Page 152 of Death of the Glass Angel
His tongue slid into her mouth, deepening the kiss as he gently pushed her back down. The hand on her hip slipped beneath her nightgown, pushing the fabric above her thigh. His fingers traced across her skin, running up her thigh and the curve of her hip before landing on her stomach.
Des longed for control in every situation, whether on a pedestal or from the shadows. The tiny desire chimed at the back of her mind, drowned beneath the touch of his lips, the taste of his tongue, and the way her body shuddered beneath his touch as he brushed the swell of her breasts.
The bun at the nape of her neck came unwound, spilling black strands across the pillow. Talon’s mouth departed her lips and traced down her neck as he cupped her chin, fingers trailing down her jawline and across her collarbone before unlacing the bust of her dress.
A longing gasp escaped her as he reached her breasts and gently bit her nipple. Pushing her nightgown out of the way, his fingers slowly,agonizinglyslowly, danced beneath her undergarments, brushing across her but never entering.
In her imagination, Des had presumed she would seduce a man by teasing him relentlessly until he fell to his knees and begged. Tomorrow, she would be ashamed of herself.
Pushing Talon’s hand aside, Des reached for his trousers, intent on ripping them off. The look of triumph in his eye would haunt her for days to come.
A heavy knock sounded at the door. “Janus! Get up. The ball’s tonight and we have much to do.” Raja called.
Talon pulled back. “Shit.” He hissed. “I’ll be flayed alive if they catch me here.” His eyes traced over her nearly naked body, committing it to memory.
“So will I,” Des breathed, heat pulsing in he core as she pulled her nightgown up. “Talon.” She called as he scrambled off the bed and grabbed his coat.
He paused, one hand on the window latch. “My lady?”
“I—you. . .” she stumbled over her words. “The story. You’ve never told me. . .”
A horrible, winning smile spread across his face. “I madeyouspeechless?” His face grew serious. “It’s a tale from a life left behind. It might as well not exist.”
“But-”
“Save me a dance at the ball.” He winked and slipped outside.
Defeated, Des fell back on her bed. Countless emotions rushed through her, longing and disappointment chief among them.
The door flew open as Raja angrily stormed in, and Des held back the insult she wanted to fling.
The anger quickly diminished to sorrow. Talon was a songbird, not a noble or farm boy. Their paths would divert after the ball.
The certainty of their parting struck her for the first time.
Janus clung to the past, unable to say goodbye. And Des? She had never bid farewell before.She didn’t know how.
38
Des
Take the boy in if you must, but do not grow attached to him. He will die before the end. By your own hand. If fate reveals itself to you alone, then you can see the Final Day approaching.
-Letter from Gemellus Instigo to Alfaris
Des smoothed the silk of her black gown, absorbing the tension hanging heavy over the ballroom.
One final dance. But now everyone stood on a knife’s edge, watching each other warily.
Assassins in the dark. Strange creatures of unworkable metal. The spirits of the dead. The evoker responsible had been caught, but would that mark the end?
Before, the grand chamber had been chaotic—people scattered everywhere in enormous groups. Now, they clung to their tables, surrounded only by their family and guards.
A man in a dark suit departed the bar, a wine glass held lazily between his fingers. Gemellus took a heavy sip as he joined Des, brushing a loose strand of blonde hair from his face.
“Lovely party.” He said quietly. “And you, without a date.”
“I hear he’s lying low these days,” Des whispered back.
