Page 71 of Touch of Death
Death stiffens as his arms tighten around me.
Slowly, he reaches out to tilt my chin up so that our eyes meet once again, his own filled with anguish as he looks at me.
“That is not what I meant, little one. I was speaking of his crassness. My feelings for you cannot be summed up in such a way. Eros is mistaken because I adore you. From the day you stumbled into my forest, I have wanted to worship you with every fiber of my being … and yet, I have found myself unworthy of you.”
Blinking, I try to ignore the way my heart beats faster and faster, hardly daring to believe what he’s telling me. Fearing that, perhaps, I’m hearing him wrong. And yet, I cannot stop hope from blossoming in my chest as he traces my cheek with his thumb.
“Hazel, my heart beats for you and you alone,” Death says, his voice low and gentle. “If you will but have me.”
“I will,” I say, my voice so soft it’s nearly inaudible. “I love you more than I ever dared to let myself believe possible.”
Without thinking, without hesitating to consider what I’m doing, I reach up to touch his face.
I take in the sharp planes of his face, my fingers brushing against his cheek before he has a chance to pull away. Ice shoots through my fingertips, racing up my arm and striking the very depths of my being.
It dawns on me what I’ve just done as both Death, and I remain frozen in place.
I’ve touched Death.
I want to curse myself for being so careless, for ending this moment between us, as I search his eyes in panic. Only death doesn’t come for me.
A heartbeat passes before I realize his fingers are in my hair, intertwining themselves in the strands at the nape of my neck. His grip tightens on me as something new sparks to life in his eyes.
Before I can question it, he bends to brush his lips against mine, his kiss soft and feather-light as heat and ice mix into passion.
This time, as he pulls me closer to him, his kiss brings me back to life.
31
Death
Itremble, hardly daring to believe it possible as I lose myself completely to her. Hazel’s touch, the burn of her skin, the press of her lips against mine.
Nothing exists outside of us, and this moment, as we melt into one another, and I deepen our kiss before pulling back.
I take in her beauty as I lift one hand to my mouth and pull off my glove, tossing it aside with a jerk of my head.
“May I?” I whisper, my fingertips hovering next to her face.
“Yes.”
Tentatively I trace the line of her jaw toward her chin, and for the first time in my life, I touch someone I love without having to watch them die. My heart shatters, and I have to choke back the tears that burn the backs of my eyes as this realization overwhelms me.
How long I have waited for a moment like this, and to find it here, with her … I bend, finding her lips with mine, yet again. Hungry for her as I pull her flush against me. Hazel returns my kiss, her heat singeing me as my fingers tighten in her hair.
Gently, I break away, pulling her head to one side as I trail kisses down her neck, savoring the way my fingertips are able to trace the lines of her back. She lets out a small sigh, her body arching into my touch.
I want nothing more than to show her the pleasure she is silently begging me for, but I force myself to go slow. To not rush this moment that I have spent an eternity waiting for.
Putting her arms around my neck, I bend to pick her up so that her legs wrap around my waist as I wade toward the edge of the pool. Her fingers trail up into my hair as I shower her neck and shoulder with tender kisses.
Setting Hazel down on the stone trim, I move to step back, but her legs tighten around me, anchoring me to her. I let out a low growl of want, unable to suppress the surge of possessive want that burns through me at this. A fierce need to finally claim her as mine.
But even as I allow myself a moment to revel in the heat and passion between us, a cold fear grips me.
I know that our love is forbidden. That it goes against everything our worlds stand for. I am a being of darkness, and she is a creature of light.
Our love is not supposed to exist, and yet, here we are, consumed by it … tempting the Fates with our sheer impossibility.
