Chapter Six #3
I responded in kind—how could I not?—and he growled, low and deep in his throat, and it gave me a powerful sense of satisfaction that I’d inspired such a feral response.
I’d been kissed before. Not a lot, certainly, but it wasn’t as though I were entirely innocent.
But this kiss was far beyond anything I’d experienced before (my apologies, Fred the greengrocer; you were good but not demon-kiss good).
It was as though there were only us in the world, only this meeting of our mouths and where his hands held me and the contrast between his too-warm skin and the cool nighttime air and the heat of his mouth and his tongue twining around mine, licking and sucking, the faintly lewd sounds we made the perfect accompaniment.
He intensified the moment, splaying his hand against my back, then gripping my hip so tightly I knew I’d have his handprint there later.
Just as I was beginning to reach for him, placing my hands at his waist, he drew back, his eyes dark, his chest rising rapidly. “I could have done that before,” he said, his voice husky. “As I said.” His tone was smug.
I froze.
Then I withdrew both my hands from his person and raised my right hand up and slapped him, hard.
His head jerked back, but he didn’t react otherwise. Just kept his gaze on mine, his mouth slightly curled into a wry smile.
“You…” I sputtered.
He raised an eyebrow. “Me?” he said in a challenging tone.
I stared at him for another few moments; then I grabbed hold of the back of his neck and brought his face down to mine, returning our mouths together.
I pressed my lips against his, hard, then slid my tongue inside his mouth and tangled it with his. I was equal parts fury and lust, so consumed by conflicting emotion I couldn’t even think straight.
This kiss was just as excellent as the first one.
No, better—because this time I was in charge and determined to remain so, as well as show him what I was capable of, regardless of his demonic tricks.
I lost myself in it, feeling powerful, if only for a moment, over this being who could crush me with a flick of his wrist, if he so chose.
Eventually, I regained my wits and jerked back. His cheek was red where I’d hit him, but his look was molten, and I felt it throughout my body.
It was a good thing we were out in public. I wouldn’t have trusted either of us not to take what had happened further.
“That was entirely you,” he remarked, bringing his hand up to his mouth. I watched, fascinated, as he drew his thumb slowly over his bottom lip as though remembering how it felt when we’d kissed.
“You used your power on me to do that,” I said in a low voice. “I wanted to see if—”
“You wanted to see if it felt the same without the power,” he said, finishing my thought. “And now, how do you know I used my power? It might have been impulse, Hastings. You in the moonlight being irascible might have proved too tempting for me.”
He spoke in a throaty, seductive tone that resonated throughout my body.
“Did you use your power?” I demanded.
One eyebrow rose. “Did I?” He shrugged. “Perhaps. Perhaps not.”
“I wouldn’t be able to trust you, no matter what you said.”
He twisted his lips. “No, you wouldn’t.” His gaze was on my mouth, so intense it was a palpable thing.
And the worst part was, I wished it were palpable—I wished we were kissing again, and more.
I’d done some things with Fred the greengrocer that I very much wished to repeat with Lord Dodgy Truth here, only that would be the worst possible idea ever.
Oh, except for the other worst possible idea, which was kissing him myself after he’d just used his power—or not—to kiss me.
“Well,” I said, attempting to regain whatever shred of composure I had left, “I should go in.” I started to walk ahead, as quickly as I could, but soon enough, he’d caught up and put his hand on my arm.
“I can make it from here,” I said through gritted teeth. I really did not want to spend any more time with this man—this demon—because either I was going to slap him again or kiss him again, and I didn’t think I should do either thing to someone I was supposed to be behaving diplomatically toward.
That horse had long since left the barn, unfortunately. It was probably already halfway to France, at this rate. Adieu, mon cheval.
“But, Hastings, I said I would see you home. You wouldn’t have me break a promise, would you?”
I almost did slap him again, just for his sly tone, but I restrained myself.
“My lord,” I said, in my quietest, most lethal tone of voice, “I assure you, you breaking a promise is the least of my concerns.”
He laughed but insisted on escorting me all the way to the boardinghouse’s front door.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Hastings,” he said, his gaze still lingering on my mouth. I couldn’t suppress my shivered response. “Thank you for a…memorable evening.”
And then he was off, moving more quickly than I’d ever seen a human move. I watched him go, my mind jumbled with everything that had happened, as well as wondering if I was possibly going to get away with not telling my friends about it.
Especially that part.