35
Jeryn
Damn her.
First, I had lost my grip on Flare’s gift when she’d walked into the vestibule wearing that fucking outfit. Seasons, the little beast had conspired to annihilate me. Depleted lungs. Aching cock. Erratic pulse. I’d scarcely had the brains to count above the number five, much less to utter a syllable.
Second, my inability to concentrate or articulate myself every time she smiled or laughed. The prepubescent grin that kept cracking from my lips, because her joy was infectious. The pride of showing Flare this place after discovering it, of witnessing her pleasure, of sharing a table and a meal together. The urgency to touch her. At one point, I had reached out, wanting to adjust the flower in Flare’s hair when she hadn’t been looking, only to pull back at the last moment.
Third, the sight of her feasting. With each voracious bite, she had licked her fingers clean, that curling tongue hypnotizing the everlasting shit out of me.
Condemnation, I had barely kept a steady hold on my chalice. This had been the case until she’d imparted the details of her search for a hidden key, an unknown mission regarding born souls. Then and there, my focus had solidified. And therein came the fourth nail in my coffin.
She trusted me.
Flare had been withholding this information. But finally, she’d confided in me.
And now with me thoroughly disarmed, the little beast committed the final critical act. She draped her body atop mine, her warm thighs splitting around my waist, the position rucking up that infernal skirt. Like a snare, her knees steepled, caging me in.
Slick heat brimmed under her skirt. The dainty fabric of her drawers chafed my pants. Fuck, the material was so finely spun it delineated the shape of her pussy.
My cock had already grown rebellious. Although I’d been rock hard since the vestibule, my erection sprang higher, the crown pushing into Flare’s navel. For devil’s sake, I had chopped humans to pieces without batting an eyelash. Yet this female’s ass resting on my pelvis whittled me down, as though I were a pathetic juvenile receiving his first lap dance.
However, that did not render me speechless. Rather, it was her face. The softest expression I had ever known stared down, followed by the softest touch. Slanting her head, Flare drizzled her fingers down my profile.
Sense deserted me. Pain cramped my features, the sensation threatening to seal my eyes shut. Her coaxing touches had always hurt.
That beating organ in my chest accelerated. Too much and not enough.
“What are we?” she wondered.
A surplus of confounding emotions shone in her countenance. Fragile edges. Breakable feelings. I could not fathom these reactions, where they came from, or how to manage them. The only ones I recognized were desire and fear.
What were we? Allies? Friends? Lovers? Where did enemies fit in?
My degenerate hands seized the bottom of my chair, lest I should grab Flare’s hips. Out of options, I asked, “In what capacity?”
Her mouth thinned. “You’re stalling.”
“I do not stall. I don’t even waste time ripping off the bandage. Rather, I cut to the quick. At which point, my replies are rarely what others want to hear.”
“Tell me what you feel for me. I can handle it, same as I’ve always handled you.”
Her weight. Her curves. Her scent.
No fucking way could I answer this question reasonably. Not in this precarious position. And not with my aforementioned desires and fears stuffed in my mouth.
The rainfall intensified from a steady shower to a thick downpour. The deluge cascaded outside this enclosure. It slapped the ocean, where the tide had risen, starry sheets of water agitating the shoreline.
Like a repeat offender, Flare shimmied closer. Her irises melted, those eyelids fanning when the stub of her clit abraded the stem of my cock.
“I know you have feelings for me in that capacity ,” she said, then flattened a dangerous palm against my pectoral, where my pulse went rampant. “But is there more?”
She hovered, her features caught between two inclinations. Daring. Yearning. That last one, I would have trouble demolishing. I’d rather ingest arsenic than wound this little beast.
Yet somehow, I would overcome the sight of her. To fucking prove it, I arched an eyebrow. “I could make the same statement. You’re as wet as that ocean.”
A fetching shade of red suffused her cheeks. By now, she must have registered the dampness seeping from her lingerie into my pants. How intensely could I make her flush? As pink as her pussy had been when my tongue had spread it wide?
Tempted to experiment with her complexion, I added, “Your temperature rises when you’re aroused.”
She ran a digit across the smudge of blue beneath my lower lashes. “And your eyes change color.”
“Your exhalations thicken, as they had when you watched me bathe.”
Contrition deepened Flare’s skin. “You’ve watched me too.”
I had. On many occasions. Similar to castle life, privacy was a luxury here. We had writhed in the other’s presence while sick and groomed in plain sight of one another. I had raved twice in her presence. Most pertinent of all, I had lost control during the lightning rainstorm and in the medical chamber where I’d fucked her with my mouth. At this juncture, we had seen a great deal of each other.
Be that as it may, the impetuous female curled into my torso. Thus, she reminded me of one remaining appendage she hadn’t yet observed.
