Chapter 25 #2
“You said …” Thunder cracked above them, but she ignored it as she turned to face him fully. “You said that I’m beautiful. Why? Why would you say something like that?”
Nikator blinked slowly. She waited with bated breath as he held her gaze, his sapphire eyes nearly burning her.
She wanted to look away, to tear away from that stare, and yet she couldn’t.
She didn’t miss the slight feathering of his jaw as he seemed to clench it, thinking of answer, and then parting his lips to speak. Yet no words came out.
Finally, when she thought he wouldn’t say anything more, with the smell of rain against stone and wood between them, of moss and flora, of crisp summer nights and ocean breeze, his words whispered out like a secret confession.
“Because I don’t want to pretend that I feel nothing when I look at you, Biyu.” Low. Gruff. Like he didn’t want to admit it, and yet had no choice.
Tension rippled between them and Biyu couldn’t deny that her heart skipped a few beats the more their gazes caught with one another.
In the darkness of the night, with only the silver streaks of moonlight, he appeared even more hauntingly beautiful.
His eyes were silvery-blue, the shadows played on his angular jaw and sharp features, and the way his dark clothes molded over his muscular frame had her belly fluttering unnaturally.
She really should have stood up and left.
It didn’t matter what he thought of her. It didn’t matter that her wretched heart felt something for him. It shouldn’t have mattered at all, and yet she couldn’t deny herself.
Biyu lifted a trembling hand up to him. Even seated, he was taller than her.
The seconds ticked by as she slowly placed it on his cheek.
He remained still, like he didn’t want to break the moment, and yet she could see the fire roaring inside of him.
See the way his tense body wanted to reach forward, barely constrained, nearly shaking with the need to touch her.
“Just for tonight, I don’t want to pretend, either,” she said ever so softly. It was nearly lost with the howling winds, the thunder, the beating of rain. But he heard it; she could tell by the way his breath caught. “I want you, Nikator.”
Those four simple words broke the chains of his restraint.
He slid his hand over her cheek and wove his fingers into the back of her hair, pulling her face up to his.
He captured her mouth in a passionate kiss and she inhaled sharply at the smell of ocean breeze and vanilla, of warm spices and summer breeze.
Warmth exploded over her body. She felt drunk on the kiss, the intensity that passed through the charged air between their locked lips.
He kissed her slowly, reverently, like she meant the world to him. And she let herself believe that, too.
Her eyelids fluttered shut and she grasped the front of his tunic, her thigh pressing against his.
The world narrowed in on him and everything else disappeared.
The rain. The storm. The pergola. All of it vanished like it had never been there, and the only thing that existed in that moment was his mouth pressed to hers, his hand cradling her head, and the feel of his hard muscles beneath her shaking fingers.
Her heart pounded, heat rising in her body, her limbs aching for more.
She arched into his touch, hands bunching over the material of his shirt.
A moan sounded from the back of her throat.
She pulled back from the kiss to breathe, a shuddered breath escaping from her as he trailed his warm mouth down her jaw to her throat.
He pressed a kiss there, and she gasped.
It felt so good. It felt so right.
She shouldn’t want this. She shouldn’t want him.
But every part of her warmed at his nearly searing touch. Her body betrayed her mind and she ignored everything but the beating of her heart and his.
His teeth grazed her collarbone and her hands curled over his shoulders.
“You like that, don’t you?” he murmured, tilting his head up.
His expression was heated, desire darkening his usually sharp and bright eyes.
He pulled back just enough to watch her as he slid his hand over her arm.
She trembled, gasping, until he grabbed her chin.
“Tell me you want this, Biyu. One word and I’ll stop. ”
“I already told you I wanted you,” she whispered.
“Tell me again.”
“N-Nikator—”
“I want to hear you scream my name.”
“Y-you—” She could feel the blush staining her cheeks, ears and down her throat.
Mischief and something dark played over his face and his lips curled into a cruel grin. “You’re so fucking beautiful, Princess. Now tell me you want this.”
He wanted to hear the words, he wanted to order her around.
And for some reason, she wanted to comply, to beg for this, even though he wanted it just as badly as she did.
The words were out before she could second-guess, before she could riddle her desires with logic about why she shouldn’t want this. “I want this.”
He pulled her onto his lap until she was straddling him.
She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and neck while he kissed her, hard.
All the gentle grace vanished and was replaced with desperate, crushing, feverish kisses.
Like they couldn’t get enough of each other.
Like they were pressed for time. Like they would never do this again.
He tasted sweet. She wanted to consume every bit of him.
Their mouths broke apart and ragged breaths filled the air between them.
Nikator’s hands traveled to her hair and he yanked out the hairpins restraining it.
A look passed over him as he watched, transfixed almost, as her hair tumbled down her shoulders.
A wry grin twisted his lips when he tossed the gold to the floor.
“Perfect,” he murmured, framing her face and kissing her again. “You’re so perfect.”
Biyu explored the hard planes of his chest, his biceps, his back, and her lips parted in a gasp as he gripped her waist and drew her flush against his body. She could feel everything. His desire, in particular.
Before she knew it, her shaking fingers went to the front of her dress.
Fabric rustled as she worked on undoing it.
His nails dug into her hips, his gaze mesmerized on her hands as the silk material fell over her shoulders.
