Page 93 of Flame and Sparrow

“While thinking of me.” I’d meant it as a scathing remark, a harsh comment to try and embarrass him for his bold, teasing words.

It backfired immediately.

The look it drew from him made my stomach flip so violently I nearly lost my balance. Heat pooled too fast, in too many sensitive places, and my question from before—about whether or not he’d been serious about his plans to pleasure himself to me—was answered.

There was nothing teasingabout the expression on his face.

His eyes burned with pure, unabashed lust. If we had been entirely alone, I wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d grabbed me right then, and…

No.

I wasn’t going to think about what he might have done.

A peal of nearby laughter reminded us we were not, in fact, alone, and he stayed perfectly composed aside from those wild eyes.

“Well?” I pressed for some reason. “Did you?”

“Immensely,” he said.

It took me several attempts to manage a normal breath.

“You look nice, by the way. Radiant, even.” He exchanged the chalice he’d repaired for the glass of wine on the table beside him. “For an elf,” he added with a glance at my ears.

He sipped slowly from his glass, drinking it as he drank me in, as though he didn’t have a single care in the world just then aside from studying me, complimenting me, confusing me.

I thought of all the thingsIcared about, all the reasons I was here, and it took a concentrated effort not to snatch the wine glass from his hand and fling its contents into his face.

“Have I rendered you speechless, yet again?” He smiled, obviously enjoying the idea.

Asshole.

“What would you like me to say?”

“You could compliment me back,” he suggested.

“Why would I do that?”

“I don’t know. For conversation’s sake.”

“Well, let me see…” I looked him up and down, trying very hard to appear uninterested in his appearance, forcing myself to be indifferent to the muscular cleft of his chest peeking out from underneath his loose shirt, to be unconcerned with his perfectly tailored pants clinging to his perfectly sculpted lower half.

All the beautiful statues the humans had built of him were—unfortunately—not entirely inaccurate.

If anything, they didn’t do him justice.

“Your appearance doesn’t make me want to claw my eyes out tonight,” I informed him. “You’re almost pleasant to look at, even. For a god.”

His smile brightened.

Music drifted in from the room Valas and the others were in.

Dravyn glanced toward the sound, listening to the loud conversation taking place within it for a moment before rising to his feet and offering me his hand.

Against my better judgment, I took it.

We twirled around the room in a slow waltz, completely out of sync with the wild music next door. After a few minutes of moving to one another’s rhythms, I don’t think either of us even realized there was music playing.

The wine was settling in my blood, truly taking hold of me. It was making my balance questionable, but Dravyn’s hold was strong, his movements fluid and easy to follow. With him guiding me, I didn’t have to think about next steps, which left me free to study him more closely.

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