Frost (Frost and Nectar #1)(59)

aware of a hollow, aching loneliness. Was he dancing the same way with someone else now? Truly, it was hard not to wonder.

But I’d sworn off men, hadn’t I? It was why I was “the chosen one” here.

The sound of footfalls behind me made my heart race, and it occurred to me that walking back to my chamber alone might not have been the best idea with an assassin on the loose. I heard the other person’s pace increase, and I turned, ready to fight.

But when I whirled around, I found Torin behind me, hands in his pockets. He wasn’t smiling anymore. “You shouldn’t be walking around here on your own, Ava. Not when someone tried to kill you.”

I heaved a breath. “Sorry. I was trying to sneak out.”

A smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “Why?”

Did he want me to admit I’d felt the tiniest twinge of jealousy? Because I wasn’t about to. I shrugged. “I was bored.”

He pressed me against the wall, placing his hands on either side of my head. With the look he was giving me, I felt like he was taking me apart, examining every inch of my soul. “You’re really not what I expected.”

I licked my lips, and his eyes caught the movement, lingering on my mouth.

“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” I asked.

“Both.”

“That’s certainly confusing.”

He lifted a hand to trace his fingertips over my collarbone. My body sparked at the light contact.

“Tell me again how much you hate me.”

My pulse quickened. “Is this your kink?”

“Something like that.”

In the dim torchlight, I could see clearly how sharp his cheekbones were, how perfect his lips...

So why not play along? A perfect rebound. “You’re arrogant and desperate to give off the impression that you’re in control, all so you can cover up the truth.”

He arched an eyebrow, his hand sliding around the back of my neck. His thumb brushed the skin of my throat, his eyes burning bright. “And what truth would that be?” he whispered.

“That you’re terrified of your own emotions, so you won’t let anyone close.”

A slow, seductive smile curled his lips. “It sounds like a state you understand well. One idiot broke your heart, and you swore off love forever.”

“You are an irredeemable snob who believes you deserve power because of an accident of birth.”

I stroked my hands over his glorious chest as I spoke, reveling in the feel of his steely muscles, eliciting a quiet growl from him.

“We would be a match made in hell,” he purred, staring at my lips. “Your family lacks a noble lineage, a truth betrayed by your untrained manners at every opportunity.”

I reached up and touched his face. “And you’re stupid enough to think that matters, aren’t you, Your Majesty?”

His knee nestled between my thighs, pinning me in place. “I’m not someone anyone should fall for, understood?”

My neck arched, my body going taut, ready to give in to him. “Loud and clear.”

“But I can’t seem to stop thinking about you and the way your body feels against mine,” he murmured. “Just one kiss, Ava. I want more, of course. I want to take my time with you, to explore all of you. But I can’t have that, because none of this can be real. So, just one kiss.”

It was almost a question, and I nodded, my lips parting.

At last, he captured my mouth with his, and I tasted the sweet, fruity tang of Faerie wine on his lips. It was a gentle kiss at first, until he tilted his head and his tongue swept in. Heat radiated through me as the kiss deepened, his tongue flitting against mine in a sensual caress.

My body was igniting like wildfire, my core going tight and loose at the same time. Aching for him.

One of his hands stroked down my body—my shoulder, the curve of my breast, my waist. I was desperate for him to caress me all over, and I let out a light moan. His hands moved further down my hips and into the slit of my dress. He reached around the curve of my upper thigh, and lifting my leg around him, he pressed into the apex of my thighs. Gripping me, he moved his hips against me, and I arched into him.

He pulled away from the kiss, letting out a hiss of breath. But he was still clinging to my thigh— one hand pressed against the wall, the other on me. “Have I told you how much I love the way you smell, Ava?”

I threaded my fingers into his dark hair. “Shh. We’re not doing compliments.”

He’d said just one kiss, but that was a lie. The King of Faerie claimed my mouth again. My hips moved against him, and the quiet rumbling in his chest made my breasts go tight.

I could feel his hardness straining against me, and his kiss had grown frenzied, desperate.

We were tasting each other, and the pleasure of this kiss had swept all rational thought from my mind like a winter wind. But it wasn’t enough. The ache between my thighs demanded more.

He caught my lower lip between his as he pulled away, ending the kiss. His fingers were threaded in my hair, and he seemed reluctant to let go. Catching his breath, he rested his forehead against mine.

My lips felt deliciously swollen.

“We are a match made in hell, but I have never wanted anyone more, Ava Jones,” he rasped.

Meeting my gaze one last time, he stepped back. “I’m sending guards to your room, immediately. I won’t have anything happen to you.”