Read Online Touch of Passion by Susan Spencer Paul - Free Book Online
Authors: Susan Spencer Paul
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different. He didnât wish to talk but drew her into his arms and slowly, very slowly, kissed her.
And then he pulled away and looked at her, as if waiting for something to occur.
Loris had been stunned. The kiss hadnât been unpleasant, but it was strange to be touched in such an intimate manner by someone other than Kian. And, though she knew it wasnât, it felt wrong, too.
But there was no pain with Liw Nos. He kissed her again, longer this time, and then again. His hands moved over Loris gently, encouraging her to move even closer, so that she could feel the strength and warmth of his body.
Again he pulled away, breathing a little more harshly, and gazed at her.
âLiw,â she murmured. âWe shouldnât . . .â
âI love you,â he said. âI must be near you, Loris. Please. Iâll not hurt you. I would never hurt you.â
He kissed her again, more fervently, and Loris became lost in the sensual discovery of what an uninterrupted kiss could be.
She didnât know his real name, wasnât even precisely certain what he was, whether angel or demon, and yet, as he kissed her, she felt as if they were connected in some unfathomable way. There was a feeling of wholeness, of rightness . . . and of intense pleasure. If he hadnât brought the embrace to an end, she never would have done so.
âGod forgive me,â Loris whispered when heâd at last gone, her hand moving to cover her heated cheek. She wasashamed to think of her response to him. And a little frightened, too.
He couldnât come again. That was clear. It was one thing when they had only spent the nights talking, but if he came again and began to kiss her . . .
âYou mustnât let it happen, Loris,â she instructed herself firmly, gazing at her reflection in the mirror. âLiw is still so much a stranger to you, after all. Itâs terribly wrong.â
She believed herself and vowed to resist him if he came the next night. But in her heart she knew she wouldnât.
Moonlight streamed through the open window, giving enough light for Kian to see himself in the full-length mirror. As many times as heâd made the transformation, he hadnât yet grown bored of watching the changes that came over his face and coloring and clothes. It was so odd, becoming someone who didnât exist. But it was necessary.
For years he had done everything he could possibly think of to lift the curse, to no avail. He had tried to do something to make recompense for killing Gregor Foss but hadnât been able to find anyone to make recompense to. Gregor Foss had no family to aid. Nor did he have any friends. He had left behind only enemies and victims. Kian had done what he could for the victims, with some help from Malachi and Niclas, quietly using his own measure of the Seymour fortune to better their lives. But the curse hadnât been lifted.
Next, Kian had applied himself studiously to doing whatever the Guardians and his family asked of him in the way of preparing to become the next
Dewin Mawr
. He had practiced the various magical arts, learned of mysticism and astronomy and healing. He had made visits to the spirit realm under the guidance of his cousin Steffan, the most powerful mystic among the Seymours. And he had avoided getting into any trouble, especially while in London.
But none of this had been sufficient to move the Guardians to lift the curse. Kian would simply have to keep strivingand seeking. Unfortunately, he also had to continue living at Tylluan, with Loris, and find a way to keep from going mad.
He had to be near her. No, not just near, for he was close enough each day to feel the coolness toward him that the curse had placed in her heart. But she was his
unoliaeth
. His oneness.
His
, no matter how often or soundly she rejected the fact. If the curse kept her from recognizing him as her true mate while he was Kian, it didnât seem to stop her from at least
And then he pulled away and looked at her, as if waiting for something to occur.
Loris had been stunned. The kiss hadnât been unpleasant, but it was strange to be touched in such an intimate manner by someone other than Kian. And, though she knew it wasnât, it felt wrong, too.
But there was no pain with Liw Nos. He kissed her again, longer this time, and then again. His hands moved over Loris gently, encouraging her to move even closer, so that she could feel the strength and warmth of his body.
Again he pulled away, breathing a little more harshly, and gazed at her.
âLiw,â she murmured. âWe shouldnât . . .â
âI love you,â he said. âI must be near you, Loris. Please. Iâll not hurt you. I would never hurt you.â
He kissed her again, more fervently, and Loris became lost in the sensual discovery of what an uninterrupted kiss could be.
She didnât know his real name, wasnât even precisely certain what he was, whether angel or demon, and yet, as he kissed her, she felt as if they were connected in some unfathomable way. There was a feeling of wholeness, of rightness . . . and of intense pleasure. If he hadnât brought the embrace to an end, she never would have done so.
âGod forgive me,â Loris whispered when heâd at last gone, her hand moving to cover her heated cheek. She wasashamed to think of her response to him. And a little frightened, too.
He couldnât come again. That was clear. It was one thing when they had only spent the nights talking, but if he came again and began to kiss her . . .
âYou mustnât let it happen, Loris,â she instructed herself firmly, gazing at her reflection in the mirror. âLiw is still so much a stranger to you, after all. Itâs terribly wrong.â
She believed herself and vowed to resist him if he came the next night. But in her heart she knew she wouldnât.
Moonlight streamed through the open window, giving enough light for Kian to see himself in the full-length mirror. As many times as heâd made the transformation, he hadnât yet grown bored of watching the changes that came over his face and coloring and clothes. It was so odd, becoming someone who didnât exist. But it was necessary.
For years he had done everything he could possibly think of to lift the curse, to no avail. He had tried to do something to make recompense for killing Gregor Foss but hadnât been able to find anyone to make recompense to. Gregor Foss had no family to aid. Nor did he have any friends. He had left behind only enemies and victims. Kian had done what he could for the victims, with some help from Malachi and Niclas, quietly using his own measure of the Seymour fortune to better their lives. But the curse hadnât been lifted.
Next, Kian had applied himself studiously to doing whatever the Guardians and his family asked of him in the way of preparing to become the next
Dewin Mawr
. He had practiced the various magical arts, learned of mysticism and astronomy and healing. He had made visits to the spirit realm under the guidance of his cousin Steffan, the most powerful mystic among the Seymours. And he had avoided getting into any trouble, especially while in London.
But none of this had been sufficient to move the Guardians to lift the curse. Kian would simply have to keep strivingand seeking. Unfortunately, he also had to continue living at Tylluan, with Loris, and find a way to keep from going mad.
He had to be near her. No, not just near, for he was close enough each day to feel the coolness toward him that the curse had placed in her heart. But she was his
unoliaeth
. His oneness.
His
, no matter how often or soundly she rejected the fact. If the curse kept her from recognizing him as her true mate while he was Kian, it didnât seem to stop her from at least
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