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Kiss Me, My Duke

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Fenna Edgewood

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“I just tremble with anxiety when you’re not around, but when you finally arrive, nothing else matters.” I kept the tone of my voice light. I was confused that he was cuddling me with affection instead of answering my angry outburst with a fight. Why did he want to hear all that so badly if he knew that soon it would just be another burden for us? But he wasn’t bothered by any of those things and just went on to kiss me. I felt the taste of the rain and freedom on his warm lips. No one had ever kissed me before. I should have pushed him away. I should have left. And maybe even the lightning should have struck us. But none of those things happened. The world was all the same just a second ago. Only I was different—I felt like dancing.”

“What about your part of the bargain?' 'What?' He leaned closer, his smile turning wicked. 'What about my kiss?' I grabbed his fingers. 'Here,' I said, and slammed my mouth against the back of his hand. 'There's your kiss.' Tamlin roared with laughter, but the world blurred, lulling me to sleep.”

“And then his arms were suddenly around her. For a split second, time stood still for Laurel, and what was more, she wished it to. She wanted to preserve that moment, the moment just before, when everything was still possible and perfect. When the night was bright with anticipation and the promise of a kiss hung in the air between them, filling the room with a hair-raising charge like the feeling just before a bolt of lightning strikes during a terrific thunderstorm. He stepped closer and she breathed in deeply. The scent of a clean masculine soap, the rich spice of an expensive cologne, and beneath it all, the duke himself, earthy, woodsy, and so very male. Laurel’s eyes closed as his body pressed against hers. It was very firm and hard, just as she had imagined it would be. The sensation was intriguing. She could feel his breath on her face. Smell the rich caramel notes of the whisky he had been drinking. He was very close now. Then the moment was over and a new one began, and things would never, ever be the same.”

“(...) —Por Dios, Levi. Mírate..., eres... —no tenía palabras para describir a Levi. Era una pintura rupestre. Era 'El globo rojo'. Se puso de puntitas y lo atrajo hacia sí hasta tener su cara tan cerca que no podía mirarlo a los dos ojos al mismo tiempo—. Eres mágico —dijo. Levi mostró una sonrisa tan inmensa que casi le desaparecieron los ojos. Ella le besó la comisura de los labios y él movió la cabeza para atraparle la boca.”