The Voice: A Sequel to Hwarang: The Saga of the Sooks Book #1

Chapter 22: Sookie

"Why do you call me Sookie?" she whispered that night as they lay quietly side by side in his bed.

Just then, she felt his fingers brush hers. But, though his hand stilled, he did not withdraw it. He longed to touch her. He would content himself with this minor contact.

"Because that is who you are to me. Don't you know that you're the purest thing I've ever encountered?" After a moment, he continued, "Pure kindness. Pure sweetness. Pure joy. Pure..." His voice trailed off as his eyes ignited her own. "Pure beauty," he whispered.

She closed her eyes. And he knew that she was closing him out.

"Don't do that," he rebuked her softly. "Don't hide from me. Especially when I tell you how beautiful you are."

"But I'm no—"

"That is just not true. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, right?"

"No one's ever said that."

"Maybe not. But I bet someday someone will," he grinned at her. "And I'm saying it right now. And this beholder finds you beautiful. It doesn't matter how often you contradict me; I find you more beautiful with each passing day." His eyes caressed her.

She held his gaze. But it was difficult.

"I just don't know how to receive those words," she mumbled finally.

"Then let me show you," he whispered as he rolled towards her.

And she tensed.

"Relax. I'm not going to jump on you. Mostly, I'm going to touch your face," he promised.

She blinked and gazed up at him with a shockingly vulnerable expression emanating from her countenance. It bent his heart towards her in a wild way. He leaned nearer.

"You have the cutest nose. I just adore it," he informed her in a sweet breath. Right before he planted a kiss on the tip of that splendid nose.

Her eyes fluttered shut as his lips brushed her skin. Face to face with those snowy eyelashes, he smiled against the tip of her nose.

"Do you think it's possible to kiss an eyelash?" he muttered against her nose.

Her eyes sprang open, and she went cross-eyed trying to look at him. "You want to kiss my eyelashes?"

He nodded. "Each one. They're so cute."

He watched in delight as her face suddenly flushed scarlet. "Ah, but now your cheeks and forehead are distracting me."

Her stomach flipped upside down as he turned his head and began to feather kisses across her warm cheek. She'd been about to respond verbally to him, but the touch of his lips against her skin silenced her. He was wreaking havoc with her heart. She began to gasp for air. She wasn't sure that she could endure this tender assault. Was the man trying to woo her?

If he was, he was going to win. She had no ready defense against such sweetness. So she simply relaxed, leaning back into that bed, and allowing her eyes to flutter shut again. Then she concentrated on the wonderful touch of his lips against the surface of her face. Those lips traversed one cheek before traveling across her forehead. Then they swamped her other cheek in tender kisses. The lightest brush of his lips against her skin. How was this the most intense physical sensation she'd ever endured?

Endured?

She wasn't enduring it. She was reveling in it. She wanted to turn towards him and surrender her lips to him too. She was absolutely certain that kissing him would feel divine. Like a shock of lightning traveling from Heaven into her lips. And from there, slipping all the way into her core.

He must have sensed her vulnerability, for his lips crept slowly closer and closer to her own. But they stopped respectfully a millimeter from the corner of her mouth. And simply lingered there on her cheek. Driving her wild. His breath slipping over her skin. His heart beating in time with hers. A rapid tattoo of excitement and fascination. Time stopping around them while her heart seemed to swim in a flood of his devotion.

After nearly a minute of enduring this wonderful torture, she turned her head towards him, surprising him as her lips brushed against his. Seeking his comfort. The loving of his lips against her own. And a warm ball of heat erupted in her stomach.

His arm slid around her, drawing her close to him as he bent the power of those luscious lips on her own. She melted into that kiss. And knew she was lost. The tenderness emanating from this man was more than she was armored to resist.

She could repel fierceness. She could withstand cruelty. But she was caving completely under his gentle touch. Was this what true affection felt like? Was this the power known as love?

After several sweet, soft, lingering kisses, he drew back and leaned his forehead against hers. And realized that his heart was beginning to feel whole for the first time ever.