“I mean... it's just one night,' he said softly. 'In the morning, you can forget it. You can go back to pretending you don't like me, and I can pretend that I don't care. But for tonight, let me pretend you're mine.'
She melted at the word mine. For a dizzying second, she couldn't think. She couldn't bring herself to pull away, and yet she couldn't tell him she would stay.
'If it's easier, you can pretend, too,' he whispered. 'You can pretend I'm still Jacks of the Hollow and that you want to be mine.' His mouth pressed against her throat once more and slowly traced a blissful line up her neck, to her ear. Then his teeth nipped her earlobe.
She gasped. The bite was sharp and a little painful, as if he wanted to hold her and punish her, too. But he didn't have to punish her. This was already torture because she wanted it so much. She wanted him to want her, even if he was half-delirious in his wanting.
'I'm not delirious.' His voice was husky with something like sleep, but when he looked down on her, his eyes were clear and lucid.
And Evangeline felt as if she was tumbling in to them.”
―
Stephanie Garber,
The Ballad of Never After
