AllFreeNovel
Share Us
The fabric barely covered the tops of my breasts, and there was no hiding my desire as my nipples peaked beneath it. His fingers trailed across the silk, the pads barely brushing those aching points. Wetness coated my inner thighs as my traitorous body responded to the touch of the wicked male in front of me. I clenched them together, deluding myself into thinking he couldn’t scent me if they were closed.
I reminded myself over and over of Kazimir, hoping that the thought of him would banish my arousal for the male slowly torturing me by licking chocolate from my neck and chest. Even if Kazimir had lied to me and manipulated me…
Ruslan tore me from my internal battle once again with a wave of wispy touches down my torso and straight to my core before leaning away, taking his heat with him, and retrieving the cup of chocolate. He smeared spoonfuls up my bare thighs until the last drop hung just below the hem of fabric, and I shivered as he closed in on that spot that would be a dead giveaway. Climbing onto the couch in front of me, he framed my legs and lowered his lips to my thigh. The first drop disappeared with a flick of his tongue, and his gray eyes turned obsidian as he trailed his sinful mouth up, up, up until he licked the hint of sweetness just below the hem that seemed to drift higher of its own accord. His nostrils flared, and I whimpered as his digits drifted up either side of my outer thighs.
He knew.
With a wicked gleam, he lowered his lips to the seam of my thighs and sank his teeth into them. A cry tore from my lips, body arching off the couch and legs flaring open, baring my glistening folds to him.
“Fuck me,” he groaned, staring at my core like he’d found a precious gemstone. “You are so fucking beautiful.”
My fists clenched, and I gritted my jaw at his trick. He made to move for my core, and with one swift motion, I planted a footon his shoulder and shoved. Surprise danced across his face as he jerked back, and then he smirked. “There’s my sprite.”
He knocked my foot above his shoulder, then pinned me beneath him, my legs split far apart as he lowered his lips to my ear. “I told you I love when they fight back,” he purred. “You really are trying to entice me, aren’t you, mate?”
Without hesitation, I called magic to my hand and slapped him with all my strength. But he caught my wrist just before I made contact and yanked it above my head, white light vanishing. The heat that flooded the space between our hips was shameful, and he laughed low, the sound traveling from deep within his chest and rumbling against mine as he pressed me harder into the couch.
His nostrils flared and he ground into me with a groan. “Don’t be ashamed of your desires, sprite. That’s the beauty of embracing your darkness – you get to conquer it, to control it.”
He bent his head and captured my mouth in his, the punishing kiss stealing my breath as I tried to wiggle from underneath him. That only seemed to spur him on, and his tongue forced its way into my throat. My moan was heady, wanton, as my tongue intertwined with his, the friction between them mixed with the delectable chocolate alighting my body and sending it arching into him. He sucked my bottom lip into his mouth, nipping it lightly as he released it along with my wrist, his hand retreating to bunch the fabric of my dress higher above my core.
“Stop,” I panted, chest heaving and core throbbing.
I couldn’t let this go any further – no matter how much arousal soaked my thighs.
With a pained growl, he stilled and sat back on his heels. The fire behind us painted his tattooed chest in light and dark that shifted with each crackle and pop of the burning logs. His eyes were nearly black, and his face was strained as he tried toregain control, his teeth gritted so hard the muscles of his jaw were frenzied. His fist flew faster than I could react, and it landed with a thud on the back of the couch. My reaction was instinctual, borne from survival, and immediately I pushed against him, trying to get out from under him before he could strike me too.
He must have realized the source of my frantic energy, because he snapped back to reality with a hitched breath. “Izidora, I am so sorry, I would never lay a hand on you,” he pleaded, his eyes searching my face for any sign of fear or forgiveness.
I let him see just how fearful I was, betting that this side of him would be wracked with guilt. My hunch was correct, and he buried his face in his hands, shaking his head, his black hair tumbling forward and over his fingertips. Scrambling backward, I re-covered myself with the slip, then crouched at the opposite end of the sofa, ready to bolt, if necessary.
But Ruslan remained kneeling, face in hands, in front of me. “I’ve waited so long for you, my mate, my one true love, the person who would save me and love me no matter what. I wish you wanted me as much as I want you.”
My body went cold despite the bronze hearth at my back. Craving unconditional love was something I was intimately familiar with, and similar words had slipped from my lips in my first few weeks out of the cave. Ruslan cracked before me, and my heart dropped at the depths of his sorrow. I didn’t know much about love, but I knew how much unconditional devotion from Kazimir had healed me. As much doubt as I held about his actions, that part of us was real.
I hoped.
Ruslan too had built walls around himself as protection from whatever had happened in his childhood. Love and unconditional acceptance had changed the female who’d exited thecave, and perhaps if I could provide that to Ruslan, he would change for the better, too. Regardless of whether we were mates or not, he would understand that he could be loved.
And maybe I still needed to feel loved too, for I was far from healed from my own trauma, the nightmares still sinking their claws into me and flashbacks overtaking all reason as they transported me back to the cave.
I gingerly made my way to him, wrapping my arms around his large frame, fingertips barely touching as I embraced him. He released his hands from his face, encircling them around my waist while he buried his head in my chest. A hand smoothed back his black hair, the soothing touch seeming to relax him with each stroke. “Love and sex are not the same thing. Love is you teaching me to read your favorite book because you want to share something that is important to you. Love is flowers just because you thought of me. Love is riding in the wagon with me because I was cold. Love is revealing the parts of yourself that you would rather not have anyone else see, like when I told you about my nightmares. Love is all around you, and I will shine a light on each part that I can, for you.”
He released my waist, then lifted his head from my chest. His sharp features were softened by sadness, his red-rimmed eyes turned a pale gray as he searched my face for a single shred of love. Reaching a hand up, he tucked a lock of hair behind my ear, sighing as I didn’t flinch or pull away. “Will you sleep beside me tonight? Close to me?”
His raspy timbre held a shred of hope that I didn’t dare destroy. “I will, but I would like something more comfortable to sleep in. Can you show me the options in the closet?”
Without warning, he scooped me into his arms, stealing my breath before carrying me all the way to the massive closet filled with more clothes than I’d ever seen before – even in my room in Este Castle. Placing me on a settee, he ambled to a chest ofdrawers, pulling at a few bronze handles, peeking inside before he found what he wanted.
“Will this work?” he asked, proffering a long-sleeved tunic that looked like it would be a full-length dress on me.
“Is this yours?” The fabric was soft, and I rubbed it between my fingers, eliciting a hint of cedarwood.
“Yes, but I want you to wear it so it’s almost like I’m touching you,” he murmured, dropping his head to look at his bare feet.
Rising, I accepted his offering, allowing the soft fabric to slide over my head and cascade down my body. It fell to my knees – much preferable to the slinky silk that hid nothing. I slipped the straps off my shoulders, pulling my arms through beneath Ruslan’s shirt, then let the dress puddle on the floor. “Perfect.”
Hand in hand, he steered me to the massive bed, an epic story painted across the wall behind it. It was breathtaking, with deep, dark colors highlighting moments of ecstasy and so many tiny details that I could stare for hours and not absorb the full impact of the fresco. The bed was piled with furs, and despite the roaring hearth across the room, a chill wracked my frame. Ruslan tugged back the thick pile of furs, then slid to the middle, gesturing for me to join him after I was hit with another shiver.
