Page 35 of Goblins Don't Count
“Because I was stressed out.”
“But I am also stressed out. Not eating your dress all evening was very stressful, and at the end, I failed, lost my self-control, and succumbed to my appetites.” He perched on the edge of the lounger by my feet, studying me with those rapacious eyes.
“Yes, well, I guess that’s true, but you don’t actually want to kiss me. I don’t want you to kiss me unless you want to kiss me.”
“I want to kiss you.” He leaned forward, but I put my hands on his bare chest, holding him back.
“No, the binding wants you to kiss me. You want to avoid all human entanglements.”
He looked down at my hand and covered it with his. “But we are entangled. And I do want to kiss you. Goblins don’t kiss, but it wasn’t unpleasant. I will try not to cut your soft lips with my teeth.”
“But you’re drugged on the dress. Who knows what you actually want?”
“I know what I want. And right now, it’s your mouth.”
Okay. I mean, I probably shouldn’t have believed him, because he was drugged on my dress, but a kiss wouldn’t hurt. I slid my hands up his chest, around his neck, and pulled his head down to meet mine.
I kissed him, hungry for his taste, for his feel, pulling him down on top of me so I could kiss him more comfortably. He didn’t land on me like I’d fallen on him with the chair. He kept himself braced above me, like he didn’t want to crush me.
Good. You can’t kiss when you’re crushed. And I was kissing him. No, he was kissing me. That’s why he was on top, except that he was much more restrained than I was. I wanted to devour him and be devoured, but he kept holding back in the most irritating way.
Finally, I rolled on top of him so I could trap him and kiss him hard, deep, searingly sweet. He tasted so good, his tongue and his breath, so good, so right. And sweet. So sweet. That must have been the taste of my dress on his tongue. And to think that he’d eaten the whole thing.
I growled and pressed harder against him, trying to sink into his bones. He growled back and then had his hand on the back of my head, giving me the exact pressure I craved. He felt so good licking me up, so absolutely devouring, but then his teeth got caught on my bottom lip, and my blood entered the picture.
He rolled me to the side, pulling away, eyes bright gold, panicked. “I cut you.” His hand was on my face, checking my bottom lip while I blinked at him, feeling drunker than a skunk. Or a raccoon.
“You bit me? Does that mean I have to bite you?”
He shook his head and picked me up, scooping me up like I weighed nothing. He promptly ran into a planter and knocked it over with a very loud crash.
I giggled as he recovered his balance and headed to the side of the building. “Where are you going? You can’t climb down the wall when you’re dress-drugged.”
“I can. I can’t stay up here with you or I don’t know what will happen.”
“I’ll kiss you again.”
He shot me a look and then refocused on the ledge and the drop beyond it. “Exactly. Can’t have you kissing me, because then I’ll have to reciprocate, and you know what goblins biting means.”
“I do not know what goblins’ biting means.” I said, tugging on his hair. “Just because I speak and read Goblin doesn’t mean I actually understand you.”
At that moment, he stepped off the edge of the building, dropping like a rock, me clinging to him and not breathing until he stopped, grabbing the side of the building and sliding down. He launched off this building’s wall and then landed on my windowsill. It was four inches wide, and he was still carrying me. The next moment, the window was open, and he gracefully ducked through, clasping me close to his chest. When he stepped to the floor, he tripped on nothing and sprawled on his back because he twisted at the last moment so he wouldn’t land on me, and instead it was me, landing on his chest, gazing down at him.
“You’re trying to kill me,” I said, poking his forehead, then flopping bonelessly over him. Seriously, that ride had not been the best, and now everything was spinning around and around and around. My dress really had been drugged. Or was a drug? I didn’t know. My thoughts were all a confused mess as he rolled us across the floor until we ran into the couch. Somehow, he put me on the couch and was standing above me, looking extremely green and mostly naked without his shirt. Because I was wearing it.
“What are you doing?” I asked, feeling like he’d been staring at me for a long time.
“I have no idea. You tell me. What am I doing?”
“Getting me a blanket.”
He nodded and then looked around, frowning at my living room. Finally, he got a throw and put it carefully over me, tugging to make sure it covered my feet. “There,” he said, straightening up and staring at me again.
“Now what are you doing?” I asked, feeling much better since I had his shirt and a blanket.
He shook his head. “Being dress-drugged. Or kiss drugged. Your blood is very sweet.”
I stuck my tongue out at him. “You can’t eat me. You already ate my dress.” I scooted close to the edge of the couch and patted the space behind me. “You should stay here, so no one kills me in my sleep. Also, so you don’t say creepy things about my blood.”