I slit my eyes. Usually, a mere look from me had warriors pissing themselves. But such attempts were futile here. Watching me fight to maintain composure entertained the beast, her fingers making a cataclysmic trek from my jaw to my abdomen, the effect toughening my dick.
“Do you have a remedy for that?” she asked.
“I should be so lucky,” I husked.
“Does it hurt?”
“No comment.”
“What makes it happen?”
“You cannot be serious.”
Her teasing features contorted into a scowl. Marvelous. I had vexed her. That, I could live with. Whatever was happening between us could not be categorized, but anger toward one another … That, we had down to a science.
“I was asking about the medical reason,” Flare clarified. “I know plenty about the graphic one.”
My brows rammed together. The question came out like a statement. “You’re not a virgin.”
“I’m twenty-two years old,” she reminded me, as if that justified everything.
Except she’d been imprisoned since childhood. So who the fuck had introduced her to sex?
Her expression implied she had as much experience as I did. Or rather, she assumed she had as much experience. However, my retinas were too busy detonating to conceal a forsaken thing. Notwithstanding how I’d eaten Flare alive in the chamber, experience did not stare back at her.
Flare stilled in disbelief. “You’re … you haven’t …”
“I’ve been busy,” I snarled, dismissing the matter. “Did they hurt you?”
The little beast gave a start. “I answered that already.”
Yes. When we had discovered the grotto, she’d confirmed no one had ravished her.
Nevertheless, I repeated myself. “Did. They. Hurt. You?”
“No,” she upheld. “He didn’t.”
“He,” I repeated, the pronoun drawing out my fangs.
Flare shrugged. “I don’t have a preference. Everyone is comely to me, so long as their soul is beautiful. But yes, it was a man. We shared a cell for a while.”
We had the same penchant. My limited history aside, I had no type. Intelligence attracted me, among other unique facets belonging purely to this woman.
Relief that she hadn’t been violated eased the death grip on my chair, another brutal inclination taking its place. As they had when I’d pumped my cock in the forest, images blackened the edges of my vision. Flare writhing beneath a male. Encouraging it. Enjoying it. Prior to the medical chamber, someone else had made her climax, presumably more than once.
Mine.
Again, the offensive word inserted itself into my brain.
Mine.
As though I were the least bit entitled.
Mine.
At Flare’s gasp, I registered my hands groping her hips. The unspoken word must have also surfaced on my face like a blemish.
In the candlelight, her pupils kindled. “You’re jealous,” she realized with too much enthusiasm.
“I am not jealous,” I growled. “I’m livid and plotting to commit a dozen counts of murder upon my return to Summer’s mainland.”
Rather than repulse Flare, this confession only brightened her features. “Why?”
I sidestepped the question. “Did he taste you?”
“No.”
“Did he make you come?”
“I don’t know.”
Considering Flare was no longer chaste, I had supreme difficulty believing she couldn’t tell the difference between an orgasm and a one-sided ejaculation. “Did it feel the same as it did on the night you dry-humped my cock? And in the medical chamber, did it feel the same as my mouth?”
She glimpsed my lips. “Nothing has ever felt like your mouth.”
The answer breathed life into my veins. My expression must have revealed as much, because she resurrected her earlier question. “So is there more?”
What are we? Is there more?
Dangerously, I shook my head. “Be careful what you ask for.”
“If you’re trying to intimidate me, you picked the wrong woman.”
“Indeed. I believe that’s how our relationship began.”
“Does that mean I won’t get an answer?”
“Impertinent, vexing questions,” I gritted, detesting what I was about to say. “Do you want me to desire you? Or do you want to be desired by anyone?”
Flare grimaced. “That’s a mean question.”
“I’m a mean person.”
“Not to me.”
In other words, she would not let that happen. In other words, neither would I.
This resilient female would not allow anyone to treat her abysmally. Moreover, I would rather slit my throat before reverting to my malignant self where she was concerned. Everyone else was expendable, but this woman …
This woman. My exception to every vicious rule.
“I’ll amend,” I conceded. “It’s a pertinent question. We’re stranded.”
“What does that have to do with anything?” she demanded.
Exasperation and vulnerability twisted her features. Seasons flay me, but I loathed the sight of her trembling mouth. I despised myself more for causing it.
Regardless, I pried the facts from my throat. “Your options are limited here. I’m going to question whether it’s my desire you seek, or if I’m merely a substitute.”
She glowered. “Because it would be so easy for me to do that to somebody. Is that it?”
“I did not say that. I know you wouldn’t use a person.”
“Then you should also know I don’t want just anybody!” Flare argued, punctuating the words by slamming her palms against my chest. “If that were true, and if I didn’t have any dignity, I would have fucked the hilt of your knife while you had me chained.”
