Fireblood (Fireblood 1) - Page 73

“I choose you.”

His head snaps around, eyes blazing. His jaw works as he looks down at me, his form as still as if he’s in shock.

“Remember?” I ask him, my voice trembling. “Nothing he’s done or will ever do can affect me because…I choose you.”

Turning to face me fully, in one swift motion, Devlan captures my face between his palms and crushes his lips to mine.

I stumble back from the impact, but then press against him with equal determination and latch my arms around his neck, grasping his hair as his lips forcefully caress mine. He presses his fingers into my lower back, gripping me to him. Bending his knees, he grasps my thighs and lifts me into his arms. I wrap my legs around his firm waist.

He breaks the kiss, and I gasp for air as his lips move to my neck. He walks us into the chamber, and then lowers me onto the canvas, hovering just above me. His eyes slowly roam over my body, and his hair falls forward into his eyes. I brush it back, how I’ve wanted to do so many times, and he grasps my wrist. He kisses the tender spot on the underside of it, his lips soft and purposeful against my skin.

I loosen the lacing of my dress as his hand caresses my chest along my rib cage, drawing my dress below my shoulders. I bring him to me, threading my fingers into the soft hair above his neck. His lips meet mine, parting them, as his tongue just traces the inside of my mouth.

Heat flares where his body bears down on mine, between my parted legs, and I raise my hips and press against him. He groans against my lips, and my skin prickles at the desperate sound. His hand slips underneath my dress and travels up my thigh until it reaches my leather sheath. He undoes the clasp, and it falls to the floor before he continues roaming farther up. My breaths come in gasps at the feel of his rough skin on mine.

Kissing along my jaw, he works his way higher, and his lips brush my ear. His voice comes low and husky. “I chose you the first moment I saw you.”

The torchlight casts the room into a fevered glow as my eyes meet his. Then the room goes dark as my eyes shut, and I lose myself in his embrace.

TWENTY-EIGHT

As I wake, Devlan wraps his arm around my stomach, pulling my back to his chest. His lips brush the back of my neck, and he tenderly kisses just below my hairline. “Morning.”

My eyes snap open in alarm, and I roll over in his arms to meet his eyes. “Morning?”

His lips twitch into a smile. “Very early morning.” Then his lips touch mine, gently caressing my mouth with a passionate kiss. My chest rises, pressing against his as I inhale deeply, breathing him in. His hand glides along my hip before he pulls away. “I need to get you back.”

I wrap my leg around his hip, halting him and loving the feel of his skin against mine. “Nay.”

He presses his forehead to mine and exhales heavily. His eyes close. “Whatever you wish, I won’t be able to deny you.” His hand slides up the bare skin of my thigh. I shiver. “But I need to take you back now, before I can never let you go again.”

I tense at the thought of not being in his arms, but I know what I have to do. Our mission comes first. My father—everyone is depending on us. I nod against his head. “I’ll get dressed.” I sit up and get to my feet, then glance a

round, searching for my dress.

Devlan puts his hands behind his head and stares up at me. His lips curve into a bright smile, dimples along his cheeks. “But please, do take your time.”

I kick his leg, but smile. “Help me find my most likely mutilated dress, seeing as you couldn’t figure out how to get me out of it.”

He shrugs against the ground, his arms flex. “You said hurry.” He grunts as he sits up and tosses my dress from behind him. “I always do as my princess commands.”

“Devlan,” I warn. “You especially cannot call me that now.”

“Right.” His features mold into a serious expression, but I can still see the trace of a smile lingering. He stands and gathers his clothes.

My lips stretch into an aching smile. I try to hide my face from his as I dress and strap my sheath to my thigh. My mind continually replays the moments with him—his lips on mine, his hands on my body—and heat rushes through me.

All I want is to climb back onto the canvas with him and forget everything that plagues me, but I know I can’t. I have a mission to complete. At the very least, we were together once before we risk our lives. Friday, I could die. We all could. Only, I wish I’d made my feelings for him clear sooner, had admitted them to myself before now.

“Maybe we should wait in the stable for first light,” he says. “You could pass it off as an early ride.”

I look over my rumpled dress. “Yes. I always wear the same gown two days in a row. And torn, at that.” I hold out the split hem.

His brow furrows. “Let’s go, then.”

As I step in front of him, he takes my hand and runs his fingers over the purple skin along my wrist. I look into his pale eyes. “I handled it,” I say. “And I will deal with it today. We have to keep on as if nothing has changed.” I level a look at him. “This is the mission.”

He nods once, his lips a hard line. “He just better pray I calm down before the match on Friday.” He kisses the inside of my wrist, letting his threat linger in the air as we disappear into the tunnel.

Tags: Trisha Wolfe Fireblood Fantasy
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