Page 90 of Demon Kissed
And before I can argue, his mouth is on mine. If Van’s kiss was an a cappellasolo, Akor’s kiss is a rock concert. His thumbs trace down the sides of my neck, then tease the undersides of my breasts as he grabs me and pulls me close. He shoves a thigh in between mine, sliding me slowly up as he trails his lips down my neck. Then he bites my earlobe.
“Katty,” he whispers.
I’m a panting mess by the time he returns his lips to mine.
I lose all sense of space and time as he continues to devour me.
Only another male voice pulls me back.
“What the hell is this?” Zolroth sounds highly offended.
I jump back from Akor and cover my mouth as my eyes go wide. Zolroth and Raz are both standing there in the garden with disapproving looks on their faces.
“Katrina wasn’t feeling confident about her kissing abilities,” Van replies, making me slide my hands from my mouth to cover my eyes in abject humiliation.
“Oh really?” Zolroth says.
I feel a set of hands yank down my impromptu blindfold, and I find myself staring up at Zolroth. He shakes his head. “First, you didn’t fake break up with me. Now, I find out you’re practicing kissing with them but not with your fake boyfriend?”
His words are joking, but his eyes aren’t. They look vulnerable, so I’m not sure how to respond.
He doesn’t give me much of a chance because a second later, he’s wrapping an arm around me, dipping me back so that my foot flies up in the air, and plants the world’s softest kiss on my lips. It’s barely a brush of skin, just a delicate butterfly touch, and he’s already pulling away.
That’s it? No, that can’t be it.
Of their own accord, my lips chase after his, and my arms come up to encircle his neck. I pull him down towards me. And together, our kiss becomes a symphony. There are trills, and he pulls my strings as it builds to a crescendo. I even start to hear violins.
When Zolroth finally pulls me back up to my feet, I realize the violin music is real, because Akor’s pulled up some song on his phone and is blasting it in our direction.
“Knock it off,” Zolroth tells him.
Akor swoops in and steals me away, grabbing me by the hand and yanking me close. “I want another round of kissing practice.”
“Raz hasn’t had a turn yet,” Van argues.
I turn to look at Raz, whose horns are fully extended, curling along the sides of his forehead. For some reason, the sight of his horns and the red of his eyes sends heat spiraling down my stomach until it creates an inferno in my core.
His jaw clenches, and his nostrils flare.
And I want him to grab me and just lose control. I want him to hold me down and just take my mouth with his.
But the words that spill out of his mouth are, “I don’t kiss for practice. When I kiss, it’s the real damn thing.”
Then his hand wraps around my upper arm, and he yanks me to him. His hand digs into my ass, and he hitches one of my legs up and wraps my thigh around his waist. I can feel his erection throb against my stomach. And his red eyes are the last thing I see as he dips his head down, before his lips detonate against mine like an atom bomb.
31
We lose.
Spectacularly.
Honestly, we deserve a trophy just for sucking as badly as we did during the tournament. I’m pretty sure I didn’t get one question right, my attention fixated on my upcoming date with William…and the demons.
The memory of their kisses plays on a continuous loop in my head. The tentative, teasing graze of Van’s lips. Akor’s demanding and possessive kiss. Zolroth’s chaste one.
And then Raz’s angry, claiming one.
More than once, I find myself touching my lips as a timid smile crawls across my face. But before it can blossom completely, I compress my lips into a stubborn line.
