Denial (Goblins Kiss Series Book 1)

Kiss of the Goblin Prince

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Change by Taylor Swift Mobile by Avril Lavigne You are commenting using your WordPress. You are commenting using your Twitter account. You are commenting using your Facebook account. Notify me of new comments via email. Emma has a secret. A power she cannot control. Ames Cahn is not good. He has a past. Encasing, sheathed in nothingness. Pain, shackled by power.

Power found a way. Leave a comment Trackbacks 1 Comments 3. Whitney April 26, at 9: Songlist during the creation of Denial 1. Leave a Reply Cancel reply Enter your comment here Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Email required Address never made public. Follow Cyndi Goodgame on WordPress.

Join 1, other followers Search for: But the power of Dai King is hard to resist. And when he threads his hands through her hair and pulls her in for a kiss, there is no denying it feels achingly right. After being trapped in the Shadowlands for centuries with the goblin horde a constant threat, Dai revels in his newfound freedom back in the human realm.

But even with the centuries of magic he's accumulated, he still doesn't know how to heal Amanda's daughter—and it breaks his heart. Yet for the woman he loves, he'd risk anything Kindle Book Release date: Availability can change throughout the month based on the library's budget. You can still place a hold on the title, and your hold will be automatically filled as soon as the title is available again.

The OverDrive Read format of this ebook has professional narration that plays while you read in your browser. You've reached the maximum number of titles you can currently recommend for purchase. Your session has expired. Jareth's eyes narrowed dangerously. Sometimes they're so very eager , they just willingly fall into my lap. Sarah recoiled as though slapped.

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Jareth knew she'd make him pay for it later. He reached for her in apology, but she knocked his arm away and sat back down. Jareth's mouth hardened into a thin line. Sarah thought of Mrs. Of the Fey fires slowly dying. But the note of finality rankled. Suddenly he was before her, his hands gripping the arm rests and his face rigid with anger. Their fight was such that any normal couple would have. Strip away the stolen mortals and magic, and it was as mundane as any common power struggle.

But looking at Jareth's immortal face - the hostility that sparked in his mismatched eyes - Sarah swallowed the inclination. She doubted he'd appreciate it. And she was also wise enough to know that Jareth had not fully played his hand; that he practiced restraint when it came to her. She could see him warring now - fighting his inclination to subdue. She may have powers, but he held his back. Jareth sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. Sarah chewed her lip. It would be easier to just give in. She was partly responsible for him losing the Lia Fail's magic — a renewal of power. Jareth nodded curtly, as though he expected nothing else.

And I promise you won't like it. I… I just need to time to get used to all this. You have to understand that this is still all very… new. She thought he would argue further, press his point, but she felt some of the rigidity leave his frame. He slipped an arm around her waist and pressed a kiss to her neck. And I will give you your time. So long as you realize that on this I will not change. Try to restrain your natural inclination to defy me. We'll both be happier for it. He loved her hair. He'd never tire of being able to touch her at will - of those sweet submissions. And he'd never tire of her hands on him.

Her hands, her mouth… that she just parted ever so slightly… licking her lips….

They would fight on this again, he had no doubt. His eyes flicked to her slim waist. I have other matters to attend to. It was later that Sarah noticed that Jareth disappeared on a regular basis.

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When he returned he was always silent, and always pensive. Once or twice she caught him looking at her with calculation in his eyes. As time passed, those looks often crossed to bleak. He accepted her attempts at comfort with eager arms, but was in no way forthcoming on where he went. He appeared in the Goblin Orchard - perhaps orchard was no longer the word. The trees were bare and grey. She had forgotten it even existed, though she'd once despised what it stood for. She wasn't sure how to feel about it now. Its demise unsettled her.

Jareth had said that things were put to right, but not everything, apparently.

He stood silently before the strange gnarled tree at its heart and pressed a hand against the trunk. Sarah got the impression he'd done the same many times before. When nothing happened, his face betrayed no mark of surprise. Not even shades of disappointment. If Jareth knew she watched, he gave no sign. Moons waxed and waned and it was always the same.

The fruit never bloomed. Jareth never mentioned it and Sarah never asked. Eventually his visits stopped altogether. Sarah continued to haunt it, however. At first it stemmed from morbid curiosity; it was only later that the implication truly rattled — and even then she could only guess at the meaning, or its full ramifications. On one such occasion, Sarah sat beneath the withered tree and watched the sun cross the sky, absently running a finger over her ring thoughtfully.

She pricked the tip on one of the stones, a tiny drop of blood welling. Sucking it into her mouth, she held her other hand up to the light. Perhaps it was merely the location, or just an active imagination, but the garnet setting had always reminded her of a cluster of seeds. Such a silly little bauble.

She'd once sacrificed the ring in exchange for aid. Jareth had given it back to her.

Purely on a whim, she pulled it free from her finger and pressed it into the dry earth at the base of the tree. A leap of faith, Etain had once advised. She felt the change before she saw it. The ground thrummed, and for half a second she wondered if she was going to be swallowed up again. But she watched in astonishment as lush green began to spread beneath her.

Green as the fields of Ireland. Scrambling to her feet, coils of gold wrapped their way up the trunk, twisting and knotting until they reached the outermost branches. They bloomed into leaves at first, and then into buds of every sort imaginable. It began to spread to the other trees, growing like wildfire. Consuming the grey with gold. Sarah was on the point of rushing back to the castle when she felt a familiar presence behind her.

