Free Dark Light (The Dark Light Series) by S.L. Jennings

silence, stopping every so often to admire the red sandstone. It totally boggles me how I can be so comfortable with Dorian, a complete contradiction to my usual distrusting nature. Being in his presence feels oddly right, as if we were somehow meant to be in this moment together.
    “So you like to come here. Why?” he asks after a while.
    “I don’t know,” I say with a shrug. “I guess I’ve always enjoyed being outdoors if the weather is nice, of course. And I find the stones to be intriguing. Like, how on Earth did they end up like that? An act of God? Or something else entirely that we could never imagine? Nature is fascinating that way.” I look up and Dorian is studying me intently. Being that he’s at least 5 inches taller than my five feet four inch frame, I tilt my head upwards to meet his gaze. 
    “I find you fascinating,” he breathes. An unnamed emotion washes over his face and his expression is unreadable. It’s as if he’s trying to relay something to me but is unsure if he should.
    “Sorry to disappoint you but like I told you before, I am far from it,” I reply. My eyes drop to the ground, my own words wounding me because it’s true. “I’ve never been fascinating or interesting. I am so unbelievably ordinary, it’s a surprise that you haven’t gotten bored with me yet.” I pick up my head and mask my discontent with a rueful smile. No need to let my pessimism ruin the mood.
    We stroll upon one of my favorite sandstone formations. “Kissing camels,” I say when we stop to admire it. The red rocks have created the impression of two camels facing each other engaged in a charming lip-lock. The sight makes me grin involuntarily. When I look to Dorian to gauge his reaction, he is looking down at me, much closer than I anticipate. I am momentarily startled at his close proximity, and can feel an intense heat surge through my veins at the prospect of contact. 
    Dorian looks at me with hooded eyes and licks his lips. The sight of the pinkness of his tongue spikes my breathing and my own lips part reflexively from the excitement. As if I have given him some carnal signal, he slowly, deliberately bends his head down and places his soft, full lips on mine. They are strong and dominating yet as supple and light as satin. My mouth parts wider, welcoming his tongue to explore further. The sensation from his touch is electric and the familiar tingling that I experienced on our first encounter returns with a vengeance. From the pout of my lips down my neck, through my breasts and down in my belly, it’s spreading like wildfire. It meets its desired destination with ferocity and my pleasure counters the inexplicable prickling with its own throbbing. I’ve never felt anything like this; it’s simply amazing. It can only be best described as when hot and cold collide. Fire and ice. 
    Lost in my body’s own symphony of sensation, I hardly notice the extent this kiss has deepened. Our bodies are pressed against each other as if we have melded into one. Dorian’s hand is knotted in my hair, firmly massaging my scalp, while the other is on my lower back, pulling me closer still. My own hands roam his soft, tousled black hair and broad hard shoulders. I know we must be making a spectacle of ourselves but we’re oblivious. At least I am. Tongues intertwined in a slow, seductive dance, exploring, tasting, teasing. It could go on forever and I still could not get enough of Dorian’s succulent flavor. He tastes refreshing and cool like an ice cold drink on a hot summer’s day. Yet the current our bodies emit is pure fire and heat. The mixture is intoxicating and addicting.
    Approaching voices break our trance and we simultaneously pull away. I’m panting and flustered, looking up at Dorian in wonder. He looks oddly calm and collected, smug even, as if he knows he’s unraveled me. Shit, he knows he’s got me under his spell. But there’s no turning back now. I can’t even begin to walk away from him,