I jerked her into me. “Are you saying I was the only one impacted by hate-fueled attraction back then?”
“Oh, I felt that. I just wasn’t about to surrender to it. But we’ve changed.”
“Yes. The lightning rain forced us into closer proximity, and the contact segued to lust and a round of hate-fucking. Then I broke down in the ruins, and my panic inspired your pity, which incited more lust and even more chaos.”
“You stubborn man! Always overanalyzing!” She fisted our hands together and pressed them to my heart. “This isn’t something you can define, categorize, and store on a shelf.”
Rain struck the canopy. That turbulent hand seared into my flesh, the contact ambushing me. Another inch, and her touch would sink into the black hole of my chest.
Before she could do increasing damage, I released her digits. “We’re marooned. You have no other options for a lover.”
“That goes for you as well,” she pointed out.
I would not answer that. To do so would amount to my downfall. To be honest with myself would produce a terrifying possibility. Had I been occupying my throne, swarmed by a kingdom’s worth of courtiers, there would still be no other options but her.
“Flare,” I gusted out. “You don’t want me. Not in that way.” With effort, I finished, “And I cannot want you.”
She flinched as if I’d jabbed her with a needle. “Because you think I’m a so-called ‘lowly fool.’”
“Don’t say that. My hate came from fear, because I was a coward. Now my resistance is for a different reason.”
She waited for more. I veered my gaze past the curtain of foliage, to where the starlit ocean thrashed against the shore. “I’m unskilled in expressing sentiments.”
“Then learn how,” Flare commanded.
The fire in her voice yanked my eyes back to her. “In the daylight, you’re industrious.”
She blinked. Her mouth tipped, as though on the verge of a chuckle. “I’m what?”
An embarrassed muscle rolled across my jaw. I sounded like a fucking technician. And an idiot. Furthermore, a paltry excuse for a wordsmith. That arrogant shithead who called himself Poet was a man of verse, whereas I was a man of facts. I did not possess the jester’s silver tongue.
Witnessing my humiliation, Flare swallowed her mirth. “Go on,” she implored. “Please.”
And fuck. Whenever she gave me that look, I collapsed like a deck of cards.
“In the daylight, you’re bold.” I feasted my eyes on that scorching red dress. “By the firelight, you’re brilliant. Always, you’re enduring.” Finally, my hand rubbed one of the hibiscus petals tucked behind her ear. “You have the skill to unhinge me. Your impact is significant.” Wincing, I let go of the blossom. “And I … cannot comprehend … that I merit your attention.”
The torrent fell around us. The ocean lashed against the bay.
Yet Flare’s tender voice drowned out the elements. “Was it a mistake?”
I recalled what we’d said in the medical chamber, after I sank to my knees for her. “I don’t know.”
“You’re lying.”
“Is that what you think?”
“Look around you!” She threw her hands toward the ambience. “This place, this dinner, this night. You didn’t do this because it was a mistake. You’re not jealous about my lost virginity because it was a mistake. You’re not listing my lack of options and your lack of right because it was a mistake. What you’re doing is denying the truth!”
Muttering an oath, I fastened onto her hips and pushed her backward.
“Jeryn—” Flare’s hand dove under her skirt, whipped out her dagger from the cord harnessed around her thigh, and slammed it into the makeshift table. The tip impaled a fraction of space between my spread fingers, where I’d grabbed the surface, intending to rise. Scalding me with her gaze, she finished, “—you’re not going anywhere.”
“No,” I clipped. “Unfortunately, I’m not.”
Not on this island. No matter what plans we made, departure wasn’t currently an option.
The implication sliced from my tongue. Flare’s eyebrows crinkled with rage. If actions had not discouraged her, the candor of Winter had.
Irritation, remorse, and fifty-five other catastrophic emotions laid siege to my body. I wanted her to lance me through with her weapon. I wanted her to punish me, torture me for that response. But my court was nothing, if not tactical.
I leaned forward, my breath cutting against hers. “I admire you for all the reasons I’d specified. I respect what I was too bigoted to appreciate before. But this dinner was my way of atoning for past transgressions while also granting us a reprieve from chronic stress. However, make no mistake. I don’t want to court you. I don’t want to coddle you. And I don’t want to romance you.”
Then I rubbed salt into the wound. “I want to fuck you.”
Flare went rigid. Even so, her pupils dilated. She sat there, beautiful and unattainable.
Not for me. Not mine.
So be it. “Let us be honest about what this really is,” I continued. “You’re here. I’m here. We have our appetites. That’s why I rutted with you during the lightning rain. That’s why I knelt and tasted your cunt in the medical chamber. That’s why I’m planning to make you come again. And when I do, trust me: You will know. Because your climax shall be deeper than this ocean, harder than the tide, and longer than my fucking patience. But it will not have anything to do with passion.”
