A Court of Silver Flames - Sarah J. Maas Page 0,78

her mouth, as he slid his tongue over her teeth.

She met him stroke for stroke, and all sense of self went flying from her. She plunged her fingers into his hair, and it was as soft as she’d imagined, the strands like silk against her skin.

Every hateful thought eddied from her mind. She gave herself to the distraction, welcomed it with open arms, let the kiss burn through all of it. There was only his mouth and his tongue and his teeth, licking and tasting and biting; there was only the strength of his body, pressing against hers, but not nearly close enough—

He slid his hands around her, grasping her ass, and lifted her into the air. She wrapped her legs around his middle, and moaned again as he pressed himself between her thighs.

She needed this temporary reprieve from her mind, that thing burning deep inside her, the memories that hounded her. She needed this. Needed him.

Cassian ground into her, and groaned into her mouth at the first push of his hips. She arched her back at that deep-throated sound, baring her neck to him. He seized on it, dragging his mouth from hers.

His tongue traced a line up the column of her neck, dragging heat in its wake, and reached that spot just below her ear that had her clenching, had her whimpering. He let out a laugh against her skin. “Like that?” he murmured, and licked it again.

Her breasts ached, and she moved against him, seeking any contact with his chest, any bit of friction. But Cassian buried his face against her neck, teeth clamping down lightly atop her fluttering pulse. The slight hurt set her panting; the scrape of his tongue over the spot had her eyes rolling back in her head.

He pulled his head from her neck, though. And Nesta had never been laid so bare as she was while he ground his hips into her again and watched her writhe.

A dark smile graced his mouth. “So responsive,” he purred in a voice she’d never heard but knew she’d crawl to hear again. He drove his hips between hers, a lazy, thorough push of the hardness of him into the throbbing ache of her. She scrambled to regain any sense of control, of sanity—found herself wanting to hand it all over to him, to let him touch and touch and touch her, lick and suckle and fill her—

Cassian growled, as if he read that in her stare, and kissed her again.

Their tongues tangled, their bodies pressed so tightly she could feel his heartbeat against her chest. He tasted her thoroughly, withdrew, and tasted her again. Like he was learning every place in her mouth.

She had to feel his skin. Had to feel the hardness pushing into her with her hands, her mouth, her body. She’d go mad if she didn’t, go mad if she couldn’t get these clothes off, go mad if he stopped kissing her—

Nesta wedged her hand between their bodies, seeking him out. Cassian groaned again, long and low, as her hand cupped him through the leather of his pants. The breath stole out of her. The sheer size of him—

Her mouth watered. She was aching, so wet that every stitch of the seam down the center of her pants was torture.

His kiss turned deeper, wilder, and she grappled with the laces and buttons of his pants. There were so many she didn’t know where to find the ones to undo them, her fingertips ripping at every loop, nearly clawing to get him free.

Cassian’s panting caressed her skin as he nipped at her bottom lip, her ear, her jaw. Her own staccato breathing echoed it, fire roaring in her blood, and he captured her mouth again, moaning into her as she gave up on the laces and buttons and laid her hand flat against him. He bucked as she rubbed the heel of her palm down his length, marveling at each inch.

He tore his mouth from hers. “If you keep doing that, I’ll—”

Nesta did it again, dragging the heel of her palm upward, toward the tip she knew pressed against his lower abdomen. His hips arced toward her, and he tilted back his head, exposing the strong column of his throat. She learned the shape of him through his pants, and pressed her hand harder, working him. He gritted his teeth, chest heaving like a bellows, and the sight of him coming undone had her leaning forward. Had her clamping her teeth onto his