Page 55 of A Palace of Smoke & Mirrors
My stomach flipped again. “I have to dowhat?”
Lucais huffed, a sharp exhale through his nose. I noticed that the light in his eyes was paling ever so slightly, but then he closed them. “Fucking kiss me, Auralie. Do not make me beg.”
“I’m not kissing an open wound—”
“On the mouth, you infernal vixen!” he shouted, eyes flying open again. His hand moved in a flash, grabbing my chin and tugging me towards him. I lost my balance, palms slamming into the ground to stop myself from falling over his lap, and gasped as tiny rocks and stones dug into my skin. My lips were in striking distance of his, but Lucais just held me there with a firm grip, his ragged breathing flooding my face with the scent of caged desire and concealed pain.
“Kiss me, please,” he breathed, the gold in his eyes swirling like a sunset storm. He was on the verge of begging. “Press your mouth to mine and pretend that you can love me enough to leave it there until I feel better.”
In the back of my mind, I was aware that he’d pulled similar tricks on me before. He’d lingered in my bed for days longer than necessary after the last locust attack, milking my sympathy and attention until Morgoya had stormed into the room and blown his cover. Even then, he’d feigned weakness when he’d finally gotten out of bed, waiting until I was seconds away from tearing my wrist open with my own teeth before he burst into laughter and gave up the façade.
Still, Lucais seemed to have some weird thing with locusts, and he’d required my blood to cure him of their poison in the past. Maybe the iron on their claws was more potent, too.
I studied him, the sharp angles of his face softening with the effects of pain, the colour of his eyes simmering down into bland shades of sand and seashells, and the hapless expression that overtook the shape of his mouth when he reluctantly convinced himself that my answer would be no. As he was about to move into position to force himself back onto his feet, I reacted, my hand shooting out to hold him in place.
“Fine,” I whispered. “Okay.”
Something indecipherable flickered across Lucais’s eyes, but he waited patiently for me to close the distance between our lips.
“Because you went back for them,” I told him firmly.
I was stubborn, irate, and most of my threats were empty, but I was under no misapprehension that I couldforcethe High King to do anything he didn’t want to do. Lucais had known the locusts followed us back into Faerie, yet he’d returned to put my mind at ease that my family was not at risk.
An unsteady breath crossed the threshold of my mouth, and then it was pressed against his.
Lucais’s lips parted immediately, drawing me in slowly, his tongue skating across my upper lip before dipping into my mouth. Lucais tasted like sunlight and cotton candy, but I was the one melting as he carefully explored me with his tongue, nipping my lower lip when he wanted to drag me closer, tilting his head to achieve a deeper angle. His hands were suddenly in my hair, and I was sliding onto his lap.
He crushed my mouth to his, the elimination of space between us deliberate and measured. Lucais held me with skill and reverence, taking the time to touch each part of my tongue with his, to leave no part of my mouth ignored. A moan formed deep in my throat and escaped unbidden, and Lucais swallowed it greedily, tightening his arms around me until I forgot which parts of my body belonged to me and which parts belonged to him.
I felt my nipples hardening into aching peaks beneath the fabric of my shirt, defying the pressure of our bodies pressed so infinitely close together. Lucais’s tongue caressed mine with lazy indulgence, the tips of our noses touching briefly as we swapped angles back and forth—like it was routine, like we’d kissed each other a thousand times and knew exactly how to do it thoroughly and powerfully.
Liquid heat pooled in my lower belly, a sensation like molten lava dripping down my spine with each stroke of his tongue and pull of his lips. When one of his hands slid from the back of my head to rest along my jaw, holding me in place as he bent his head to the side and swiped his tongue along the roof of my mouth, accompanied by a faint rumble deep in his chest, I—
We have to stop.His voice was in my head, his words clear yet distant—and in total opposition to his actions as he continued to kiss me like it was his favourite pastime.
So stop,I replied through the bond, twisting my fingers in his hair as he bent forward to reclaim full control of my mouth, tugging me back to him with my lower lip between his teeth.
I will.He licked the taste of our kiss from the corner of my mouth before sliding his tongue against mine, pushing it deeper, as if he could lure my soul out of my body and imprison it between his jaws.In a minute.
Uh-huh.
Shamelessly, I entertained both the kiss and the mental conversation as if they were part of a dream—something that happened that could never be proven because there were no witnesses, and I could probably gaslight myself into thinking that I’d made it all up.
Lucais’s taste was exotic, the feel of his mouth exciting in the kind of way that seemed like it was always a long time coming. I lost myself inside him, a slave to the sensation as he devoured me without leaving a crumb leftover for the crows.
With every passing second, with every shift of his body beneath me, my skin was lighting up like a cave of glow worms, each nerve becoming torturously attuned to the way Lucais felt when his skin brushed mine or his muscles flexed. His hands on the side of my face and in my hair felt so permanent—like we were part of a statue breaking free from a spell, coming to life against each other, determined to finish what we’d started when we’d first been hexed.
Visions hit me with every burst of his scent, his taste, the sound of his indulgent moans. Images of us tangled together on the ground, my legs entwined with his, clothes discarded, skin against skin, his body discovering a home deep inside of mine—
He broke the kiss.
I didn’t think he was going to, but he did. I scrambled off his lap, feigning desperation to check on the status of his wound to cover the way my skin had caught fire from my hairline tomy toes. I sucked in air as I stared at his legs, too breathless and violently aroused to remark on the fact that both of them appeared completely whole and untouched.
Lucais rested his head against the tree, and I stole a glance at him, relieved to find that he was equally out of breath and flushed from head to toe. The bulge beneath his belt suggested that he, too, was violently aroused. But he’d broken the kiss first, so I scooted back and stared at the dirt on my hands, waiting until the distance between us allowed me to come back to my senses. My traitorous heart was a war drum tumbling down a mountainside, beating solely for his attention.
“I healed myself,” he said after a moment, his voice huskier than normal. “In case you’re wondering.” When I didn’t respond, he added, “It was much easier to do it with the pleasure of your body to distract me from the pain in mine.”
I inclined my head to him, acknowledging the vague thank you. “Are you able to evanesce?”
