Page 42 of Kissing Potions and Elves (Oakvale Ever After #1)

ISOBEL

A fter our celebration in the kitchen, it’s late. Stepping out of the tub, I dry off and slip into my blue nightshift. Work looms tomorrow, and I’m sure I’ll be tired, but I can’t sleep.

Today was perfect—so perfect that I’m worried I’ll close my eyes and wake up to find it was all just a dream.

I’m about to lie down in bed when a thought occurs to me: I don’t have to hide my feelings any longer. Lyrion feels as strongly for me as I do for him.

Pulling a robe over my shoulders, I gather my courage and then slip out into the hallway. Quietly, I tiptoe to his room. My pulse thrums wildly as I reach his door, take a deep breath, and knock.

“Come in,” he murmurs, voice low and rough with sleep.

Pushing open the door, I step into his chambers. Moonlight pours through the open curtains, highlighting the perfect lines of his form as he sits up in bed. The blankets fall to his waist, revealing his muscular chest.

My mouth goes dry as my eyes trace the lean muscles of his arms and the sculpted planes of his abdomen. He’s wearing only soft-knit pants that hang low on his hips.

“Isobel?” His violet eyes darken as his gaze travels over me. My robe parts, revealing my silken sleep gown. The hemline only reaches mid-thigh, with two thin straps over my shoulders to hold it in place.

I shift nervously under his intense scrutiny. Heat scorches my cheeks, and I quickly adjust the robe, covering my nightshift and securing the sash. “I—I’m sorry. I should just go.”

“Is something wrong?”

“No. I… wanted to sleep beside you. Just to sleep,” I quickly add. “Nothing else. But perhaps it’s best if I go back to my room.”

“Come here,” he murmurs, pulling back the blankets as he extends his hand.

Removing my robe, I step forward and slip my palm into his. My heart pounds as I climb into the bed beside him.

He wraps his strong arms around me, drawing me close until I’m nestled against his powerful frame. My entire body hums with the awareness of him—his scent, his warmth, the way his muscles flex beneath my fingertips.

A soft sigh of contentment escapes me. Everything about this feels right. “I love this,” I admit quietly.

He cups my chin and traces his thumb across my cheek. “I do too,” he whispers before his lips capture mine in a slow and achingly tender kiss.

My fingers slide into his hair as his tongue curls around mine, deepening our kiss. When I reach up and touch the pointed tips of his ears, his breath stutters and he pulls away.

Swallowing hard, he rests his forehead to mine. “If sleep is all we intend to do this night, we should stop, before I lose all sense.”

Feeling bold, and perhaps a bit reckless, I ask, “What if I don’t want to stop?”

He groans, dropping his head into the curve of my neck, his voice a tortured whisper against my skin. “The gods have sent you to test me.”

I hold back a smile. I love that I have this effect on him.

Lyrion lifts his head and cups my cheek. “As much as I desire you, it wouldn’t be proper to fully claim you because we are not officially bound. And I want everything between us to be perfect. You deserve no less, my Isobel.”

I love that he calls me his, because I already consider him mine. “What about kissing and touch? Is it acceptable to do that?”

His lips twitch. “Just barely.”

I smile at his teasing. Slowly, I lean in and brush my lips to his as I whisper against them. “Then, will you please kiss me and touch me, Lyrion?”

He crushes his mouth to mine in a searing kiss, stealing the breath from my lungs. Warmth floods me as he trails his hands down my body, the tips of his fingers leaving a trail of fire in their wake as they trace over my sensitive skin.

Anticipation tightens deep within as he presses a series of kisses down my neck. “Lyrion,” I breathe, running my fingers through his long, silken hair as overwhelming sensation moves through me.

He dips his hand beneath the edge of my nightshift, pushing it gently upward. The cool night air brushes my bare skin as I help him remove it entirely, leaving me exposed beneath the heat of his gaze.

His violet eyes travel over my form as though I’m the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. Warmth pools low in my belly as his gaze holds mine, full of fire and possession.

“You’re beautiful, Isobel,” he murmurs reverently. “Perfect.”

His head lowers once more, pressing soft kisses to my left breast before closing his mouth over the hardened peak. I arch against him as his tongue laves over the sensitive bead and then begins a gentle suction.

After a moment, he turns his attention to the other breast, making me writhe beneath him.

He moves down my body, worshipping me with his lips and his tongue. My thighs tremble as he drifts even lower and settles between them.

My breath quickens as he looks up at me, his pupils blown wide. “May I kiss you here, Isobel?” he asks, voice rough with need.

A flutter of anxious uncertainty rises within. I’ve overheard women speaking of doing this to men, but I’ve never heard it the other way around. “I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do,” I admit, embarrassment scalding my cheeks. “Is this some sort of… Elvish thing?”

“I’ve never done this either, but I don’t believe it’s specific to my kind.” He presses a tender kiss to my thigh. “But your scent is driving me mad,” he whispers. “I long to taste you. Will you allow this, my Isobel?”

Somehow, I manage to nod.

He lowers his head back down, brushing slow, reverent kisses along my inner thighs as he moves closer to my core. When he dips his tongue between my slick folds, I inhale sharply as desire coils deep within.

I gasp and arch into his touch when he reaches the small bundle of nerves at the top, grasping his thick silken hair as exquisite sensations cascade through me.

I’ve touched myself before, but it’s never felt anything like this. Every soft, deliberate stroke of his tongue builds a fierce heat, spiraling tighter and tighter inside me.

Encouraged by my response, he concentrates on the sensitive pearl of flesh that makes my entire body light up with pleasure. My breath hitches as my body quivers, poised on the brink of ecstasy.

“Lyrion.” I cry out his name as my release washes through me in wave after wave of pure bliss.

I’m still coming down from the intensity of my climax when he moves back up my body. His stav is a hard bar between us as he captures my lips again in a tender kiss.

I dip my hand under the waistband of his pants. He groans as I trace my fingers over his length to explore him. It’s covered in a series of hard ridges and he’s so large, I’m surprised when my fingers do not quite touch when I try to wrap them around his girth.

A warm bead of liquid gathers on the end and he growls low in arousal as I brush my thumb across it.

He captures my wrist, pulling my hand away with a low groan. Panting heavily, he stares down at me, his eyes pitch black with desire. “We must stop, Isobel,” he rasps. “Or I will be tempted to claim you fully.”

Softly biting my lower lip, I nod.

Lyrion drops to his side and gathers me close. He curls his body protectively around me, his breath warm against my hair.

He presses a tender kiss to my temple and I rest my head on his chest. Closing my eyes, I listen to the steady beat of his heart beneath my ear as I drift away into sleep.