Two girls. Two secrets.
Only one can survive.
Years before Nelle Wychthorn plans her escape, Tabitha Catt may unearth something in a Horned God's lair that is the key to freedom.
Desperate to save her beloved aunt from a dark curse, Tabitha is out t...
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Varen had wound me tight like a pretty ballerina, a brass key in my back. He'd turned and turned and turned until the spring clicked and loaded, and he'd set my toes upon polished wood, keyed up on the edge of a climax, about to let me go. So I'd pirouette and spin and spin and spin.
I was in charge now.
If anyone was going to pounce, it was going to be me. If anyone should be doing the winding, I was the one who was going to be doing it.
He leaned forward, the movement pushing his whole hand against my breast. I sucked in a breath, my eyelashes fluttering like delicate butterfly wings at the zinging contact. Exquisite sensation rushed outward, plucking at my nerve endings like fingers plucking harp strings. I bit down hard on my lower lip when his roughened hand pinched my nipple between his thumb and finger. A bolt of sizzling lust arched from my nipple to my sex. He groaned himself, briefly squeezing his eyes shut, a low curse falling from his mouth.
Holy hells... Never in my wildest dreams had I imagined how intense it would be to share myself with a boy, swept away by the chaotic sensations running rampant through my entire body, from simply touching me. Except Varen wasn't a boy. He was all man. A spark of anticipation heated between my legs. Arousal was a violent undertow, threatening to pull me into dark pleasure, especially with the way his erection throbbed against my stomach. Hard. Hot. Demanding.
His free hand clamped around my waist, and I carefully rose up on my tip toes. He met me halfway, bowing his head. Black hair slid over his forehead, charmingly disarrayed, almost giving him a boyish look. Both of our mouths angled toward the other, hot breath mingling, but before we met I asked, "Would you lower your lips to my breasts or dip down even further to taste the slick flesh between my thighs?"
"Fuck, Tabitha," he moaned, raw and rough. His breath vibrated against my lips and my heart faltered with excitement to realize I could make this man moan.
"Maybe you'd want me to taste you first." I nudged my eyebrows together as if I were unsure, twisting my lips in a perplexed line. I sighed, briefly glancing away toward the shelves holding crystal-cut decanters. "There's only my mouth that would be free."
His hand brushing over my breast stilled. The fingers curled around my waist bit harder. The subtle storm in the air thickened and pulsed in time with his swelling erection digging into my stomach. Aether charged on almost indiscernible currents of wind, crackling and sparking against my bare skin as if I held a firecracker too close to my body.
I couldn't believe what I was doing. But I couldn't stop myself either. The power I held over him was intoxicating and it strummed sinfully through my veins, between my legs, stiffening my nipples harder. I held him in thrall, torturing him with every glance beneath fluttering eyelashes, every fleeting nuance dancing across my features. The cadence of my speech spun a fantasy through words alone.
Bringing my gaze back to his, I met eyes gone velvet-dark that stared at my mouth. His breathtaking features were sharpened with a mixture of pain and astonishment. I wound my hand around the nape of his neck, the crisp line of his short hair prickling my fingers as I lightly urged him down and closer. His breath came faster, and his thumb swept across my nipple, back and forth, endlessly patient.
