“Because you want me.”
Her eyes widen and she releases a startled laugh. “I don't remember ever mentioning that.”
“You didn't have to.” Lowering my head, my voice is a deep rumble within her ear. “I can see it when you look at me. Can feel it when we kiss.” I bury my face in the crook of her neck and inhale a deep breath, returning to the lobe of her ear with a flick of my tongue. “The scent of your desire for me is so strong, I can taste it on my tongue.”
“You only asked for dinner,” she says with a more pronounced rasp, a shiver wracking her body. “Even if I am attracted to you, you must have hit your head one too many times if you believe that guarantees I'll end up in your bed.”
“Because that's where you belong. In my bed, on my tongue, on my cock.” Her hand falls limp against my chest as I drop mine to her sides, feeling her every curve as I rock into her with my hardened cock, tangible proof that this desire is mutual.
But then she suddenly pulls from my grasp and steps back. One step, two steps, three steps. Dragging all her warmth with her, she leaves me with arms still raised, holding nothing but air.
“Is that all you want from me?” she asks quietly, a raw timbre to her tone. “Sex?”
No, I want all of you. Your mind. Your body. Your very soul.
But instead of speaking my thoughts, I remain silent. A cold chill sweeps through me, tightening my chest.
She flinches – she physically flinches at my continued silence as if I’d backhanded her across the face, before she quickly composes herself. “While your offer is tempting, I think I'll pass.” Her lips spread into a brittle smile, causing that tightening in my chest to twist painfully before she turns and walks away.
Stunned. Cold. Alone. I stare silently at her retreating back, scrambling for anything to say without me having to admit more than I wish to.
“I wouldn't have asked you to dinner if that's all I wanted!” I call out, hoping I said just enough without revealing the extent of my feelings for her. But when she peers over her shoulder at me and I see the look in her breathtaking eyes, I know it’s not enough. I'll have to offer her more if I want her to stay, but I don't know if I can.
Her lips lift into a small, sad smile. Then she returns her gaze forward, continuing on the stone walkway and leaving me behind.
A whoosh drones in my ear as I watch her walk away, imagining what my life would be like if I were to let her go, never to see her again. How I would feel if I were never able to speak to her. Never able to see that sassy smirk or hear her throaty laugh, never see the fire flash within her eyes when I piss her off, and never feel the warmth that fills me when she looks at me with that small smile I know is meant for me and me alone. I don't even think about how I'd never be able to hold her in my arms again or how I would never know what it felt like to be inside her. All I can think about is how bleak and dark my life will be if she was just not there. As if she had died and I was destined to walk the world alone, forever grieving. And in this moment, I realize, as much as I don't want to admit how much I’ve come to care for her, as much as I don't want to expose myself to another, that's not a life I'm willing to live.
“I don’t laugh, Lena!” I shout.
She stops and turns to face me, her brows knitting together in confusion. “What?”
Heart galloping in my chest, I stalk towards her until the tips of my boots touch hers. “I don’t laugh.” I cup the back of her neck and tilt her head upward, forcing her to meet my heated gaze. “I don't smile, I don't play, I don't have fun. I don't feel, Lena. Not until I met you. You're the only person who can make me blind with fury in one instant, then roaring in laughter the next. Or so jealous that I’ll rip out any male’s eyes who would dare to look upon you. Or how I would burn the world to the ground if it meant it would put a smile on your face. For all but my anger, I was numb before I met you. I don't want that life again.”
That single errant hair that I've been itching to touch slips free to dangle near the corner of her eye. Reaching up, I brush the silky strands back, curling them back around her ear. My thumb caresses her jaw on my path to reclaim her nape.
“You said you wanted me to stop surviving and to live. Then help me live, Lena. Come to dinner with me.”
She watches me, saying nothing as her eyes bore into mine. The ensuing silence thickens with each moment that passes until it's all but smothering me. I was confident she felt the same way. So much so, I would’ve bet my very life on it. But the longer she remains silent, the more unsure I become. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe I wanted her so desperately, wanted us so desperately, I imagined it all. Maybe I wished for something that was never truly there.
