I reached up to touch his mask. It was so cold, despite how flushed his skin was just beyond it. My hand shook, and my breathing became shallow as I grazed the skin of his jaw. It was smooth—and hot.He wet his lips, his breathing as uneven as my own. His fingers contracted against the plane of my lower back, and I let him tug me closer to him—until our bodies were touching, and the warmth of him seeped into me.I had to tilt my head back to see his face. His mouth was caught somewhere between a smile and a wince.“What?” I asked, and put a hand on his chest, preparing to shove myself back. But his other hand slipped under my hair, resting at the base of my neck.“I’m thinking I might kiss you,” he said quietly, intently.“Then do it.” I blushed at my own boldness.But Tamlin only gave that breathy laugh, and leaned in.His lips brushed mine—testing, soft and warm. He pulled back a little. He was still staring at me, and I stared right back as he kissed me again, harder, but nothing like the way he’d kissed my neck. He withdrew more fully this time and watched me.“That’s it?” I demanded, and he laughed and kissed me fiercely.My hands went around his neck, pulling him closer, crushing myself against him. His hands roved my back, playing in my hair, grasping my waist, as if he couldn’t touch enough of me at once.
Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Thorns and Roses
feyre, high-fae, high-lord, intimate, kiss, tamlin, touching