Sophia let him jerk her close, harsh and unyielding in his need for her. A laugh escaped her throat as he bent his head and nuzzled his stubbly jaw into the sensitive skin at her throat. Winding her arms around his neck, she threaded her fingers into the hair at the base of his skull and tugged gently, forcing his head up so she could look at him. Instead, he pressed his forehead against hers, gulping in large breaths of air, his eyes tightly shut as though he was in pain.
“I thought you’d never arrive,” he whispered, his words harsh enough to shatter glass yet soft enough to rub over her skin like a caress.
She touched her mouth to his quickly and tried to pull her head back so she could talk to him, but his fingers threaded through hers, locking her in his grasp with her arms behind her back as his lips chased hers in her retreat.
“You knew I would come for Ronald,” she said against his lips. But it was nearly impossible to think with him kissing her in such a manner, much less speak.
Suddenly, he jerked his head back from her. “Tell me you’re not here just for Ronald,” he growled, looking at her face as though he’d never seen her before.
Sophia forced herself to take a deep breath before she said, “No. I’m here for us, too.”
“For how long?” he ground out. His breaths heaved from him in huge, gasping bursts.
“For tonight.” It nearly broke her heart to say it. But it must be said.
“I’ll have tonight to change your mind,” he whispered, almost reverently.
“You can try,” was all she could offer.
He laughed softly, raising her hands to put them back around his neck, and then his fingertips slid down her arms until she was caught within his grasp, her belly against the hardness of him. “Oh, dear,” she whispered, unable to say more.
“I need you,” he said, raising trembling fingers to brush her hair back from her face, tucking it behind her ear. His eyes lingered on the pointy tip of her ear. He stopped short and stared at it.
“This is the first time you’ve noticed it.” She tilted her head to look at him, watching for his reaction as he studied her ear. “It’s always been like that.”
“How could I have missed seeing that?”
“You were more concerned with other parts of my body?” she asked, feeling particularly wicked.
“What else do you have?” he suddenly blurted out.
“Beg your pardon?”
“What else marks you as… what are you, exactly?”
“I doubt you want to know all the details.” She tried to laugh, but it was nearly impossible.
“I want to know everything about you,” he said, his lips touching hers again, softly this time.
“I am fae,” she said, taking a deep breath to bolster herself. She disentangled herself from his arms and stepped back from him. “I can’t think when you touch me like that,” she admitted. He nodded and crossed to the sideboard to pour himself a drink.
“Would you like one?” he asked and then raised his glass to his lips for a quick swallow. She nodded and stepped toward him, but before he could pour a glass for her, she took his from his hand and raised it to her own lips. He made a noise in his throat when her lips touched the place where his had been.
“Thank you,” she said, passing it back. The liquor
traced a fiery path down her throat, nearly stealing her breath. He raised it back to his own mouth and took a swallow, regarding her over the rim of the glass as he drained it dry.
“Where is the land of the fae?” he asked.
“Somewhere you’ve never heard of.”
“Again with the cryptic comments?” he groaned as he dropped into an overstuffed chair. He crooked a finger at her, and she went without even deciding to do so. He tugged her so that he could lace his fingers with hers. “Don’t lie to me, Sophie. I deserve more than that.”
“You saw what I did in the village.”
“I’m not certain what I saw,” he said, laying his head back against the chair to regard her from beneath heavy-lidded lashes. He pulled her down to sit on his lap and jostled her lightly with a bump of his knees. “Explain it to me.”
She brushed a wayward lock of hair from his forehead. “Please know that it’s forbidden.”