Forge didn’t look away from me to watch them. His eyes combed over my face and slid down my throat. Lower. He held me away from him a little, his gaze sliding down my legs to the tips of my toes, which curled in the pointed tips of my heels at his perusal. Forge let out an agonizing, “Damn, Gravebriar.” “What’s the matter?” I asked. “I want to kiss you, but your crimson lips would smear and Arum wants us inside.” I smirked. “That is a conundrum.” “Quite a quandary,” he said, his lips not turning upward into their usual confident grin. “A dilemma, to be sure,” I teased, smiling. “You are being
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