Page 51 of The Ember and the Emerald

Jasher’s sultry grin made a new appearance. He radiated delight. “Now then,” he purred. “Let’s continue our chat.”

15

OFF WE GO

My heart stopped, or sped up, I couldn’t tell which. Couldn’t think properly as realizations collided. Jasher’s strong arms caged my head. His muscled weight pinned me, while his spread wings anchored us in our own little world. Here, now, only we existed.

His intoxicating scent filled my nose. My blood heated. Aches bloomed. One reaction blended into the other, rousing sensitive goose bumps that pulsed with wild things I had no business feeling. A ravenous hunger and frothing need older than my reeling mind could currently fathom.

Those same wild things churned inside him, like calling to like. I should pull away. I knew that. The warning flared, born from the same instinct that had kept me alive this long. He sought my destruction, and he was strong enough to succeed. And yet…

I conformed my body to his. “Jasher,” I groaned.

“Once again, you find yourself at my mercy, princess.” He brushed the tip of his nose against mine. “Whatever shall you do?”

This playful side of him, so like my Jasher, sent me spinning. “Oh, you have mercy now, do you?” The raspiness of my voice sparked a widespread blush. But back off? No. “You pretended to be in pain to lure me over. I call foul.”

“No, darling. There was no pretending. I merely unbottled the pain I feel every day, as I hold the monster at bay.” He smiled a little, smoldered a lot. “But yes, I did use it to lure you over.”

He didn’t lie about it. That mattered. If he had, I might have rallied the strength to walk away.

I stroked my fingertips over his cheek. “I hate that you hurt.”

“Kiss me and make it better.” He nuzzled into my touch. “You want to—you want me.”

I did want him. More than I could articulate. But… “You threatened to kill me. Repeatedly.”

“A misunderstanding.”

Ha. “Kissing you would be foolish.”

“Ah, but when given the chance to follow through with my threats, I protected you instead. Did I not?” he asked, the edge of each word frayed. “Actions trump words, always.”

Maybe. Warmth uncoiled in the center of my chest. “You think you deserve a reward, hmm?”

“Deserve? No. Crave?” His gaze dropped to my mouth. “Yes.”

Resist. But I traced his biceps, then his shoulders, then toyed with the ends of his silken hair. Tracing him. Learning him again. “You won’t win me to Ian’s side, Jasher.” Assurance seeped into my tone. “He arranged my mother’s assassination—I’m certain it was him—and he intends to kill my father.”

“I know,” he admitted. The barest hint of vulnerability flickered over his expression. “Everything is a jumbled mess inside my head, but not that.” Gaze still on my lips, voice low and husky, he said, “I still want to kiss you.”

Scorching breath lodged in my throat. A throat he now held in his hands.

His eyes flashed. “All you must do is say yes, little beauty, I’ll remind you how good it can be between us.”

A reminder might not be a bad thing. Could be helpful. For decision making. In the future.

But I knew better.

And yet? “Yes,” I croaked, my will too weak. I wanted this moment. This escape. If only for a little while.

Delight lit his eyes, the sunset shifting to a sunrise.

I expected a rush of passion, but he didn’t even breathe at first. He simply leaned in, letting the space between us ache with possibility. I waited, aching, more desperate by the second. Then, just when I thought I could stand it no longer, he brushed his lips against mine in the faintest, trembling touch.

My breath caught. The kiss was soft, almost shy, a rediscovery rather than a claim. When I parted my lips for him, he followed the action with exquisite caution, his tongue meeting mine in a slow, searching stroke, as though he were tracing the memory of who we’d been… and the possibility of who we might be again.

He tasted like Jasher, my Jasher, but gentler, softer, like the first spark of dawn. A warm flutter cascaded over my skin, then sank deeper and danced beneath my ribs.