Page 102 of Fate's Sweetest Curse
Then a different expression passed over his hungry features, clouding his desire and cooling it like tempered steel. He took one of my hands, observing the scraped skin of my palm before planting a kiss in its center.
“Don’t move,” he commanded, leaving me seated on the desk as he went to the small wash basin in the corner.
“What are you doing?”
“I can’t make love to you when you’re bleeding.”
His phrasing made my breath catch. “Oh.”
Noble returned with a damp rag and a bowl of water and lowered to the floor in front of me, sinking back on his heels. Gently, he ran a calloused hand up my leg, dragging the hem of my chemise with it to reveal my scraped knees. His eyes narrowed when he saw the blood, but my mind couldn’t have been farther from my injuries. Seeing the strength and power of him kneeling before me,caringfor me like this…I was on fire.
He cleaned me up slowly, carefully dabbing at the scrapes, rinsing the rag every so often. The wounds were shallow, minor, already coagulated, but Noble was tense as he worked.
“I’m going to kill her for doing this to you,” he grumbled.
“No, you’re not,” I said. “Besides, she just wanted to scare me.”
He shot me a dark look. “Exactly. I won’t allow it.”
I giggled.
“What?”
“I know I shouldn’t encourage it,” I said, “but your overprotectiveness is sexy.”
He set the rag and bowl aside. “Noted.”
Craving his mouth on mine again, I threaded my fingers into his hair. “Are you going to stand back up?”
“I’d rather stay right here.”
He slid his hand over my bunched chemise to trace his thumb over my hip bone. When he planted a kiss on its point, the brief pressure felt like a stone dropped into a lake—sensation rippled outward. He was so close yet so far from where I wanted him, the barrier of my remaining clothing far too constraining. My belly filled with liquid heat again, tensing with desire. It was a mere flutter, but even through the fabric of my chemise, he noticed the movement.
His eyes dragged up my body to my face. “Would you like that?” he asked.
“You don’t have to stay on your knees,” I replied thickly.
“You deserve nothing less than a man on his knees for you,” he said. “But that’s not what I asked.”
“Yes,” I answered breathlessly. “Yes, I would like that.”
“Fates, I love how low your voice gets when you’re turned on.”
Something sweet and slippery spread through my core. I was so,sowet already.
He slid his palms up my calves, over the tender backs of my knees, pushing my hem higher up my thighs—but not high enough. Still seated on the edge of the desk, I swayed, lost to his touch.
“Pretty sure you’re the tease,” I muttered.
“Is that your way of asking for more?”
“Yes,” I breathed, widening my legs.
He dragged a calloused hand up the inside of my thigh. His lips parted with a knowing, unfocused smile when he found my slickness—then his brow furrowed, serious, as he began to touch me. I held onto hisshoulder, fingers digging into the muscle as he toyed with me, drawing a line up and down, circling the place I wanted him most, only to slide away, leaving me aching.
Good. It was sogood, and we hadn’t even made it to the bed yet.
“Noble.”