Then she undid the under-robes. The material draped down to her waist and the cool night air tickled her bare chest and shoulders.
Nikator’s eyes darkened as he took in her half-naked form. His hands clenched even tighter on her and he licked his lips. She didn’t know what had possessed her to do such a thing, but she wanted him. All of him. And she wanted him to have her completely.
He rose to his feet with her in his arms in one swoop. She yelped, grasping onto him tightly, as he lay her on the wooden floor. His thighs straddled both sides of her. His mouth went to hers immediately, and she wrapped her legs around his waist.
His kisses traveled down her throat to her breasts. She arched into his touch, gasping and moaning and trembling. She’d never known how much she wanted this—how much she wanted him—until this moment, with his tongue trailing over her sensitive flesh and his hands working to rid her of her dress.
“Are you sure you want this?” he said between kisses. He grasped the side of her face, his fingers weaving into the back of her head. “I’ll stop if you tell me to.”
“I want this,” she said again. And she meant it.
He tore away the last of her dress and tossed it aside until she was completely bare for him.
She reached up and kissed him again. He put his weapons aside, one by one, in hurried motions, his gaze never straying from her.
When he took his shirt off, Biyu’s breath caught in her throat at the sight of the moonlight drenching over the hard, rippling muscles.
The burn scars looked like silvery-white patches.
He was so beautiful it ached. Every part of her throbbed to be touched by him. To be consumed, to be taken.
He kissed her again, and again, and she moaned against him. The world nearly shattered as his body moved inside her, and she clawed at his back. Pain like she hadn’t expected mingled with desire, and pleasure, and need—but then it faded, and she whispered his name, over and over.
She had never done anything like this before. She had never felt such a strong need to be with anyone. Until him. Until this moment. Until now.
Her pleasure mounted until her body trembled with release, and she clutched onto his sweat-slicked body as waves passed over her.
He released a shuddered breath as he similarly reached the precipice, and they both remained that way for a moment.
His forehead pressed against hers, and he closed his eyes.
Tears collected in her eyes and she blinked them away. An overwhelming sense of peace fell over her, so intense she wanted to weep, because how perfect had all of this been? And when would she be able to be with him like this again?
She embraced him tighter, breathing in the sweet smell of summer rain, sweat, and skin. He twisted around until his back hit the floor, and he pulled her beside him in a half-embrace, her head nuzzled against his chest. His pulse raced beneath her cheek and she shut her eyes.
Neither of them moved for a long while. The wind brushed against their bodies. Biyu inched even closer to him, her leg wrapped over one of his.
He curled a strand of her hair between his fingers and brought it to his mouth, where he placed a gentle kiss on it. A shiver ran down her spine at the small motion, and her body warmed all over again.
“I hate to admit that I’ve wanted to do that for a long, long time.” His quiet confession was almost drowned away with the howling storm.
Biyu traced the perfect muscles lining his abdomen, and then to his scars. She touched every ridge and bump. “Why do you hate to admit that?”
“You treat me like I’m a monster. Why would I want to admit to wanting you when you look at me as if I’m so disgusting?”
The words themselves were tender, almost, but his delivery was unperturbed, unbothered, and indifferent.
She couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up in her chest. It wasn’t necessarily funny, and yet she knew that if he had admitted that to her years ago, or even a few weeks ago, she would have been equally parts revolted, confused, and intrigued.
“Well, it’s safe to say that I don’t think you’re a monster.
” She lifted her shoulders, though it was awkward in her position.
“And I never did find you disgusting. Quite the opposite, actually.”
When she peeked up at him, he had one eyebrow quirked. “I find that hard to believe.”
“It’s the truth.” She pushed herself up to her elbow. “I never thought you were ugly. Or unattractive.”
“Hm.” Nikator tucked a wavy piece of hair behind her ear. His mouth twisted into a smirk. “Is it so hard for you to admit that you found me attractive?”
“I’m not admitting to anything.” She could feel her face heat up all over again, this time from embarrassment. She nestled her face into his chest so he wouldn’t see her expression, and he laughed softly, his gentle fingers tousling through her hair.
A quite lull fell over them. The rain continued to pour incessantly; Biyu wondered, briefly, how long it would last. But she found that she didn’t mind if it took all night.
She wanted to prolong this moment. The feel of his arms, his hard body against hers, their mingled breath, the moonlight flooding the both of them. She wanted it to never end.
Her eyelids shut and she listened to the steady rhythm of his heart.
It beat in tune to her own. He twirled her hair between his fingers, and then ran his thumb gently over her hips.
The peace was so quiet, even as emotions warred within her, because she had done a grave betrayal to him when she had handed Yat-sen the spell that would undo all of this.
The guilt weighed her down, even as she knew that she was doing the right thing—with her loyalties and with him.
But it didn’t change that she wanted to remain here in his arms as long as possible.
Nikator kissed the top of her head. It was so soft she almost missed it. When she peeked up at him, he was peering down at her with such possessiveness that it made her warm all over again.
He wouldn’t look at you like that if he knew what you’d done, a voice murmured in the back of her mind.
She was realizing, slowly and with mounting horror, that she was falling for him.
Biyu closed her eyes and tried to forget everything. To live in this moment. Her chest felt too tight, breathing felt too much like a chore, and there was a hollowness within her. Like someone had carved out her innards. Particularly, her heart.