Mask of Poison (Fall of Under Book 1) by Kathryn Kingsley (great novels to read txt) 📕

eyes. They flickered with curiosity, hunger, and…she struggled to name the last expression. Then she realized what it was. Agony.

He must be beautiful when he’s not in pain.

The thought caught her just as much by surprise as seeing his face. She forced it away. “H—help me?” She managed to gasp out her words, sounding as small and frightened as she felt.

He stepped into her, pressing the length of his thigh against hers, pinning her to the railing. She shivered at the feeling of his hand against her throat as it wandered into her hair. “I love your hair color…half black, half white. Half light, half dark. Half life…and half death.” He smiled.

“Thank you,” she managed to say without stammering. Barely. “P—please let me go.”

He ignored her plea. “You’re welcome.” He leaned his head closer to her. She leaned back, trying to put more distance between them. Falling to her death, surrounded by drengil, might honestly be easier. She glanced down over her shoulder at them warily.

“Oh, don’t worry about my friends. I’ve given them strict orders not to hurt you.” He smiled warmly again, his breath washing over her cheek. “When Aon ripped my heart out, they were just trying to protect you.”

“Protect me…? But—but why?”

“Why, you’re my little dove, naturally.” His hand tightened in her hair, and she pulled in a gasp. He carefully tilted her head back, exposing her throat to him. Those yellow eyes of his flicked down, and he tsked quietly. “Aon…always making a mess of things.” He leaned down.

She gasped again, jolting in shock as his tongue touched her throat, slowly dragging along her skin. She realized what he was doing. He’s licking up the blood.

When he dragged his tongue along another trail of blood that ran down her neck, she was shivering. She didn’t know what to say. She didn’t know what to do.

She didn’t know how to handle the fact that it felt like she was ablaze and yet thrown into a frozen lake at the same time. Her fingers tangled in the bandages he wore. Was she pushing him away? Or was she clinging to him for dear life?

She didn’t know.

“Please, stop—”

“I know…I know.” He lifted his head to meet her gaze. His yellow eyes were lidded, and there was a glimmer of passion in them. The sight of it felt like someone had dropped a rock into her stomach. It fell like a brick down a well. His other hand slid gingerly along her jaw, his fingertips barely ghosting against her skin. Goosebumps rushed over her.

“You’re terrified. I understand.” His eyes flicked between hers as he took her in, his voice dropping to a whisper. “But look at you. Just look at you.” The long, sharp nail of his thumb ran along the line of her lower lip. “How can I resist this? Trembling in my arms, so frightened, but so excited?” The hand against her lip wandered down the front of her neck before grasping the hem of the black coat Aon had given her. He pulled it aside and lowered his head to her throat once more. “To say nothing of how you taste.”

But this time, he drifted lower. She let out a choked squeak as his tongue ran along her collarbone and then down, chasing a line of blood that must have run underneath the hem of her shirt. “N—no—”

“Oh, all right.” He chuckled against her as he straightened back up. “Ruin all my fun, why don’t you.” His voice was husky and thick. He was too close. She could smell him—the tangy scent of blood, and something else she couldn’t put her finger on. He was warm against her.

“I don’t want to die,” she whispered.

“You’re safe with me now, little dove. I promise.” He kissed her throat over her pulse. Slowly. Savoring her. He kept a hand tangled in her hair, cradling her head as his other arm slipped around her.

It was the embrace of a lover.

Heat flooded her cheeks. She had wanted to deny she was trembling. She wanted to scream at him. Kick him. Shout at him. But none of it happened. She was locked up. Frozen solid like a deer in a hunter’s sights.

And somehow that made it all the more intense.

He grazed his teeth along her skin, and her eyes slipped shut. He was going to tear out her throat. I don’t want to die. I don’t want to die!

But all her mental protests were futile the moment he began to let out that strange, inhuman purr. That deep, resonant sound that started in his chest. There was something hypnotic about it. Something that wanted to pull her in, pull her against him, and whisper that it was all going to be all right.

She tried to fight it. But like the undertow of a current, she was helpless.

Still, he was kissing her throat. Again, and again, gently, carefully, growing bolder with each embrace. Now and then he would nip at her skin, making her jolt in surprise and fear. He didn’t sink the fangs that she could feel pricking at her into her throat. But he didn’t stop, either.

When had her shoulders relaxed? When did she stop twitching each time she felt his fangs? When did her hands stop pushing him away, but were instead clinging on to his chest and shoulder?

When had she started to tilt her head willingly away to give him more room to kiss her?

Her lips were parted, and the air around her felt hot. The thumb of the hand in her hair was slowly running circles against her scalp, lulling her further into the warm sensations he was drawing from her.

He kissed his way up to her ear. “Good, little dove,” he whispered through the purr. “That’s it…you’re safe. Don’t fight it. Do you want more?”

She couldn’t speak.

She could only nod once.

“I won’t hurt you. I’m just going to drink you, that’s all…just a little.” He pressed his lips to her cheek at the corner of her mouth.