Revolted with myself, I diced her so-called truth to pieces. “ That is what I feel for you.”
Fucking now. If I didn’t get out of this fucking chair now, I would lose the battle.
Taking advantage of her shock, I snatched Flare by the waist and deposited her on the opposite seat. Vaulting from my chair, I charged from the alcove. The downpour soaked my frame as I stalked to the ocean’s edge, my vision blurring and my head about to spontaneously combust.
Yet I knew. Retreat wouldn’t work. I could travel a thousand miles from here, and I would never be far enough. I would never stop feeling the brushfire of her presence.
Under the deluge, I stalled at the surf’s edge. The water sliced over my boots. Bracing my hands on my hips, I stood there.
One. Two. Three.
I turned. There she came, charging toward me like a firebolt in that fucking gorgeous dress, with that fucking gorgeous glare. Flare’s wet hair was plastered to her cheeks, the flower in her hair sagged, and her eyes blazed.
She looked freshly inflamed. Or freshly fucked.
Rough. Fast. Angry.
No. I could not escape her. In fact, nostalgia struck me as she stormed my way. How long had it been since we last feuded? We were overdue for an altercation.
“Jeryn!” she grated, getting in my face. “Talk to me!”
“We talked,” I shouted through the tempest. “You were there.”
“Admit you’re lying! Admit there’s more!”
“I can’t!”
“Why?”
“Because—”
“Why?”
“Because I’m obsessed!” I bellowed, the rain and ocean rioting around us. “I’m obsessed with everything about you! How your hands are strong one minute and gentle the next. How they grip a weapon one moment, then brush the hair of your enemy in the same breadth. How the sunlight clings to your skin, your lips pinch when you’re about to argue with me, your mouth lifts into a smile when you sleep. How you’ve endured hell for most of your life but look at this world as if it’s made of a thousand colors others can’t see. I’m obsessed with you when I shouldn’t be—because of everything I’ve told you! I’m nothing but ice! And you’re …”
I gave the fuck up, the confession ripping from my throat. “You’re the fucking sun.”
Flare paused. Her features slackened, yet her eyes did something more damning. They shimmered like crushed gold.
Droplets sat on her eyelashes and drenched her gown. My shirt adhered to my chest. We stared at each other, soaked and raw from screaming.
“You’re trapped here with a monster,” I reminded her, my voice as gruff as limestone. “You see beauty in darkness. But here, darkness is your only option.”
In any other circumstance, Flare would never choose me. How could she after everything I had done?
And that’s how I would become your greatest regret.
I had said as much to bait her. Little had I known how correct I would become.
She did not deserve such a fate. She should not have to regret anything.
Least of all me.
I moved to walk away, to vacate the premises before she opened her cursed mouth. Otherwise, I would change my mind and start this mayhem all over again. But before I could stride in the opposite direction—to who the fuck knew where—the scalpel knife at my hip disappeared.
Like a pickpocket, Flare confiscated the only thing that would get me to launch at her. She bolted, taking my weapon hostage and racing with it to the ocean. On a hiss, I shot after her.
Wading through the surf, Flare extended her arm, fixing to toss it. Patience be damned. I sheared through the waves and snatched her wrist. Knee-deep, I whipped the woman around, cinched my free arm around her waist, and crushed her wet fucking body against mine. The tide crashed into us, rivulets of water spilling from my frame onto hers.
With a jolting motion, Flare tried to jerk away. Yet I squeezed until she grunted and surrendered the blade.
I released her wrist and caught the scalpel by the hilt. My free arm remained banded around her, squashing her body against me. We panted into one another. Her irises fired, then sank to my mouth and lurched back up. That small act had my cock jumping, rising to the point of agony.
I’d hauled Flare clear off the sandy floor. Her stomach pumped, slamming against my own.
A plea lit her countenance. A quieter flame.
Fuck me to hell. My mouth tilted closer to hers, my lower lip abutting her own. She inched nearer, curling herself into me.
Anarchy flooded my veins. With a gnash of my teeth, I let her go. She stumbled in place, a wave smacking her stunned profile. Wet and too tempting to withstand, she watched me with fury and need stringing across her face.
This vision, I had no right to. The obscene, monstrous, desperate ways in which I wanted to defile her would end us both.
Unwilling to trust myself, I sheathed the blade and bade a retreat. Stalking toward the beach, I did my best to shake off the residue of Flare’s sopping body. But I could not ignore the heat of her words.
In my periphery, I caught sight of her mouth moving. Deliberately. Violently. She knew I would see the accusation. More than that, she knew I would hear it.
“You’re right,” she dared. “You are a coward.”
Fucking. Little. Beast.
With a growl, I pivoted the fuck around and shot back to her.