“I can’t reach these,” she said, her voice weak as he took her in.
His gaze slid over her in a wash of unmatched heat, and she felt it—
Gods, she felt iteverywhere. The nape of her neck, slope of her shoulders, the dip of her waist, the swell of her backside, down the length of her thighs to the tips of her feet, as if he couldn’t bear to miss a single detail. He followed the same path back up, and as he did, he stole all the air from her lungs.
With caution, Dez approached, maybe unsure of the boundaries. In the mirror Emmery caught a glimpse of his eyes screwed shut and face twisted in pain. Then, almost in an embrace, his hands slowly bracketed hers on the counter. And he bowed his head over her bare shoulder like he wanted to press his lips there. To taste her skin.
“It’s a little complicated,” he said hoarsely, not looking at the corset.
“Are you sure you can handle it?” The teasing question came out brittle.
“Fairly sure.”
Her mouth grew suddenly dry. “What did you whisper under your breath when you walked in? Did you call me a clown?” Her cheeks reddened further as he met her eyes in the mirror. Dark fire consumed his gaze, a whirl of midnight embers, smoke, and a temptation of shadows.
The sensitive skin of her shoulder and neck pebbled beneath his soft laugh. “A clown? No,no. I said…” He cleared the thickness from his throat. “Vera da mieste.”
“And that means?” Her breath hitched as he secured the first clasp. Blood streamed down his temples and the thorns wrestled beneath his skin, each brush of his fingers deliberate.
“It’s Sellidic slang.” As he traced the line of her spine, heat trailed his touch. “I need you to stand up straight.”
She removed her hands from the counter and rolled her shoulders back, but he bit back a small smile and licked his lips.“No, angel, I saidstraight. Though I love the delicious curve of your backside, I need you to tuck in your hips.”
Not sure how to take that comment, Emmery frowned at him in the mirror. As if he couldn’t wait a moment longer, his beautiful hands slid along the lacy undergarments and tilted her hips how he wanted them. Her eyes widened as her imagination sprinted to all sorts of dangerous, sinful places.
“Ah, that’s better,” he hummed.
As he worked the next clasps, the corset squeezed her lungs and waist taut, and the caress of his hands set her nerves alight. Her world narrowed to his uneven breath on her shoulder, the steady trickle of blood he swiped away, and, after he fastened the last clasp, his lingering hands.
“It’s definitely tight,” she said breathlessly. She couldn’t get air in her lungs, but she couldn’t blame the corset. Her swollen vestige echoed each pound of her pulse, and she knew he saw it along with the rampant thoughts written across her face. Maybe the same fantasies he’d hinted toward.
The nape of her neck tingled as his fingers wandered from the corset to the waistband of those frilly undergarments, and the tip of his forefinger playfully dipped beneath. When he grazed the edge of her scar, she sucked in a breath. He paused in either a silent ask for permission, or maybe to test the limits of their never-ending game. In answer, she leaned into his touch.
“What does ‘veer di meata’mean?” she practically panted.
“Vera da mieste,” he corrected, then chuckled low in his throat. Gods, she loved that sound. She would bathe in it if she could. “In rough translation it means ‘Damn me to the deepest pit of the Hollow.’”
Her words faltered as he traced the sliver of exposed skin between the corset and those tiny undergarments. His eyes held hers in the mirror, and she remained suspended in his gaze, afraid to miss a second.
She could have easily withdrawn or asked him to stop.
And he would have.
She knew he would.
But damn it, she didn’t want him to.
“Why would you”—she swallowed and her eyes fluttered closed for the briefest of moments—“say such a thing?”
“I needed to repent for all my wicked thoughts after I walked in and saw you in …that.”
The corners of her lips curled. “I thought you didn’t worship the gods.”
“I don’t,” he said simply. “But the sight of you made me want to pray.”
Though teasing consumed the statement, heat pooled in her belly and her racing heart begged him to fold her over the counter, slide his fingers lower, tug those silly undergarments aside, and—
Fuck.