Jareth observed silently, his eyes on the transformation around him. Jareth turned, his look considering. She may have been correct. Sarah blinked and then nodded numbly, not fully understanding but recognizing that she had done something right. The green and gold continued until Jareth and Sarah were by far the dullest part of the orchard.

At some point he'd joined her, silently threading his fingers through hers. She tilted her head up to watch him, wondering if the best gifts were the ones you didn't know you'd given. She was prosaic enough to realize what she'd done, and by extension what she was condoning, but the look of wonder on his face was enough. She'd deal with the other later. She'd never been much of a hero either, she reasoned. There'd been a vein of villain in her long before she'd regularly shared a bed with one. Jareth released her hand and moved to the tree.

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Removing his gloves, he touched his palm to the trunk. The expression on his face was breathtaking. The look he directed towards her a moment later made her toes curl. He closed the distance between them and cupped her face reverently. He kissed her lightly, his mouth surprisingly gentle. Sarah melted at his touch and parted her lips in invitation.

When he pulled back, his eyes were hooded. She looked at him in confusion but he moved away. He settled himself against the tree, arms folded languidly. A dangerous glint sparked in his eyes. There was no reason to be shy. She had nothing he had not seen — and explored thoroughly — before, but she was. Her embarrassment turned defensive. Sarah craved him - was pretty sure he'd become an addiction she could never break; a hunger she could never sate. There was little she would not give him if asked. And she was certain he knew it. That he counted on it.

She straightened her spine. Her hands betrayed her only once as they rose to the front of her gown. Slowly, she pulled the laces loose, until the bodice gaped widely, hanging from her shoulders. With a slight roll of them, it slid down her body and pooled at her feet. She smiled beneath her lashes. Jareth's jaw ticked when her hands dropped to her corset. Emboldened by his expression, she unhurriedly popped each hook free until the corset parted and joined her dress in the long grass. The thin muslin under slip ended at her knees and was secured by two simple ties on her shoulders.

Sarah took a deep breath and smoothed hands down her liberated torso — careful to brush across her breasts. If she took a few liberties, they did not go unnoticed. Sarah raised a hand to her left shoulder, a coy look on her face as she toyed with the knot, before undoing it. The strap dropped down, revealing a full, rose-tipped breast. Jareth still made no move, but she could feel the coiled tension in the air; see the restraint in his lean frame. Hand trembling slightly, she raised it to her right shoulder and repeated the motion.

The shift slipped away completely, leaving her in nothing but short pantalets.

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She flicked her long hair over shoulders, arching just a little as she did. Her hands dropped to her waist and pulled the drawstring, pausing for a moment before letting the ties slide through the fingers teasingly. The last defence fell.

The sun was warm against her skin, but the slight breeze left goose bumps in its wake. His eyes roamed freely across her bare flesh. Sarah felt her nipples tighten in response. She raised her hands to them, easing the ache. Sarah stopped a handsbreadth away from him.

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She didn't feel playful anymore. She should have felt vulnerable to be so bare before him, while he remained clothed, but it was strangely wicked. Biting back the fear, she boldly met his eyes. His hands rose to her temples and lightly traced the contour of her face, smoothing across her lips — dipping between for just a moment. Sliding down her throat and across the breadth of her shoulders, they moved forward and palmed her breasts, his thumbs brushing across her nipples teasingly.

Sarah's lids fluttered shut. She swallowed a moan of protest when they continued downwards, smoothing over her ribs, and pausing again to dip into her navel, before stopping on her hips. A hand ghosted across the curls between her thighs and she trembled. He lowered her backwards into the grass. For a moment, he merely looked at her, memorizing the sight of her laid bare in the orchard, the sun painting patterns across her smooth skin.

And then he bent his mouth to her neck, teeth grazing her throat hungrily. He worked a knee between her thighs. The feel of leather against her overly sensitive skin was strangely erotic. He caught at her lips - bruising them - before he claimed her mouth fully, tongue delving deeply. Sarah met his kiss with equal fervour, losing herself in his familiar taste; his smell beguiling. She tugged his shirt free of his pants and explored the planes of his back and his chest, using her nails to draw a visceral hiss. In punishment, he bent his head to her breasts, worrying the tender peaks between his teeth.

Sarah's eyes screwed shut at the sweet pain. A moment later she felt liquid hit the abused skin. Jareth had crushed a ripe peach above her, allowing the juices to drip freely. Before she could protest, he dropped his head back to her breasts, licking and sucking the golden pap from her flesh. Sarah thought she would scream. Jareth stifled the sound with his mouth, offering her a taste of the forbidden fruit. His hands stroked down her body, slipping between them to press against her centre.

He groaned at her wetness; at the eager parting of her thighs. His deft fingers renewed his claim, expertly easing every ache, before renewing them again. They slid within her, curling, before withdrawing cruelly. He licked his fingers clean. He replaced his fingers with his mouth — using his tongue to tease taste. With a quick adjustment he freed his length from his pants. When Sarah reached for him, he threaded his fingers through hers and forced her hands above her head, inexorably pressing them down into the earth. The unexpected sharpness made Sarah freeze.

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Jareth used that to his advantage and set a maddening rhythm, rocking into her slowly and deeply before withdrawing almost fully. The ground rasped against her back and his clothing brushed her bare skin, the dual friction heightening every sensation. The look on his face as he sheathed himself in her welcoming heat completely disarmed her. In that moment she would have given him anything he asked. Sarah hooked her legs around his hips, simultaneously trying to regain control and draw him even deeper.

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