Page 47 of Prince of the Sun

“What did you do?” I whisper.

“We fled to a network of caves and tunnels, the entrance to which we blocked off using protective magic.” He withdrawshis hand from the back of the futon. Balls it into a fist. “From there, we tried everything.Everything.We called upon the gods, forged every manner of tool or weapon we could think of. Repeatedly, we tried to access our magic, made tinctures or performed old rituals we hoped might connect us to it again. Nothing helped. To this day, the planet remains cloaked in night.”

“So, the elves came to Earth as refugees?” I tilt my head. “But that makes no sense. Your father has always said you don’t plan to stay forever.”

“We don’t.” At this, the first hint of a smile returns to his face. He releases his clenched fist, letting it fall onto the bare skin of my thigh. Warm jolts of electricity slither up my leg, into my torso, deep into my pelvis. “There is a way to return the darkness to Shadowfell.”

“How?” I shift my weight, scooting closer to Daerios. “That’s what you’re looking for, isn’t it? The way to beat back the darkness?”

“That, my darling Quinn, is a story for another time.”

“Oh, come on!” I whack his shoulder. “You can’t do that! You have me on the edge of my seat here.”

“I can see that.” He looks down at my bare thigh, which is now pressed impossibly close to his. My breath hitches. Daerios seems to have gone utterly still. I become painfully aware of just how close we are. How my breath ripples the delicate waves of his hair. How his hand need only climb a few inches higher—

When his eyes rise to meet mine again, they’ve changed. Darkened. Their silver has become that river of steel again, the current of which seems to wrap around me, to cover me from head to toe. I’m trapped in his eyes. I can hardly breathe. I don’twantto breathe, because if I do, it might break the spell of this moment, of Daerios and me, too close, far too close—

Just as I think he’s about the close the distance between us,he lets go of my thigh and turns away. I stifle a gasp as air rushes against the place his hand used to be.

Shit. That waswaytoo close.

I glance about the room, frantically searching for a change of subject. My eyes fall on the pink box.

“Donuts!” I exclaim too loudly.

“Yes.” Amusement tugs at the corners of Daerios’s mouth. “That is what those are.”

I flip open the lid and select a vanilla cruller. I lift it to my lips and take a big bite. Then another. I chew exaggeratedly. “Mmm.”

His lips twitch.

I polish off the cruller in two more bites, then lick my fingertips one by one. I’m about to dive back in for another donut when Daerios reaches out and catches my wrist. He stares at my fingers. The ones that were just in my mouth. A small dusting of wet powdered sugar still coats my skin. His eyes move to meet mine, and he draws my hand closer to his face. Then, without taking his eyes off mine, he opens his mouth and brings my fingers inside. He closes his thick lips around them, wrapping his tongue around their bottoms to suck the leftover sugar off my skin. His sculpted cheekbones hollow as he drags my fingers back out of his mouth.

Oh. My. God.

For a breath, neither of us speaks. My stomach is on fire. My wholebodyis on fire. I feel like I’m either about to melt or explode.

In the end, it can’t be helped. It can’t be stopped. I do the very last thing I should.

I lean forward and kiss him.

Daerios freezes against my lips. For a moment, I think I’ve made a very big mistake. That I pushed this too far. But then his shock passes, and he leans into the kiss with such force, suchwant, that I have to grab his neck with both hands to stay steady.

One of his arms wraps around my waist, the other hand fisting my curls. I would expect an elf to be light, delicate in their desire. Daerios is anything but. His lips search mine, testing, teasing them open with his tongue. He tastes like powdered sugar, like honey cakes, like everything I have denied myself for so long. This isn’t my first kiss, but it feels as if it should be.

I pull back. We stare at each other, breath dragging in and out of our lungs.

“Do that again,” he whispers, voice ragged.

That’s all it takes. I climb up the futon, throwing one leg over his lap and straddling him. I crush my lips to his and snake my fingers through his hair. I have never kissed like this before. Never with such fire, suchneed. Heat flames within me. It builds in my pelvis, swelling to an achy knot I know only he can undo.

I grind hard onto his lap. He gasps, his arousal pressing up against me through his sweatpants. Fuck, he’ssohard. His hands snake down my body, caressing my backside. They slip up my loose shorts, long fingers cradling my ass and pulling me closer. I grind into him over and over. I ride him as if I have no shorts on, as if we’re wearing nothing at all. Iwantto be wearing nothing at all. He groans, low and tortured. It almost makes me angry, how much I want to feel him inside me.

He kisses hungrily down my neck. I tilt my head back, giving him as much skin as I can. I have no idea what’s happening to me. I’m nineteen, and I’ve never felt anything like this, the gnarls and twists turning my insides to a crooked forest. I didn’t think I was even capable of sexual desire, but this far surpasses that. I’mdesperatefor him.

Just when I think the heat can build no further, that I cannot press deeper to him, Daerios pulls back. He’s panting. “Quinn—”

“Shut up,” I growl. I nudge aside his chin, wrapping my teeth around the bottom of his earlobe and biting softly, a move that drags an involuntary groan out of him.