Page 21 of Stolen
Like air made into fabric.
Cool. Soft. Shocking in how perfectly it fits.
As if it were made for me.
And maybe it was.
He turns towards me once I stand, smoothing the impossibly smooth fabric over my hips, and his gaze drops to my body.
I want to suck in, but really, that wouldn’t do much good in hiding the extra thirty or so pounds I carry around my middle.
So, I don’t bother.
I’m thirty-two, far too old to still feel that same old insecurity.
But what can I say? I guess it’s just a part of me.
Alaric straightens, then gestures to himself.
Broad shoulders. Towering height.
A presence that could surely blot out suns.
My mouth goes dry.
My heartbeat skips.
I’ve never seen anything like him.
“It is as I said. I am enormous,” he says simply, as if stating a fact of nature. “And you,Myrrin, are perfectly sized for me.”
My cheeks flush so hot they feel scorched.
He considers me for another beat, then nods once, turning his back again.
I sense his curiosity coiling just beneath the surface as I take a step. I wince at the cold hard stone and catch him watching once more in the mirror across the chamber.
Not with malice.
Not even simple lust.
It’s more like hunger.
And fascination.
“Wait,” he says, and before I can even ask what for, he’s right there, suddenly kneeling at my feet.
The movement is so fluid, so unexpected, it steals the breath right out of my lungs.
One minute he’s standing tall and untouchable, and the next, this massive, inhumanly beautiful male is lowering himself like I’m some kind of royalty.
Or something even more dangerous.
His hand hovers beneath my ankle, and I’m frozen, locked in his gaze.
Then he lifts one foot with surprising care and waves his hand over my skin.
A warm shimmer passes beneath his palm, like static wrapped in silk.
