.

Garrik scoffed. “Perhaps I am imagining the inconvenience of cleaning up your blood from another failed escape.”

Perhaps I’m imagining your head on a pike.How pleasing that would be.

“Were you aware that your cheeks scarlet when you picture death? What a wicked, clever thing I have captured.”

Had—had she said that out loud?

“Only … that was not truly what you were imagining.” For only a moment, a glistening softness flashed in his eye. She felt a slight tremble, a hesitation in his grip. “Was it?” that honeyed voice whispered, flowing over her in a wave of confusion and sharp intent.

And Alora relaxed her body in response, loosening her taut face, sinking into the plushness of the furs. That cunning mindbegan to race, parting her lips slightly as an abrupt breath escaped.

Garrik’s eyes went lazy. Half-lidded as his strong neck loosened to drop his head lower. His cold breath trickled across her neck, and he took in a greedy inhale.

Their lips—they were entirely too close … just as she had planned.

And he fell for it…

She touched her lips to his and fought away a heart thundering panic in her bones as cold lips brushed back. Quivering when they so softly pressed down.

Stars.The icy chill from them radiated down her spine, and his touch to her skin was unlike anything she expected. The carved muscles of his body pressed against her, and one strong hand loosened its hold with every tender kiss.

Slowly gliding the ringed fingers down her side until they rested at her waist, the other lifted her arms above them.

He kissed her like she was his to own—deeper—pressing her head into the pillows by the crash of his lips.

Everything in her body, even her scent, created the illusion that she was enjoying every moment. Illusioned desperation. Wanting more as his hand left her waist and brushed to her neck and chin, gripping there too. She inhaled a breath, sharp as shattered glass, at the touch of his calluses. The chilled trace sent deep shivers across her body.

Shehatedit.

Hated that she almost enjoyed what he was doing. What she was letting him do. This was nothing but an illusion. It wouldn’t be more. Couldn’t.

Panic deepened within her chest in thundering beats.Focus.

His tongue traced her lips.

Understanding his ask, Alora parted for him, allowing him to slide inside, claiming her mouth in lazy scrapes of his tongue.Garrik’s kissing was … intoxicating. Surely perfected by years of bedroom proclivities that a royal such as himself would lure females into. And so, she let him lose himself inside, let him focus on the movements of his mouth—on her.

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