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“I want to see him.”
“Tomorrow. I’ll arrange for you and Riot to visit the village,” Bash says without protest. “He’ll take you by horse and to your friend instead. You have Riot for as long as you need. Get your friend settled and then decide.”
“Decide what?”
“If you’ll come back to me.” Bash cups my cheeks, his touch tender yet filled with a silent plea. “I need you at my side, little bird, but I won’t make you stay.”
Just like the night we first met in the woods, I can’t explain theneed that comes over me. It’s all-consuming, overshadowing the heaviness of our conversation and replacing it with a single thought.
I need to know what his lips taste like.
I grab Bash’s shirt and pull him to me. He welcomes my lips, parting his and enveloping me with a kiss that sends a vibration through my body, down to my toes. He guides us into the room and then kicks the door closed before effortlessly taking me to my bed.
Bash lays me down, his hand deep within the tangles of my hair, gripping my roots. I claw at his back, pulling up his shirt, the insatiable need to touch him incinerating my every thought. Bash’s lips kiss down my jaw, to my neck, and then the pillowtop of my breast. He bites me, not hard enough to draw blood, and I arch my back in pleasure. The haze of lust is heavy, like a spider’s web falling over me, the silk trapping me in a beautiful death.
The sensation slithers down my spine until my magic burns those cords and I snap out of the trance. Lust’s fingers have a hold of my body. I feel them pulling me like a puppet and watch my hands reach for Bash’s belt buckle. I let my power radiate and incinerate my vices, then push Bash off of me. “Stop.”
He arches upward, his near-white eyes narrowed in confusion. “What’s wrong?”
“I don’t want to do this. Please leave.”
Bash sits up, his breath coming in short bursts, and refastens the belt buckle. “Did I do something wrong?”
I hug my arms tight to my chest and shake my head. The need is still there. The ache grows more pressing each second. Bash’s hands aren’t on my body. “I did.” I grab his shirt and hold it out, careful not to let his skin touch mine. If it does, I might not be able to control myself again. The hold on my restraint isn’t strong. I won’t last much longer.
Bash doesn’t say anything. He leaves, his head low as he walks out the door. I squeeze my eyes shut and force myself to stay put until a reasonable amount of time has passed where I don’t think Bash could be in the halls, then whip my door open and order, “Find Riot.”
Greg stares at me, his green eyes wide. “I’m not supposed to leave your door unprotected.”
“I swear to the stars above, Greg, if you don’t bring Riot here right now, you’re going to find out why people fear redheads.”
He sucks in a breath and nods. “Yes, ma’am.”
I slam the door shut, the sensation of hands and tiny spiders crawling all over my body intensifying. The magic within me is desperate, prying, scratching, urging me to go out the door and find anyone to latch onto but I refuse. I might not have a choice in what is happening to my body, but I can choose who I give in to.
Riot barges into the room, his chest heaving as if he’d run across the castle and up the stairs. “What’s wrong?”
“Shut the door,” I demand, pacing the room while chewing on my thumbnail. Movement helps curve the urge to climb onto someone like a cat in heat, but it doesn’t alleviate the ache.
Riot stops me in the center of the room, his hands gingerly cupping my arms. “Khiara?”
I feel it again, the burning desire of lust begging for human touch. Only this time, instead of Ezra’s love spell wrapping icy strings around my body, the magic is warm, mixing with mine in an embarrassingly pleasurable concoction. “I need you to kiss me.”
“What?” His big green eyes widen as he shakes his head. “No.”
“Riot, please! Ezra’s curse is still in my system, and I almost…” I swallow hard and look away, unable to meet his gaze. “It almost took my choice from me with Sebastian. It’s going to make me… I don’t…” I struggle to find the right words without making the request sound terrible or burdensome. It is a burden but at the same time, maybe I want it a little bit too. "If I'm going to give myself away with the push of a love spell, then I want it to be my choice who I give myself to."
“No.”
I run my fingers through my hair, frustratedly pulling up the roots. “Why not? I know how you feel about me.”
He huffs an impatient breath. “You know nothing.”
“I do, actually. I know that you’re worried right now and intrigued. I know you’re fighting your excitement and I know that you want to take me but you’re scared.”
“How can you possibly know any of that?” he asks, genuinely shocked.
“Because you’re right, I can do more than just make fire and heal myself,” I admit, throwing my hands up in resignation. “I told you I can sense people, and for some reason, I canreallysense you. I can’t read your mind or anything, but I can feel your emotions sometimes.”
