61
" Sage, I distinctly remember every part of that night. You didn’t seem that unwilling. You were practically on top of me.”
“I don’t really remember the details,” I lied.
He moved his hand from my neck and rested a fingertip on my lips. “But I’ll stick to just kissing these if it makes you feel better. No mark.” He started to lean toward me, and I jerked away.
“You will not! It’s wrong.”
“What, kissing you, or kissing you in Pies and Stuff?”
“Both,” I said, feeling my cheeks burn. “If you’re going to attempt something inappropriate—something you said you wouldn’t do anymore—then you could at least pick a better place.”
He laughed softly, and the look in his eyes confused me further. “Okay,” he said. “The next time I kiss you, I promise it’ll be in a more romantic place.”
“I—what? No! You shouldn’t try at all! "
― Richelle Mead , The Indigo Spell (Bloodlines, #3)
64
" And somehow, against all reason, we were kissing. I closed my eyes, and the
world around me faded. The noise, the smoke . . . it was gone. All that mattered
was the taste of his mouth, a mix of cloves and mints. There was a fierceness in his kiss, a desperation . . . and I answered, just as hungry for him. I didn’t stop
him when he pulled me closer, so that I almost sat on his lap. I’d never been
wrapped around someone’s body like that, and I was shocked at how eagerly
mine responded. His arm went around my waist, pulling me onto him further,
and his other hand slid up the back of my neck, getting entangled in my hair.
Amazingly, the wig stayed on. He took his lips away from my mouth, gently
trailing kisses down to my neck. I tipped my head back, gasping when the
intensity returned to his mouth. There was an animalistic quality that sent shock
waves through the rest of my body. Some Alchemist voice warned me that this
was exactly how a vampire would feed, but I had no fear. Adrian wouldn’t hurt
me, and I needed to know just how hard he could kiss me and—
“Oh my God!”
Adrian and I jerked apart as though someone had thrown cold water on us,
though our legs stayed entangled. "
― Richelle Mead , The Indigo Spell (Bloodlines, #3)
65
" Miss Melbourne?
“Yes, ma’am?”
“You might want to do something about your neck.”
I was totally lost. “My neck?”
She reached into her purse and handed me a compact mirror. I opened it and
surveyed my neck, still trying to figure out what she could be talking about.
Then I saw it. A small, brownish purple bruise on the side of my neck.
“What on earth is that?” I exclaimed.
Ms. Terwilliger snorted. “Although it’s been a while for me, I believe the technical term is a hickey.” She paused and arched an eyebrow. “You do know what that is, don’t you?”
“Of course I know!” I lowered the mirror. “But there’s no way—I mean, we barely—that is—”
I have a hickey. I let Adrian Ivashkov give me a hickey.
We had another minute before we would reach my dorm, so I sent a quick text
to Adrian: "I have a hickey! You can’t ever kiss me again."
I honestly hadn’t expected him to be awake this early, so I was surprised to get a response: "Okay. I won’t kiss you on your neck again."
So typical of him. "No! You can’t ever kiss me ANYWHERE. You said you were going to keep your distance".
"I’m trying," he wrote back. "But you won’t keep your distance from me." "
― Richelle Mead , The Indigo Spell (Bloodlines, #3)