Page 278 of Ashen Torment

He lifts himself just enough to look at me. His fair hair falls over my face, tickling my nose.

“Do you truly not comprehend?”

I turn my head to the side, sinking my cheek into the pillow.

“I have already told you that I do not speak Russian.”

“I did not mean that.”

My jaw tightens. “You are insufferable.”

The bed creaks as he moves between my legs. I keep my face buried in the pillow.

“Tell me,” I say quietly. “What it means.”

His mouth brushes my ear. “No.”

A shiver snaps down my neck, I bring my hand to my ear without turning.

“I will find out anyway.”

His breathing shifts slightly, then I feel his teeth close over the rim of my ear. “And how?”

I bring my hand back to my ear to cover it. His lips follow and, instead of stopping, they take my fingers. He nibbles them gently, one by one.

“Books exist,” I mutter, trying not to betray my irritation. “You know that, don’t you?”

I feel his smile against my knuckles.

“Did you not say you no longer wished to waste time on me?”

I snap my head around. Too close. His eyes were already on me.

“I have begun to learn it, this language,” I reply sharply. “I am not in the habit of leaving things half-done.”

He chuckles. “And what have you learned, Viscount?”

“Durac.”

His face changes, the smile vanishes. “What did you say?”

My confidence deserts me, I feel the heat rising to my face.

“D-durash?”

He buries his face in my neck. His breath tickles my skin, but he remains silent.

“Lord Dorian?”

Nothing.

“Dorian?”

His shoulders begin to shake against my chest. I lift my head just enough to see him: he is pressing his lips together, eyelids clamped shut. Then he loses the battle. He laughs. Softly at first, then without control. Annoyance rises rapidly within me.

My arm tenses, my fist flying almost of its own accord. It doesn’t reach its destination, he intercepts the blow, twists my wrist, and brings my hand to his lips, leaving a light kiss on the back.

“Forgive me.”