Page 85 of Rok's Captive
His head lifts at my words, his molten gold eyes locking onto mine with a force that steals the air from my lungs.
Despite the tremors wracking his powerful frame, despite the tension coiling through every muscle in his body, his touch, when it comes, is exquisitely gentle.
His hands come up to cradle my face. The warmth of his palms seeps into my skin, and I almost release a moan.
I freeze, my breath hitching.
“Rok…” I whisper.
His thumbs brush along my jaw, and for a moment, I forget everything—the fear, the uncertainty. There’s only him, his touch, his eyes burning into mine with a desperation I don’t understand.
And yet…
I can see that this is costing him.
His glow flickers, dimming and brightening, dimming and brightening, as if the effort of touching me is too much. His claws twitch against my skin, as if he’s struggling to hold himself back.
“Why are you doing this?” I murmur, my voice barely audible. “If it hurts you, why?—”
He leans forward then, slowly, pressing his forehead to mine.
I gasp softly at the contact, my heart pounding in my chest as his warmth surrounds me. His breath fans against my lips, ragged and strained, as his body trembles against mine.
For a moment, neither of us moves.
We just stay like that, forehead to forehead, his hands cradling my face, my fingers clutching at his wrists.
His eyes flutter closed, and I can’t help but stare at him, at the way his features soften even as his body remains tense.
“This is almost more intense than French kissing,” I whisper, but the joke falls flat even to my ears.
I close my eyes as Rok’s fingers tighten slightly against my jaw, and then?—
His voice fills my mind.
Urgent. Strained.
“Leave. We must hurry.”
A lump forms in my throat as I open my eyes. He’s already staring at me, his molten gold gaze piercing through the darkening shadows of the cave. His eyes are wild, desperate, and for a moment, I can’t breathe.
“Yes,” I whisper, the sound barely audible. “We should.”
His gaze flickers down to my lips, lingering there, and my heart stutters in my chest. Without thinking, my tongue runs over them like an invitation.
Kiss him.
“We can’t.” The words leave my lips, but they lack conviction.
I know what he wants.
I know it in the way his glow pulses erratically beneath his skin, the way his hands tremble as they cradle my face.
The air between us crackles like a live wire, coiling tighter, brighter, until it feels like the cave itself might ignite.
And then I think:Why not?
Before I can second-guess myself, I close the small distance between us, pressing my lips to his.
