Page 74 of Fate's Sweetest Curse
I choked on another moan, stilling under his touch. My heart was beating wildly, frantically, like a bird trapped on the wrong side of a window, desperate to fly free. What was he evensayingto me right now?
Everything I’d ever wanted.
“You sure hid it well,” I joked shakily, but it wasn’t very funny.
“I see you,” Noble went on, undeterred, “and I feel full and warm, and the world around me appears brighter and more colorful.” He pressed the statement against my shoulder with a kiss. “You are a sunrise.” Kiss. “You are a rich meal.” Kiss. “You are river water evaporating off my skin on a hot summer’s day. You are the summer itself. You are—”
I couldn’t take it anymore. I turned in his hold, gripped the back of his head with both hands, and brought Noble’s mouth to mine.
27
Taste
Hattie
He tasted like dew on mint leaves. Like hushed conversation, or laughter on a shaded riverbank. Fresh as mist rising off a perilously high waterfall. Nectar-sweet as a summertime orchard. His flavor was stronger than any potion; he tasted like hewantedme, heady with unbidden desire.
With his tongue sliding against mine, my whole body was flooded with sensation. I felt weak, weightless, buoyant. Over the years, I had imagined what kissing him might’ve felt like. I’d clung to the quick peck we’d shared as kids on Raina’s dare, conjuring up that fleeting taste in my mind and imagining his flavor in excess, his touch strong, passionate, claiming.
But not likethis.
Never like this.
Thiswent beyond my paltry imagining.
Kissing Noble was a full-body experience of hands squeezing, arms tugging, soft groans, and slippery sounds. He cupped my jaw, tilting my headjust sowhile he licked and sucked, his kiss both filthy and adoring. Reverent and wild. His other hand gripped my waist with a pressure that bordered on pain, hard enough that I knew it would leave a mark. I had the sense that hewantedto leave a mark, as proof that this happened. I wanted that, too.
Afraid I might wake up at any moment from the best dream of my life, I threaded my fingers in his soft waves, clawed at his shoulders, pressed asmuch of myself against his frame as I could, until I was crawling up his body into his arms. He clutched my thighs as I wrapped my legs around his waist. He returned to kissing my neck, my throat, my collarbones. Then he hoisted me higher in his arms so he could slide his teeth across the top of my dress.
“Fates,” I breathed appreciatively, tipping my head back. My whole body felt stretched taut.
“Have I made myself clear?” Noble asked against my cleavage.
“Abundantly,” I gasped.
He paused, green eyes finding mine. His pupils were blown wide, his gaze black with need. When he smiled, it was open and boyish.Real. His hair was tousled from my fingers threading through it, with strands sticking out at odd angles.
I laughed.
He laughed.
Then the moment popped like a soap bubble. His palms shifted on my thighs, allowing me to slide down his body in a long, slow scrape. When my feet hit the ground, I wobbled, dizzy from what we’d just done; his palms lingered on my waist, waiting for me to find my balance before falling away.
Without his hands on me, I felt cold and unsteady. Noble flexed his fingers at his sides: open, closed, open. The veins in his forearms were overly pronounced, dark. His chest rose and fell with panted breaths.
I knew what he was going to say before he said it: “We can’t.”
“Can’t—or shouldn’t?”
“Both.”
“You really think it matters, after all this time?”
His frown—genuine, unguarded, a little wry—was devastating. “Yes,princess.”
I scoffed, even as an ancient wellspring of emotion flooded my chest. “I amnota princess, and you know it.”
Noble tipped his head. Kind, but frank. “Heiress, then.”
