“Admittedly, that’s worse than I thought it wa—” Kai tips forward and sweeps his tongue down my raw wound in a warm, wet caress. “Whatare you doing?”
All the blood in my body seems to rush to my cheeks.
“You’re licking me. You’re licking my cut.”
He makes this amused, muffled sound, continuing to paint my hurt with long, precise swipes. By the time he pulls back, my cheeks are aflame, though all that heat swiftly drains away as both sides of the laceration knit together, leaving a pale pink line.
I stare at it, mouth full of words and no breath to speak them.
My surprise ebbs when I glance up and see the way he’s looking at me—brow creased while he smacks his tongue against the top of his mouth.
“What?”
He shakes his head, swallowing. “You taste weird.”
“That’s not a very nice thing to say! I bet you don’t taste great either,” I chastise, tossing a scoop of water at him. “Andby the way,now that I know you can lick my wounds away, I’ll be down here every time I get a paper cut, stuffing my finger in your mouth.”
I can’t believe he didn’t tell me this sooner.
A smirk softens the sharpness of his bladed cheekbones. “Stuff your finger in my mouth whenever you like, but starting a water fight withme?Orlaith, that was terribly unwise.”
He rises out of the ocean one foreboding inch at a time, revealing the long, powerful slant of his sun-kissed muscles. My mouth pops open, head tipping back, eyes widening as toffee skin gives way to the round, steely scales of his mighty tail.
Shit.
I scuttle back like a crab seeking shelter. “No, Kai ... no.No!Don’t you dare, you big, slipperyhellion—”
His arm sweeps out, and he whips me against his cold, wet chest, then dunks us both into the brisk sea.
The bastard.
Ipurposely drum my footfalls down the hallway while wringing out my hair, mulling over all the creative ways I can spike an apple with enough senna to leave a fourteen-foot Ocean Drake shitting undigested seaweed for a week.
Rounding a corner, I almost charge into Rhordyn planted like a boulder in my path, and I squeal, stumbling back.
His swift hand weaves around me before I lose my footing, and I peep up through the wet mess of my unbridled hair, instantly flayed by argent eyes.
My thoughts turn to smoke.
And just when I thought this day couldn’t kick my ass anymore.
I pull a breath, almost choking on air heavy with the smell of leather and a frosty morning. It sifts through my lungs and infuses my bloodstream, kicking my pulse into a churning rhythm that can’t be healthy.
He’s chillingly beautiful, otherworldly in stature. Just the sight of him has a crippling effect on my ability to function properly, and I hate it.
I hate it so damn much.
Rhordyn’s head cants to the side, and a midnight brow lifts, but his hand stays firmly locked between my shoulder blades while he punishes me with his silence.
Something deep inside screams for me torun.
Not that I ever listen.
A breath puffs out of me, and his chest inflates as I glide back a step—that hand falling away and leaving a chilled stamp of skin in its place.
Despite the height he lords over me, I hold his austere gaze, refusing to drop my chin or show even the slightest hint of submission. He may be well over six feet of sculpted, virile poise, but my rioting nerves can go to hell.
“Orlaith.” His voice is a velvet purr that blows up my heart rate.
