Page 29 of A Kiss of Flame

Her throat suddenly felt tight. It was such a raw and honest thing to admit, and it touched her to her core. He didn’t just mean she was one of the few to see him with his wings. They had shared so much over the long years they’d known each other, and even though they still didn’t know every detail, there was a bond between them she hadn’t shared with anyone else. Not even Carvatticus.

Levian brushed her hand up along his neck tenderly. “I suppose I could say the same of you,” she told him.

When he dipped down and softly kissed her forehead, it startled them both. Levian inhaled sharply, and he pulled back.

They stared at each other, uneasy. Levian swallowed, the air between them thickening. Her insides tightened with anticipation.

Was he trying to win the bet? He seemed just as startled as she was. It was silly—it had only been a simple, chaste kiss. Yet the tension continued to grow as he gazed down at her. He tightened his grip, pulling her closer.

“Vi,” he murmured, almost pained, making her core ache.

She brushed her finger along the edge of his bearded jaw, magick cascading from her touch as her thumb brushed against his lips. He growled, the sound vibrating through her.

The arousal from earlier surged, and Levian found herself losing focus. When he took her thumb into his mouth and suckled gently, a wave of pleasure shot through her. Her breath hitched, and she pulled her thumb away. His eyes darkened, fixating on her lips. For a second, they both knew what was about to happen but let the moment linger. A silent agreement. A silent desire. Barith leaned in, brushing his lips softly against hers. It was hesitant. Unsure. Neither of them pulled away.

Whatever had held her back snapped, and she deepened the kiss. It was like an explosion. The air crackled as she slid her hands around his neck, pulling him closer. Barith growled into her mouth, wrapping his arms around her tighter until she pressed against him. The pressure of his chest against her breasts was heavenly.

Levian hadn’t forgotten how skilled of a kisser Barith was—teasing when she needed to be teased, devouring when she wanted to be consumed. When he broke away to kiss along her jaw and down her neck, Levian arched into him, pressing her breasts harder against his chest. The sensation was utterly delicious, and a groan escaped her.

He growled, nipping at her ear, then her neck. Levian nearly purred in response. Even in her passionate delirium, she was competitive. He wasn’t the only one with power. She moved the hand woven into his hair to the ridge of his wing, remembering what he’d divulged in the alley. Levian brushed her fingers along the scales of his wing with a skitter of violet magick.

Barith shuddered, stopping his kisses. She did it again, and he tensed. She felt the hard length of him against her thigh, his little shorts the only thing separating them. Levian hadn’tforgotten that part of him either. Barith was cocky, but to his credit, he had the credentials to back it up.

Levian's arousal heightened, and she reached up with both hands, stroking along each wing, sending shocks of magick ricocheting between them. Barith whimpered, closing his eyes, his breath shallow. One of his thumbs brushed under her breast, and she gasped. A cocky delirious smirk was his reply. Levian had been about to breathlessly tell him where he could stick that grin of his before his mouth was on hers.

She despised the unfiltered moan of ecstasy that spilled out of her when his thumb brushed her nipple. Levian wanted him. This wasn’t a game anymore. Flashes of dark fantasies filled her mind—of them locked away in one of Kamár’s private rooms, tangled in silk sheets, lost in passion; of her suspended, tied in elaborate ropes, waiting for Barith to push her to the edge; of them in Ember Hall’s library, making love before the fire.

It was that last image that jarred her—a scene not of lust but intimacy. It struck a sensitive nerve, and Levian recoiled. She grabbed Barith’s shoulders and pushed him back. His dark expression shifted to one of confusion.

“We should stop,” she panted, her skin still tingling.

“Vi?” Barith said cautiously, recognizing something was wrong.

That made it worse. She pulled back, the fire doused by a cold splash of reality. “This isn’t helping us,” she rambled. “We need to find the Curator.”

“Levian, I’m—” Barith began, his voice thick with guilt. He sighed, letting his wings partially open around them, stepping back and positioning her so she could stand on her own under the water.

The others watched, their display drawing whispers, attention, and a few winks. Levian forced herself to smile,slipping back into her practiced, kittenish demeanor as she exited the pool, leaving Barith behind.

She grabbed a towel, wrapping it around herself, and heard thewhooshof water as Barith followed her out. She glanced over her shoulder—his wings were gone, his expression flat. Guilt gnawed at her.

Levian had broken away so abruptly, and now he was hurt. They’d gotten caught up in the moment and the ambiance. She was sex-deprived and on edge. It was her fault, but they needed to get back on task. She knew the best thing to do was put it behind them. “I suppose I’ve lost,” she admitted, her tone light but her words sour.

He lifted his head, his expression unreadable as he took a towel. “Aye,” he replied, his voice gravelly. “I knew I’d win.” There was no smugness, only a hollowness that made her stomach knot.

“Leaving so soon?” One of the fae called from the shore. “There are never dragons at Kamár, and we’d hoped to keep you to ourselves for a while.”

Others chimed in with agreement. The red-haired witch openly pouted at the idea that Barith would leave without at least letting them get a good look at his wings again. Levian felt a jolt of disgust. They were treating Barith like a prize—a thing—and it made her want to scream, even if that had been the reason she’d brought him here in the first place.

Barith turned back to the others and replied without a hint of unease, “I’d love to stay, but we’re playing a bit of a game, and unless one of ye deals in rare and ‘very legal’ artifacts, I think we best be off.”

Levian’s stomach dropped at his bluntness, but she kept her face neutral.

When no one came forward, Barith shrugged, wished them good night, blew a kiss to the naiads, who giggled, and put on hisslippers. He headed for the path without a single glance back at her.

Levian hesitated, feeling his irritation. She quickly threw on her robe and slippers and rushed after him. She caught up, grabbing his arm.

Barith stopped, his expression flat. “I’m fine, Vi,” he growled under his breath. “I just need a minute.”