A Vow So Bold and Deadly (Cursebreakers, #3)

by Brigid Kemmerer

My blush deepens, and I glance at his hand sheepishly. “As if you couldn’t break my hold.” “As if I’d want to.” “As if—” He leans in to press his lips to mine, and I suck in a breath. My fingers are still wrapped around his wrist, but it feels like he has caught me. His mouth is warm against my own, slow and intense, drawing a small sound from my throat when his tongue brushes mine. I don’t know if I let him go or if he breaks free, but his hands are suddenly on my waist, lighting a fire inside me. My back hits the cold frame of the window, making the panes rattle. I gasp in surprise, but he captures the sound with his mouth, his weight against me now, heavy and addictive. We’ve kissed before, but he seems closer than he’s ever been. His kisses have grown more insistent, more sure. More of a challenge than a question. My hands drift along the muscles of his arms to his shoulders, his chest, seeking skin but only finding so much leather, so many weapons. His fingers play at the edge of my belt, where I’m a little ticklish, and it makes me giggle and squirm—until his other hand slips lower, finding my hip through the robes, making me flush and gasp in an entirely new way.