Page 67 of A Dusk Of Stars

Until the first slithers of pain flood me, making me have to fight not to wince.

Abruptly, he frowns and grabs my wrist, asking in a low, surprised voice, “What’re you doing?”

My eyes round and my entire body stiffens.

No no no.

***

It comes as such a shock — how naked it makes me feel — that for one long, breathless moment, I just keep looking at him like a deer in headlights, before I break my wrist free and scramble to my feet, moving to start running back to the castle.

He appears in front of me, making me bump into his chest. “I asked what you were doing just now, Novak,” he demands in a low voice as I double back.

No no no, that’s all that’s going through my head. “Nothing,” I breathe out, taking a step back and hoping against all reason that he’ll just forget about this. Right now.

He mirrors me by taking a step forward, his eyes narrowing. “You were hurting yourself.”

I slink back some more. “Don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say, still breathless with surprise.

That only makes him follow me again, shifting his eyes just before he demands, “You changed your name, didn’t you? That’s why I can’t find anything about you.”

I can do nothing but stare at him with wide, unblinking eyes.

It’s harder to lie, now that I’m being pinned in place by his burning gaze. “You’re ruining it,” I say in a despicably small voice.

“Ruiningwhat?”

I let the silence stretch, slowly realizing I was letting myself get carried away with this guy once again. But at least it helps me finally shake off my little deer-in-headlights moment.

I don’t say anything, but I tip my chin up in defiance, pressing my lips tight.

I see a muscle in his jaw jump, but it still startles me, when he grabs me by the wrist and gets in my face. “You need to tell me your real name,” he orders through gritted teeth.

The voice and the eyes, they make the wolf inside me stir and heat settle low in my core, but I keep my cool.

“Sure,” I purr with a smirk curling my lips. “It’s smartass.”

For one long moment, he just stares at me, his jaw still clenching and his nostrils starting to flare.

Then, as if something snaps, he grabs me by the waist and moves for my neck. My breath hitching, I find myself stumbling around the plateau with him, my hands blindly searching his body as his mouth showers these hungry bites on my neck, my shoulders, my collarbone.

My wolf revels in this. Each bite makes the heat in the pit of my stomach grow more frustrating and — still blundering around with him — I start trying to work my hands under his arms so I can take his shirt off and feel his skin against mine.

But he’s pressing himself too tightly to me. My frustration building, I dig my feet into the ground, making him stop moving with me and pushing into his shoulders with my hands to get him to pull away. Grumbling, he gets his nose off my neck and chooses not to waste time with buttons. He just rips his shirt open and moves to grab me again just as my eyes fix on his chest.

I slap his hands away. Gods.

I start touching, sliding my palms up and down the hot skin and the hard muscles tensing underneath, my eyes dropping to the sharp V disappearing under his belt and making my mind go blank.

It’s at that moment that his patience wears off. He grabs my hands, walks me backwards until I’m pressed against a tree and pulls both my wrist over my head, taking them in one hand and pinning them in place.

He buries his face in my neck again, inhaling and biting as his free hand starts squeezing me all over, making the heat between my legs turn wet.

And what I really want is to pay him back for what he’d done to me last time, but I can’t even move my arms, let alone slide my hand into his pants like I want to, that’s how tight he’s holding me.

When he pulls away a little to abuse the other side of my neck, I grab the opportunity to catch his bottom lip between my teeth.

He stiffens and I instantly get what I want, because the next thing I know, he’s letting out a groan, releasing my wrists and grabbing onto my waist as I tug at his lip.

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