Fear suddenly lashes out at me, wrapping around my throat and robbing me of my breath, clutching tighter and tighter as I wait for her rejection. As I imagine her removing my hands from her person, and the look of pity she'll offer before she walks away, taking a piece of me with her.
But then she slowly raises her hands and wraps her fingers tightly around my wrist, clutching me as if I’m her anchor to this world. “Okay.”
“Okay?” I repeat stupidly, sucking in a breath and hoping I didn’t imagine her words.
“Okay.” She leans into me, plastering herself against me as she nods her head. “I’d love to.”
I blow out a long breath, not giving a shit in the least how obvious my relief is. She laughs, throaty and sensual, and I’m mesmerized by the sound. Mesmerized by the sight of her teeth dragging along her bottom lip as she attempts to stifle it. And as I look down upon her, on the most beautiful face on an even more exquisite woman, I can’t help but lower my head until I share my breath with hers, pressing a soft kiss to her lips.
Swift and sweet, the kiss was only supposed to be a taste. A small sign of gratitude, but nothing more than that. Yet, when I brush her lips with mine and feel her tongue sweep along the seam of my lips, I know I must have more. More of her taste, more of her scent, more of her.
Parting my lips, her tongue strokes against mine, slow and languid as I twine mine with hers. The taste of her cinnamon, cherry, and vanilla scent blasts into me, overwhelming me in its potency and fogging my mind as I drag her into my chest. Her breast pillows beneath my chin as her soft body molds against mine. She places her palms on my chest, sliding upward to wrap her arms around my neck, and I tangle my hand in her hair, tilting her head to delve deeper within her, to consume every part of her until there's no longer me and her.
There is only us.
So soft and warm, this kiss is so different from the single kiss we shared before. That one was filled with urgency and heat, animalistic in our need for one another. There’s plenty of lust with this kiss, too; I can hardly be around her without hardening to half-mast, but whereas that kiss was more carnal, this one is tender in its passion. More affectionate. Debilitating in its need to share more than just our bodies. A kiss similar to what I would imagine a couple in love would share.
I try to shake the thought from my mind, unwilling to acknowledge anything as deep as that. But as she puffs a soft moan into my mouth, I feel a warmth travel down the bond from her to me. A raw emotion I won't put a name to that rattles me to my very core. A life altering emotion that has me clutching her tighter, refusing to ever let her go.
“Captain,” a male voice says.
Lena’s lips part from mine. But I follow, sucking on her bottom lip as she moans, her body becoming pliant once again.
The male clears his throat. “Captain, it's an urgent matter.”
Lena tears her lips from mine and pulls away, holding me back with a palm to my chest when I attempt to follow again.
With swollen lips and panting breaths, she meets my gaze with eyes glazed over in lust, looking at me like she wants nothing more than for me to fuck her right here for all to see in the Gods Garden. Instead of doing that, she loosens my grip and slides down my chest, taking a measured step back.
The moment she's outside my reach, my palms flare with glittering flames and I snarl, whipping around to face the male with a death wish, intent on ripping out his throat. But that snarl abruptly cuts off when I see the expression on his face.
“Sir, there's been a Gods Cursed attack.”
Chapter 24Darius
Bounding up the staircase, my gaze remains fixed on the depiction of Urielle on the floor-to-ceiling, stained glass window. Bronze skin, golden tresses flowing within a mystical breeze, gold jewels dotting her eyelids that feather outward to meet her hairline, and a tranquil smile tugs at her lips as she raises her arms, her palms sparking with glittering, gold magic. The Goddess of Light’s entire being swirls with power as she bestows her love and Gifts upon her immortal and fae children.
I thought Lena’s rejection of the goddess was simply bitterness on her part, her perception distorted from her own past experiences. But now that the wool has been torn from my eyes, I can see what she does, what the rest of the world has chosen to ignore.
