Page 67 of Knight’s Absolution

She swallowed several times as she met his gaze again and forced herself to say it, to find the courage to ask for what she wanted. And like Mia with the training, perhaps that was the point. “I want a kiss where my body is pressed against yours, so it’s not just your lips on me, but all of you. The one where you opened your mouth and your tongue slid against mine…”

The growl that came from him was unexpected, and before she could say any more, he tipped her head back and brought his mouth down on hers.

A gentle brush of lips, once, twice, three times.

More, she wanted more.

Then he gave it to her. He pressed his thumb down on her chin, opening her mouth, and his tongue swept inside. Her arms slid around his neck, and he tugged her closer, his huge frame bending over her, arching her back as he kissed her more deeply.

His mouth was a demand against hers, and she loved it. She’d never felt this good in her life. She copied his movements, moving her tongue against his until she no longer had to think about it. In the end, she didn’t have to think about any of it, she just felt, letting her mouth do what it wanted because it seemed to know what to do all on its own.

Gunner’s arm spasmed around her before it went loose and he lifted his head, eyes black, chest heaving. “Christ, you’re good at that.”

“Really?” She smiled wide, so wide her cheeks hurt. Happy. She was so incredibly happy.

“Yes,” he said and rubbed a hand over his hair. “You make me forget myself, where I am, who I am. Christ, every damn thing.”

“Since I’ve never kissed anyone but you, that has to mean I’m a natural.” She was smiling like crazy. She had to look ridiculous, but she couldn’t stop, and right then didn’t care if she looked like an idiot.

Gunner tugged her back to him, hugging her before kissing the top of her head. “I guess so. Come on, let’s go before I start kissing you again.”

“And who could blame you?”

He laughed again as he led her from the room, and Luna couldn’t take her eyes off him while he did.

“You need to change, maybe eat something before we go back out tonight. You like pancakes?”

“I don’t know.”

He kept her tucked in close to his body and led her down the hall. “Let’s find out.”

CHAPTER 19

Hell

Dread filled Scarlet as she rushed down the hall. Something was wrong. She didn’t know how she knew it, but an awful feeling, dark and hollow, had gripped her since she woke. And the closer she got to Tobias’s cell, the worse it got, as if a cold, shadowed claw was reaching up and squeezing the frantically beating muscle behind her ribs.

She paused when she reached the door. There was more than one leathren demon hanging around outside. The demons were feasting on pain, on Tobias’s pain.

Oh god, what had they done to him? She shoved the door open and rushed inside.

The sob that had already been climbing her throat burst from her at the sight of Tobias’s battered and bleeding body. Every day it got worse, every day they took him closer and closer to death.

She rushed to his side. He wasn’t chained to the wall today, no, they had him on a slab of curved stone. He was on his back, chained down so tight, his entire body was bowed brutally.

Falling to her knees, she cupped his face. “I’m here,” she whispered as tears streamed down her face. “I’m here.”

Another day, maybe two, and she wouldn’t be able to bring him back. There would be no repairing the damage his demon tormentors had done.

“Please, open your eyes, speak to me. I can’t lose you, my love, I can’t lose you, not again…”

The endearment slipped from her lips without thought, and the big male stirred. She stilled, blinking down at him in confusion. Again? Why had she said that?

Tobias coughed, and blood dripped from the corner of his mouth. Frantically, she dipped her rag in her little bowl and began moving it over the deep, gruesome cuts in his skin. God, she could see bone…organs.

It was too much. He’d been hurt too badly for her ministrations to help. But she had to try. There was no holding back her sobs as she dipped her rag in the bowl’s healing liquid and wrung it out over the worst of the wounds. With a fierce cry, she yanked at the unforgiving chain pinning down his arms, but it didn’t budge. His breathing was shallow and so slow she kept waiting for it to stop altogether.

Dragging the back of her hand over her eyes, she picked up the bowl and began to pour its contents, slowly and carefully, over his wounded body, something she’d never done before. And thankfully, every time she set it back down, it refilled on its own.