“Hey, come here, look at me.” A large hand cups the side of my face and guides it back to him, but I’m afraid he’ll see my nightmares reflected in my eyes if I look at him. “Otkroy svoi glaze. Poshaluysta.”
Open your eyes. Please.
Whether it’s his use of my adoptive language or the ‘please’ that does it, I draw in a shaky breath and do as he asks. “Good girl,” he says affectionately as he studies my face to get a read on me. I try desperately to hold my mask in place, but my trembling body betrays me.
“Take some deep breaths for me, sweetheart. In through your nose, and out through your mouth. Good. We’ll just breathe together for a bit. That’s it.”
Keeping his left hand cupping my face, Finn rubs comforting circles on my back with his right as I continue taking slow, deep breaths in time with his. I patch up my mental barrier and focus on the golden light in his eyes and the gentle caress of his thumb on my cheek.
Soon, the tightness in my chest eases and my heart rate returns to normal.
“Better?” he asks in a low voice.
I nod. “Sorry,” I say, embarrassed anyone other than Dmitri saw me so vulnerable. “It’s rare that that happens. I guess it just caught me off-guard.”
“I’m the one who’s sorry. I shouldn’t have pried into something so personal like that. I wasn’t thinking.”
Concern is etched into the lines of his face, and I’m surprised at how badly I want to smooth them away with my fingers, my lips. Instead, I settle for words and a reassuring squeeze on his knee.
“I’m fine,” I say with a practiced smile. Excellent. Mask is back in place. Give this girlie an Oscar. “I should probably call it a night, though. I’m still not caught up on my sleep.” When he doesn’t immediately move, I nod to my bound leg. “Would you mind? Or I can—”
His hand closes over mine where I grabbed the loose ends and he gently pulls it away. “It doesn’t matter this wasn’t a real scene. If I bind you with my rope, it’s my responsibility—and pleasure—to unbind you.”
Not trusting my voice to sound normal, I simply nod.
He begins unraveling the design in an efficient manner. Not quick or hurried, but with deliberate movements that make sure the ends of the rope don’t snap my leg when he pulls the half-hitches out. There’s a certain rhythm to the removal—unwind, pull down and through, unwind—and it’s almost just as meditative and calming as it was getting it on. “So, what was with the ‘little Darkling’ jab earlier? Are the males typically bigger than me back in Tír Tairngire?”
I laugh lightly. “It wasn’t a comment on your size, you behemoth. You were born in this realm so you have to be at least half my age.”
Finn arches a thick, dubious brow and scrutinizes me for a few seconds before replying. “I’ll make you a deal. I won’t call you princess, and you don’t call me that.”
“Deal. How old are you, anyway?”
His boyish smirk pops the twin dimples into his cheeks as he keeps his focus on undoing the futomomo. “Old enough for all the things that matter. There you go, you’re free.”
I glance down at my unbound leg, prepared to get up and head to the room, but what I see shocks me into stillness. “Oh wow, they’re…” I trail my fingertips over the marks on my thigh.
“Beautiful,” he finishes.
Before now I never would’ve thought to describe the striations left behind from tightly tied rope as beautiful. But he’s right, they are. When I start to move, he places his hands on my leg.
“Hold on,” he says. “It’s been confined for a while now. Go slow.”
His golden gaze holds mine prisoner as he carefully guides my leg down, his long fingers gently gripping my calf, and all I can think about is how they would feel touching me in more sensitive areas. My starved libido is pulsing between my thighs in time with my racing heartbeat, demanding to be fed. A wave of fiery lust rolls through me, dampening the silk covering my pussy, and betraying me with the musk-sweet scent of my arousal.
Finn’s nostrils flare as he blatantly draws the scent deep into his lungs. He exhales on a tortured hiss, his pupils nearly swallowing the darkening irises of his eyes. Somehow, we’ve closed the distance between us. He’s leaning into me, his chest against my left arm, our faces hovering mere inches from each other.
It’s probably the fact that I haven’t been with anyone in what feels like forever, but I can’t remember wanting anyone more than I want Finnian Verran in this moment. And it’s that wanting that shatters any reservations I have for messing around with a Celestial royal.
Finn's eyes hold an intense fire. Excitement ripples through me as a tantalizing shiver trips down my spine. The room pulses with anticipation, the air heavy with raw hunger.
“Now that I think about it, there’s something else besides sleep I’d like to catch up on,” I say, dropping my gaze to where the tips of his fangs tease me from behind his delectable lips.
Finn dips his head and nuzzles his nose along my cheek, keeping his lips a mere breath away from mine. When I advance, he withdraws, controlling the situation, heightening my thirst…and my impatience.
I reach up and plunge my fingers into his hair, fisting it as a mewl of frustration escapes me. Finn cups my face, his thumbs grazing my jawline. His touch sends delicious chills across my flesh, resurrecting burning desires that were forced to lie dormant for far too long.
Finally, he yields, and his urgent lips meet mine, setting my world on fire. He tastes like sweet ambrosia and expensive whiskey, and if it was possible to bottle it, it’d be the only thing I drink for the rest of my days. The forceful thrusts of his tongue demand I give him all that I have and unleash coils of electric ecstasy straight to my clit. I’m so turned on that I can feel an orgasm building without any direct stimulation. I’m so desperate for the release that I don’t even care.
Suddenly, I’m in his lap and straddling his hips. It happened so fast I don’t know which of us moved first. As I settle my aching pussy over the hard bulge in his jeans, we groan in unison and finally break our kiss to drag in much-needed air.
Growling against my ear, he palms the flesh of my ass thanks to my thong, and grinds me against the ridge of his length again and again.
“Oh, fuck, Finn, yes.” I wrap my arms around his neck, like I’m holding onto a tree in a hurricane just trying not to get swept away by the storm and ride him just like that.
“You’re like the fucking sun, you know that? You’ve been pulling me into your orbit from the first time I heard your name, and it only got stronger once I had your Armas. Since finding you, all I’ve wanted was to be around you; to bask in the warmth of your light.”
“Careful,” I pant with a smile. “You know what happened to Icarus when he got too close to the sun.”
He pulls back just enough to hold my face and stare into my eyes. “Yesli ya goryu, ya goryu.”
If I burn, I burn.
Dear gods, this male. Every time he speaks in Russian it affects me more and more. It shouldn’t. It’s not like hearing my adopted language is a taste of something exotic or that he learned it especially for me. The most logical reason is because it’s in his best interest—for multiple reasons—to forge a connection with me.
But part of me can’t help feel it’s also his way of honoring me; not the princess I was expected to be, but rather the fighter I chose to become. And that gives me all sorts of complicated feelings I can’t separate out from this conflagration of desire consuming me right now as my first orgasm in forever begins to crest.
My fingers contract with the building tension, my nails digging into his muscular shoulders hard enough to break skin. “Oh gods, Finn, I… I’m…”
