Chapter Twenty-Seven
VIOLET
I pull back again, but before I can break away, Joon opens the channel. Power gathers and flows into him, as he siphons faster than ever before.
Joon’s hand splays over my chest as he abruptly closes the channel. His power floods into me, healing me. Then he’s siphoning again. Over and over, he repeats the pattern, not giving my heart a chance to fall into an episode. I can feel the strength in him returning through every shift of muscle.
The kiss lingers. After the fifth time—or is it sixth? —I wait for the channel to open again. Only it doesn’t.
The hazy thought that I should pull away enters my mind, but I’m not quite ready to stop.
I want to continue tasting him. To revel in the feel of our chests pressed together as his arms encircle me, holding me in place, the heat of him along my inner thighs as I straddle him.
When had I climbed on top of him?
My eyes snap open, and I jerk back. Joon’s strong embrace keeps the rest of my body in place.
Demons and saints… I am wantonly straddling the Crown Prince.
Ever since he kissed me in the field, I have become greedier by the day—trying to take more than I should. But this time, I have gone too far.
Embarrassment rushes through me, even though he doesn’t seem to notice. I am supposed to help him break the curse, and he is supposed to keep me alive until then. This was never part of our bargain.
“Y-you’re injured,” I protest, but it sounds weak even to my ears.
Joon’s hands splay along my spine as he holds me against him. I don’t have it in me to even feign a weak attempt at trying to get away as his lips slowly trail along my jaw.
We should not be doing this.
“I am healed.” The low rumble of his voice mixes with the heat of his breath along the shell of my ear.
This is dangerous territory.
Dangerous for whom?
Me… a voice in the back of my mind whispers.
“Let me see,” I demand.
I feel him smile against my cheek. His arms loosen enough for me to crawl off him. I move around to his back.
Dancing flames cast a warm, flickering glow in the small room, but I can see the color has returned to his face. He is no longer concerningly pale.
Flakes of the dried salve still stick to him. I brush my palm over the area. A slight shudder rolls over him as I swipe the remainder away. Other than four faint, pink lines, he is whole again.
I sit back on my heels and take a deep breath, then let it out slowly. “I’m glad.”
Joon turns so that we are sitting side by side, facing opposite directions. He leans over my legs, planting his hand beside my hip. The position brings his face within inches of mine.
He was clear about how the siphoning process worked from the beginning—a necessary evil. Power requires a sense of intimacy to transfer. He is not doing this because he feels anything beyond his obligation to me. Yet, I’ve managed to lose myself in the process.
“Satisfied?” he asks.
Every inch of my body says no, but I manage to say, “Yes.” I lower my eyes to his shoulder, finding it hard to meet his gaze. “I was worried.”
The fire crackles in the hearth. Joon gently guides my chin toward him, so I have no choice but to meet his piercing gaze.
“Thank you,” he says. Two words that once sounded awkward the first time he uttered them are now full of sincerity.
“For what?”
Joon huffs a soft laugh and shakes his head as if it should be obvious. “For saving my life.”
“If it weren’t for me, your life would never have been in danger out there. Besides, you’re the one who saved my life.”
He lifts his hand beside my hip and curls his arm around my waist, pulling me into a hug so tight it’s as if he’s afraid I’ll evaporate if he lets go. Joon turns his face to rest his cheek on my shoulder, resting his brow against the side of my neck.
“We saved each other,” he murmurs. “You are not responsible for us getting caught by a harmony of wild demons.”
That is a difficult point to argue, so I don’t. Instead, I say, “We should get some rest.”
Joon hums in agreement, then he shifts, and the next thing I know, I’m on my back with him next to me. He flings the blanket over both of us.
I still can’t decide if he is oblivious to the effect he has on me, or if he’s well aware and enjoys teasing me for it. Either way, with him shirtless and me in my chemise, the temptation is too great.
“I should get dressed,” I whisper because I don’t trust my voice not to tremble. “And you should sleep on the bed.”
When I try to sit up, he holds me down by my shoulder. “It is better to share body heat, and our clothes are still damp.” Joon closes one eye, peering at me with just the other. “We have slept beside each other before.”
Heat prickles over my chest and works its way up my neck. “That was different… I had a fever.”
