The Faceless Woman Emma Hamm (ebook reader screen TXT) 📖

For the first time in her life, Aisling closed her eyes and gave all control up to another person. She was not afraid, but elated. She trusted him.

His hands skimmed over her shoulders, stroking muscle and delicate bone. He lifted the weight of her hair off her one shoulder and placed it in a silken slide across the other. He dragged claws down the nape of her neck, following the bumps of bones through the fabric of her dress.

Leaning forward, his calm voice echoed in her ear, “Do you know what I thought when I first saw you?”

“Now that is a foolish girl?”

“No.” Amusement warmed his tone. “I thought, there is a woman with a raging storm inside her. The fire won’t burn her. It wouldn’t dare insult a goddess.”

When he popped the first catch of her dress, she rocked forward with a gasp.

“Steady,” he soothed, then released another catch. “I thought, they don’t know how strong she is.”

Another button, then another, each releasing with a sudden snap. Down he went until his knuckles pressed firm between the dimples of her hips.

“I thought, they don’t know how powerful she is.”

The button parted, fabric gaping open, and the tips of his fingers stroked the small of her back.

“They thought they could burn you.” A slow hiss feathered across her ribs. “They didn’t remember something born in a bonfire would only thrive inside its heat.”

It was too much. The brush of his fingers, the appreciative sounds he made, the words he was saying.

“Bran—”

“Sh,” he hushed. “I have all night with you, little witch. And I intend to use every hour.”

“I have to tell you something first.”

“In the morning. We’ll tell each other everything in the morning.”

Did he have more secrets? Were they both lying to each other in their own way?

She shook her head. “Just…know that I understand. That this face is not the one you wanted to see, and if I could change it, I would.”

He reached in front of her, slid a hand over her jaw, and tilted her face to stare back at him.

“You captivated me without a face, Aisling. What makes you think this one would deter me?”

She breathed out a ragged sigh that quickly turned into a gasp when he untied the laces of her corset. She was still fully clothed, and yet she felt him everywhere.

Her ribs expanded with much needed air. Every eyelet released more string and bared more of her skin to his gaze. It took time, enough time that her fervor cooled and she was able to think straight again.

At least until he pressed a kiss against her shoulder and hummed out a breath. “I’ve always hated these things.”

“I prefer wearing a man’s shirt.”

“I’ll see you in nothing more than mine tonight.”

“Silk?” She leaned her head against his shoulder, letting it loll to the side so she could inhale the scent of poppy and wine. “Unseelie, I think you’re spoiling me.”

She couldn’t think as his hands slipped beneath the corset and curved over her belly. He parted the stiff fabric and let it drop to the ground with a muffled thud. There was still her sleeved slip and undergarments between them, but she felt every inch of his touch.

“Allow me,” he begged.

“Please.”

With a slow, languishing slide, he pulled his hands from her torso and snuck them into the gaping back of the slip. Inch by inch, he dragged the fabric down her arms. Carefully, he tugged her hands free then lifted one to press against his cheek.

Feathers tickled her fingertips.

He turned her palm and pressed a kiss to the center, only to released her to smooth his hands down her hips and nudge her dress to the floor.

She stood naked as the day she was born, cold air brushing over her hip and belly. The wall of heat behind her disappeared as he rounded her. His eyes took in every detail, every curve, and every valley.

Aisling refused to be self-conscious. She knew her body. Understood that it was desirable, the same reason why she’d hidden it for so long. Yet the blatant admiration in his gaze still heated her.

He stepped forward, pausing only when she lifted a hand.

“I am bare while you are fully clothed.”

He arched a brow, waiting until she continued.

“Remove your clothing, Unseelie.” The order was firm, far more confident than she felt.

“Let me worship you first, my goddess.” He swept into a mock bow. “Then I shall bare all you desire to see.”

A censuring retort fizzled on her tongue as he lunged forward and took her mouth in a searing kiss. He pried her lips open with teeth and tongue, devouring her breath and pouring himself into her until she had no idea which way was up.

He backed her toward the bed, step by step, enchanting her with the strength of his body, the heat of his attentions, and the desire he stoked within her.

At the slightest of shoves, she fell back onto the pillows. Dust plumed around them and was banished with a wave of his hand. Magic sizzled from the top of her head to her toes.

She wanted to ask what spell he used, but he was on her again. His teeth worried her bottom lip, pulling and plucking until she was certain it was swollen, yet she couldn’t bring herself to care. He was an enchantment, and she the thoroughly cursed.

He stroked down her thigh, tucking a hand under her knee and drawing it up so that he could seat himself between her legs. He rocked against her, then pulled back to gasp in air.

The cords of his neck stood out as he fought against himself. He growled, “I have single-handedly ended battles, worn blood like armor, made kings tremble at the mention of my name, and no one has brought me to my knees until you.”

She slid the palm of her calloused, tattooed hand under the gaping fabric his shirt, feeling the finely sculpted muscles of his chest. She lingered on the hollow