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I want her. I want her body, mind, and soul. I want every piece, broken or whole, she's willing to trust me with. I'm completely and unquestionably hers and she doesn't even realize it.
"Strenlys," I whisper, slowly dragging my hand from her neck down between her breasts and don't stop until I find purchase on her round hip.
"Professor," she says softly, and I grip her thighs tighter. "What will you teach me tonight?"
I snap my eyes up to meet hers and catch her chin between my thumb and index finger. "I can teach you a lot of things, Princess."
"Then quit talking and show me," she challenges, a twinkle flickers in her grey eyes and I'm nearly undone by it.
I pull her close to me, so she's flush against my body and claim her lips again, palming her ass and swallowing each moan she cries out, so we don't wake anyone else in the house.
The pads of my fingers skim her bare legs and I feel the raised, healed skin of her scars from the Necropolis. A flash of fear, of panic, stirs within me when I remember that night. How I went to her room to make things right between us after our argument only to find her missing. There were signs of a slight scuffle and the undeniable scent of sweat and brimstone. For as often as I have visited Bava, I never ventured to the lava underground. I had zero interest in watching people be forced to kill each other for the entertainment of others. If I ever attended, I would try to stop the matches and I don't conduct business in Bava in hopes of changing their traditions. But with Shaye gone and the only evidence I had to locate her pointing in the direction of the Necropolis, I immediately visited Zuri and called in all my favors to pinpoint the location of the lava underground. Zuri herself wasn't certain because the entrance changed nightly due to Bavan magic wielders being able to control the earth and move underground entrances when they pleased. With great difficulty, she helped me acquire that evening's location and before I wrangled the others into rescuing Shaye, I gave Zuri money to take to the river cruiser to stop it from leaving.
The scars on her body are constant reminders that I failed to protect her, and I almost failed to save her. But they also remind me that she didn't fail to save herself. She stood up to two hulking battle worn warriors and held her ground, even going so far as throwing one into the lava with a blast of her magic. I arrived just in time to see her make her final stand, the golden shield encapsulating her, the blast of light. I had never been happier to see someone in my entire life and the pride that swelled in my chest that the spoiled, prejudice princess I kidnapped was now shakily holding her own, owning her power and getting dirty playing with the big boys in the Necropolis just about brought me to my knees.
I watched Finn use his magic after years of refusing to touch it to spare Shaye a gruesome death because Nyx hadn't made it down to the arena yet. With stolen glances between fighting armed guards and magic wielders, I watched in horror as the gondola stopped, and she couldn't hold onto Nyx's back to escape. Seeing how exhausted she was, how she fell and slammed against the gondola wall, nearly ripped a scream from my chest. She didn't have any strength left and I was powerless to help her or my brother escape the fiery fate that awaited them below.
I have to constantly remind myself that she survived, that she's scarred but alive. And now, she's in my lap, slowly unbuttoning my dress shirt. She kisses her way from my lips to my neck, down my bare chest, not seeming to care one bit about the raised scars that mar me. I throw my head back, letting her take control and explore my body, but when I feel her slide off my lap, I snap my head up to look at her and the image of her on her knees before me, squeezed between my legs, steals my breath.
Maintaining eye contact, she slips her fingers to my belt and begins to loosen it.
"I'm sure you can teach me a lot of things," she says with a rasp that hardens me. "But maybe I should show you what I already know first."
A groan escapes me but when the thought of her marrying another man spears into my mind, I realize I can't fully move forward with her until she knows for herself how she feels. Not just about me, but about Bastian as well. He's the one who has her heart and the rightful claim to call her his – but I can't imagine going back to a life without her in it. She drives me mad, wild even, but for the first time in years, I feel alive. I didn't realize I had been walking in a fog until she came and brightened everything within me.
I'm so fucked.
When I heard her crying in her sleep the night she came to my room after having a nightmare, something inside me broke. The distance I swore to maintain no longer mattered. All I wanted in that moment was to make her feel safe and to wipe every single tear that slid down her cheeks. I don't recall leaving the armchair or slipping beneath the sheets and tugging her warm body against mine, but I do remember how good it felt to hold her and pretend for one moment how it would be, if she were actually mine.
My heart raced as she sank against my chest, as if she were made to perfectly fit there. I closed my eyes and breathed her vanilla and jasmine scent, not caring that her soft white locks of hair tickled my face. I wanted to be close to her and even though I was pressed against her, I felt as if I wasn't close enough.
"Atlas." She had mumbled my name and I desperately wanted to hear her say it again.
"Yes, Princess."
"Why don't you call me Shaye?"
Because if I do, if I for go all formalities, if I tear down that wall between us, next thing I know I'll be calling you mine and I don't know how long you'll stick around after that.
Before I could answer, she asked, "Do you hate me?"
That one question unraveled me, and I was ready to tell her exactly how I felt about her, but as I lifted up on my elbow to look at her, I found she was fast asleep. She might not snore, but she certainly was chatty in her slumber. I don't know why I answered, maybe so she subconsciously knew how I felt, or maybe so I could finally speak the words out loud and get it off my chest.
"No," I whispered. "I don't hate you. Not even a little bit."
"Good," she said softly, "because I think I might be falling for you."
If only she knew I'd already fallen for her. Hard.
But she's still engaged and I'm not about to add another layer of confusion to her already twisted world.
"Strenlys," I grab her wrists before she can unzip my pants. "Wait."
Confusion slices across her face and it pains me to end the encounter between us, but I can't be selfish. I have to do what's best for her and right now, that means we have to stop. "You aren't ready for me."
"Yes, I am." She lifts up on her knees and kisses my chest. For a moment, my resolve to wait to have her, to claim her as mine, wavers.
"No," I tilt her chin up so she can meet my gaze. "The things I want to do and say to you, you aren't ready for, but I hope one day, you will be."
