A Touch of Poison (Shadows of the Tenebris Court, #2)

by Clare Sager

“I mean”—she gave an exaggerated shrug—“he has eyeballs, so I dare say he does.”

With a soft sound that started as surprise and melted into a sigh, she slotted into the space in front of me. Back against my chest, backside tantalisingly close to my dick, thighs curled over mine. I was too tired and already sinking back into sleep, unable to do anything about it other than squeeze her close and nuzzle against her hair and enjoy that simple, perfect pleasure.

“Your anger is a beautiful thing, Katherine. You are allowed to have it, and you’re allowed to show it.”

Ella had been right—the tension between us was enough to set the world ablaze.

“Are you trying to tell me they’re fully booked? I didn’t see many deer in the stables.” “No, but I want you in my bed.” My step into the room landed heavily. “What?”

Finishing that sentence was impossible. Because in the doorway stood Katherine, hair loose over her shoulders like a spill of fire, a sheer nightgown skimming over her perfect curves. My head spun as all the blood rushed to my cock, and I had to squeeze the mantelpiece to stop myself tearing across the room and devouring her whole.

Toe-to-toe with me, she stopped, and my heart thundered, demanding to know why there was any distance between us.

“You held me before. Didn’t you say you were just giving me water when I needed it?” She gave me a wide-eyed look and in that one second I almost—almost—believed her innocent. But she asked me please and now watched my lips, waiting for my response. This was not the innocent Lady Katherine Ferrers. This was my ember. Mouth suddenly dry, I barely managed to swallow. “I was wrong. There is no ‘just’ between us. Only everything.”

Because I had fallen for her. Irrevocably. Helplessly. Perfectly.

“Are you my ember?” “Yes,” the word spilled from her on a breath.

And then I set my shadows to work.

I could have this. Have her. The wild panic of that seized me, making my pulse spike. I could have what I wanted.

Fae couldn’t speak them out loud, but Stars above, could we lie to ourselves. It counted.

“At your feet, all rules kneel. I’m no hero, Katherine, but, please, let me be your villain.”

“You’re my bastard, Bastian. My beautiful fucking bastard. Mine. And now I want you to show me everything that means.”

“On your knees, love. Show me what that lying little mouth can do.”

You are the Night Queen’s Shadow, not a lovestruck boy.

Fuck. I mean, fuck. She had no business looking that good—not when I could do nothing about it.

I was Katherine Fucking Ferrers, and I was going to go and save the man I loved.