Joon props himself up on an elbow and leans over me. A wicked smirk spreads over his mouth. “I will grant you that, but I think there is another reason you are trying to run.” His eyes scan my face, then move down my neck to my chest before meeting my gaze again.
Any hope that the orange firelight disguised my blush is immediately dashed. He is definitely teasing me.
Joon’s expression turns serious again, and he lowers himself back down. He reaches up and brushes his fingertips over my forehead, then down the side of my cheek to guide my chin, turning my face to meet his gaze. The desire from a moment ago is back.
He is relentless, and I cannot hide from him.
“Violet…” His breath skims over my lips with the sound of my name.
My lashes flutter as a tremor passes over me. How could I ever stand a chance of resisting him when he does nothing but endlessly find ways to make sure I can’t?
“You were breathtaking out there.”
I shake my head. “You shouldn’t exaggerate.”
“It is no exaggeration. You fought beside me. You carried me when I could not stand on my own.” His lips graze the corner of my mouth. “There are a thousand ways to be strong, and you are all of them. I saw it in your face, the way you moved—you are the strongest person I know.”
He kisses me, soft and light. Then again, lingering a little longer. Without meaning to, my mouth searches for his, pulled by some unseen force, and I lean to the side, and he is there, meeting me halfway.
The kiss starts gentle and tentative, gradually deepening as uncertainty falls away.
A groan escapes me at the taste of him. Of ice and candied ginger and honey. Joon’s fingers tangle in my hair, cradling my head, urging me closer still, until our bodies are flush.
I let my hands roam over the plains of his chest, along his side, and over his stomach, feeling each muscle until my little finger bumps into the waist of his trousers.
A rumble, like a growl, vibrates in his chest. He rolls us, and I am on my back again as he holds his upper half over me, creating a cage I have no desire to escape.
Joon pins me with his stare as he slides his palm over my side, splaying over my stomach before gliding up to my ribs. His thumb brushes the underside of my breast, where he pauses for half a heartbeat.
My breath catches and releases on a shudder filled with need.
Then Joon is kissing me again. I moan into his mouth, which only encourages him.
His hand cups my breast, massaging gently before taking my nipple between two fingers and pinching.
I arch my back as the unexpected desire pools between my legs.
Joon trails kisses down my neck, nipping at my collarbone as he moves lower and lower. I gasp again as he takes the stiff peak into his mouth, using his tongue and teeth until I’m writhing beneath him.
He lifts his head, and our eyes meet. The material of my chemise is wet from his mouth, transparent, and plastered to my skin.
I drag my teeth over my bottom lip. He watches me watching him, leisurely trailing his fingers to the thin strap, then sliding it off my shoulder, then the other.
He hooks a finger along the collar, inching it down.
Lower and lower, until the material bunches around my waist.
Joon takes his time, letting his hand wander over every inch of exposed skin. I practically vibrate under his caress.
His mouth descends on my breast again as if he means to consume me. Then he moves to the other, sending fresh waves of insatiable need down to my core.
I have never felt such overwhelming sensations. It’s impossible to hold onto any coherent thought. All I can think about is that I never want him to stop.
So caught up in the way he slowly drives me mad that I don’t notice where his hand has gone until I feel his palm over the bare skin of my ass, sliding down the back of my leg to bend my knee up.
“Joon,” I manage to gasp by the time his hand rests just below my belly button.
Our eyes meet and lock as his touch shifts lower, grazing over the apex of my thighs, as he finds the evidence of my desire. It only takes the barest amount of pressure for two fingers to slip inside me.
The last scraps of propriety vanish as he sinks deeper and deeper. The sensation is unmatched.
“Joon?” I breathe his name. I mean to ask him what he’s doing, but then he begins to move his fingers, slowly stroking. I shudder around him.
“Tell me to stop and I will.”
“Don’t. Please don’t,” I am begging shamelessly, and can’t find it in me to care.
A rumble emanates from deep within his chest. “There you go again, making it impossible for me to deny you.”
I reach for him, stroking him through his trousers. He grinds his erection against my hand. I want to touch him the way he is touching me. Joon moves, shifting his hips before I can, and I let out a frustrated groan that’s cut off as he spreads my legs.
He gazes down the length of my body, snagging at my core before returning to my face. “You are beautiful, Violet.”