Page 99 of Temporary Vows

“I’m trying,” I hiss.

“Try harder. You look freaked out. Like I’m going to drag you into the woods and cut off your fingers.” I don’t know how he does it. He keeps that straight face even when he’s taunting me about something so serious.

“I’m sure I don’t look like that.”

He answers with a shake of his head.

“What kind of kiss will this be?” I breathe.

He cocks a brow. “What kind of question is that?”

“The regular kind.”

“Then it will be a regular kiss.”

Great. Now he’s being difficult—morethan usual.

I ignore his lame response and push anyway. I need something to prepare myself. “Like the kind of kiss you give your grandma?” I inch forward, trying to read past his stern expression. “Or… the way you kissed me at the club?”

The memory hits low in my stomach, sending heat coursing through my body.

To my surprise, he bites back a smile, the dimple in his left cheek betraying him. “I’ve never kissed my grandma.”

“You know what I mean.”

“Not really, Little Lamb. I don’t categorize kisses.” He glances at me briefly. “But if I were, I’d…”

I wait for his answer, but it doesn’t come. “You’d what?”

He looks at me again, this time holding my gaze for a beat before his eyes drop to my lips. “I’d say there are three levels.”

We’re further away now, almost alone.

“Which are?”

“The casual kiss. Good for hellos or goodbyes. The prelude kiss, the kind that leaves you wanting more than just a kiss. And then…”

He pauses, and my pulse kicks at the suspense.

“The last one is the mindfuck kiss.” A full smile spreads across his face, laced with menace. “The one that makes you crazy. The one where you’re only sane when you’re kissing the other person. You don’t come back from that one.”

My bottom lip trembles, and suddenly, my throat is so dry I can’t remember the last time I had water.

I shouldn’t ask any more questions. God knows I shouldn’t, but I can’t resist. “Which one are we doing?”

His smile widens. “I’ll let you be the judge of that.”

Before I can respond, he pulls me flush against him. The sudden contact steals the air from my lungs, then he crusheshis lips to mine. The searing kiss strips all logic from my mind, leaving me useless.

Dorian cups the back of my head, pulling me closer, close enough that I feel the heat of him through every layer between us.

His tongue slips through the seam of my lips, exploring every inch of my mouth like he wants to ensure I know he’s staked his claim. I go limp against his hard body, molding into him as I taste him, too.

Damn it, I’m supposed to maintain control. I’m supposed to keep the reins on my mind and body and remember this isn’t real. Except it feels too real to me, and I can’t stop myself from indulging.

He tastes delicious. Like darkness and sin. Summer and snow. Fire and ice.

My palms press against his chest, but then he slows the kiss, bringing it to a stop.