Page 118 of Three Dark Kings and the Gilded Serpent

The press of her lips is languid, her eyes bright. As if we could stay like this forever and no harm would come of it.

“Try,” she says.

My free arm rises, incremental inches as I imagine pressing my palm to the small of her back, trailing my fingers along the curve of her waist and out to her hip, wrapping my hand around the back of her thigh, drawing her leg up beside me. Fully pressed and gripping her. Not hovering beside her body as my hand is now.

I dare to tilt my head slightly, nudging my nose toward the side of her nose, my lips toward her lips, already so close to me that my head swims with her nearness.

All it will take is one fearless moment of belief…

Slowly, carefully, I brush my lips to hers. The smallest, briefest contact.

Barely a kiss.

Her lips part softly as her hand tightens on mine. A soft moan washes across my mouth. Her moan. Fucking overwhelming.

Goddess help me, I want more.

I want all of her.

I crash against her, fully claiming her mouth, desire flooding my body as I drink in the taste of her skin. Sweet, honeyed roses.

She gasps, then groans, her free hand rising to the back of my head, her fingers grazing hard as she pulls me closer, her tongue clashing with mine.

Heated desire breaks free of the chains I’ve been wrapping around myself, and then I’m dragging her close, my free hand wrapping around her hip, then the small of her back, then up to her shoulder blades, unable to get enough of her all at once.

Her naked chest presses to mine and all logical thought vanishes.

Need is everything.

A frantic need that threatens to devastate me and drive me to the ground, where I would take her with me, tumble across the sand and let her rail against me if she wished.

Just as I’m about to voice my impulses and ask her what she wants, a spark of light flares close to me on my left.

In that second, I register that Thyra’s blade arm is pressed to my left bicep. At some point, she let go of my hand and now she grips my shoulder.

It’s the first time the Dragonstone Blade has had contact with this part of my body.

Golden energy sparks across my bicep.

Before I can drag a breath into my chest, runes light up all along my arm.

Golden runes. As bright as the energy of a blade vision.

Thyra freezes, her focus snapping to the light, a cry on her lips.

I throw myself back from her as fast as I can, needing to break the contact with her body, my heart pounding.

She lets me go, her eyes wide.

A burn spreads across my chest and golden runes now begin glowing down my other arm. A second row of golden images lighting up one by one.

I stumble farther back from Thyra. “What is this?”

Her chest heaves as hard as mine. Her lips are parted and her cheeks are flushed, her body glowing in the yellow light glimmering around me.

Her perfect curves are fully visible, her beautiful body exposed and her vulnerability intense. “I…”

In my fear, I hunch to the side, snarling, “What are these?”