The man lying above me stared down at me lovingly, shadows wrapping around the both of us and cocooning us in a bubble of safety.
He smelled of honeysuckle and tasted like sour apples on my tongue.
A shock of ice blonde hair fell atop his forehead as he stared down at me, some uncontrolled longing swirling in the warmth of his eyes that were once so cold, so closed off.
I reached up to brush that hair away, his body shuddering lightly from my touch, as if he felt the reverence within that small action, as if he took whatever he could get from me and worshiped it as if he wouldn't get another chance to place his hands on my skin.
His body warm and solid over mine, he lightly rested his weight atop me and the pressure from him heated the blood inside of me.
There was something in his eyes, some intimate promise that spoke of words he had yet to say aloud.
Something too close to love shone back at me in his eyes. I wondered how mine looked to him.
"Do you have any idea how much I want you right now?"
My back arched upwards into him and his hands moved from their place directly beside my head, snaking around my body until he wrapped them around me and squeezed until the pressure had me closing my eyes of their own accord.
His hold on me was somehow both calming and passionate, swimming in the desire and yearning reflected back to me in his eyes.
Though his face was obscured in shadow, I knew that he would show it to me one day soon.
His shadows writhed and swirled until a tendril of black fog reached out and brushed back a piece of my hair that had fallen in front of my eyes.
Suddenly, everything in the world felt right. Safe. Perfect.
When he leaned down to kiss me, though, the world around us distorted until there was someone banging on the door.
I strained upwards, wrapping my hands around his smooth, decadent skin, but he grabbed my own and pinned them down beside my head.
"Not yet. We'll have time for that later. I'll have you, soon. Just not now."
He leaned down to brush a feather light kiss against my forehead, the scalding tingle of his touch branding me as his when the door to the room flew open and there stood Oren in his beast like form, breathing ragged with drool hanging from his mouth.
"What are you doing? Leave!"
My yell shook the walls of the room around us.
"I can't do that, Princess."
His fingers lengthened into talons.
His mouth widened into a terrifying smile, but when I opened my mouth to scream, nothing came out.
YOU ARE READING
Songbirds & Sirens
FantasyJosephine's voice kills any man who hears it-except for the assassin sent to capture her for the king that's been chasing her all her life...but what happens when he decides he doesn't want to hand her over and keep her for himself instead? ...