Page 84 of Too Hexed to Handle

‘Daisy . . .’ Astin peers at me. ‘You’ve gone pale. What is it?’

My kiss stops hearts. Astin doesn’t have one.

If I told you the truth, you’d have started looking for loopholes.

My kiss stops hearts. Astin doesn’t have one. He’s my loophole. He’s my –

‘You’re mine,’ I whisper. ‘You’re mine.’

He blinks. ‘What?’

‘My kiss kills by stopping someone’s heart. But if you don’t have one . . .’ It’s not possible. It shouldn’t be possible. But a part of me is reawakening, the part that fell silent over the past few days, as it witnessed horror after horror, that says of course it’s possible. And of course it’s him. Because no matter how much darkness there is in the world, there’s always a light to be found if you can find the goodness to strike the match. ‘You’re my loophole.’

Astin’s gaze roams over my face, before dropping to my mouth. His throat bobs. ‘You think I could kiss you and survive?’

‘Maybe,’ I say.

He licks his lips. ‘I shouldn’t.’

‘No, of course not,’ I say, a tad breathily. I’m having trouble looking away from the glimmer of wet his tongue left behind. ‘I might be wrong. Or I could destroy another important organ instead.’

‘Hopefully not too important.’ The corner of his mouth lifts. I’m developing an obsession with it. I may never look away again. His upper lip is plush, perfectly heart-shaped. I want to suck it between my teeth. He clears his throat – probably an attempt to drag my attention to something other than his mouth, but that just diverts my attention to other interesting parts of his body. I could kiss it all. Run my tongue along the faint line of stubble along his chin, his neck, his –

‘I meant,’ Astin clarifies loudly, cupping my chin and forcing me to tear my gaze from his mouth. ‘I meant, because we don’t know if you’re right about me. What if I feel empty forever? What if I’m never able to say those three little words to you?’

‘Then I’ll say them twice over to you,’ I reply. ‘I thought you were dead, Astin. I thought you were dead and my whole world stopped. I don’t want a life without you in it. I don’t need you to say those words because I have enough love for both of us. Just please never get yourself attacked again because I can’t stand it, I can’t lose you, I –’ I shudder. Our gazes remain locked, but there’s a wildness in his I’ve never seen before, a wind rushing through the ocean blue of his eyes until the waves are rippling, storming, rising higher and higher, desperate to crash to shore.

‘We need to be sure it’s safe,’ I finish. ‘We should do . . . research. Yes. We can –’

‘Daisy.’ He leans closer. Our mouths are inches apart. My heart does several somersaults in rapid succession. This is the part where I should move away. Far, far away. Leave the room, even. But his hands are trailing a path up my arms, his nose nudging mine as he moves closer, our lips almost grazing as he whispers, ‘I’ll risk it.’

My gasp of protest is silenced as his mouth presses against mine.

He tastes like he smells: all pine and musk, with an underlying hint of spice that intensifies as the kiss deepens. We’re gentle sparks finally catching alight, every move of his mouth igniting a fresh ember, every sweep of his tongue awakening something that’s slumbered too long. I should be out of practice, a swimmer who hasn’t been in the water for years, but there’s a familiarity to Astin that makes it easy to kick my feet and dive straight in.

My fingers trace over the softness of his shirt, before moving upwards, grazing over a faint cut on his chin where he always nicks himself shaving. My body melts into his embrace, like it’s already memorised every curve, every outline, and has melded itself to fit.

He backs against the bed, tugging me on to his lap. I straddle his hips as he breaks the kiss to press his mouth against the side of my face, peppering kisses down my neck, my shoulders, pushing my blouse aside with his nose, fingers tightening on my waist as he inhales my scent and groans.

The sound tears through my euphoria.

I pull back, eyes wide, assessing him for damage, for a sign that groan was for something beyond pleasure. His mouth is swollen; his shirt is askew. The ends of his hair stick up at strange angles. But he’s breathing. ‘Are you okay?’ I ask. ‘Does anything hurt? Is everything working?’

He pulls me against him, allowing me to feel a part that’s definitely working. ‘All organs present and intact.’

I poke his arm, too giddy and light-headed to put any weight behind my rebuke. ‘I can’t believe you’re joking right now. That was reckless. You could have died.’

‘Would have been worth it.’ His smile is soft, but there’s a heat in his eyes that’s anything but gentle, a simmering want I’m sure is mirrored in my own. He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear before kissing me again, slowly this time, leisurely, like I’m a delicious morsel he wants to savour.

My fingers fumble with the buttons on his shirt, making me huff with impatience when they refuse to come undone fast enough, and he laughs against my mouth as he slides his hand under my blouse.

‘Are you sure about this?’ he murmurs.

‘Unequivocally sure.’

He studies me as though expecting to see reservation there, some sign that what he’s offering isn’t enough, but it is. I don’t care what he thinks he can or can’t feel or say, because his actions have proven time and time again that he cares. He came on this trip to save our home. He returned to me after he found out I was the creature he hated most. He’s here now, instead of chasing after Damian or Eira on some mission of revenge, because he deemed me more important.

Once he’s decided to believe me, his eyes darken. ‘Then take off your clothes and lie on the bed.’