Chapter 35 Plots and Passages #2
“I need to get this damned dress off of you,” I snarled, impatiently struggling to pop three more of the tiny, silk-covered buttons, then snarling and grabbing both sides of the dress I’d only managed to open a few inches, yanking them apart with an audible rip, sending buttons pinging across the furniture.
“Donavyn!” she gasped, horrified. “The queen’s modistes—”
“I promise you, they’ve repaired worse.”
I’d shredded the buttons from the nape of her neck, so the back gaped open down her spine, revealing the corset underneath and the hollow of her back. But with the dress already torn, there was little finesse required.
I snapped the knotted laces, yanked them free, and peeled her like a ripe fruit, until I finally had her naked to the waist and beginning to pant, because my arousal fired in the bond and increased hers.
It was mere moments to slide hands inside the thick fabric, shove the dress to the floor, and toss that hideous corset into the wall. Then, I groaned with relief at finally having her small, lithe, tortured, hot skin in my hands.
She leaned back against me, arching into my touch as I clawed hands up and down her body, devoured the soft skin at her neck, and fumbled at my own breeches.
“Lay down,” I rasped, nudging her towards the chaise—a long, backless couch that rose on one end to allow ladies in dresses to recline and bring their feet up.
As I yanked my belt free with one hand and started on my buttons, she crawled onto it and rolled onto her back. But, I caught her ankle with my free hand and stopped her.
“No, on your side,” I demanded, my voice hoarse with need.
Bren’s brows rose, but she did as I instructed, and while I tore off my clothing, she crawled up the lounge to recline on her side, her waist folding as she curved her beautiful body, one leg bent to rest on the other, and her eyes bright as she leaned her temple on one fist and looked back at me, down her own, naked form, then scanned up my body until her eyes met mine.
The fire I saw there answered my last reservation.
I didn’t hesitate, crawling onto that lounge while she squeaked in surprise when I lifted her upper leg to position myself, hurriedly straddled her lower leg and sat, wrapping her upper knee around my hip as I fell forward over her and took her with a ragged grunt.
Gasping, curled on her side, Bren lay back against the raised end of the lounge, bending one arm up behind her to grip the rolled edge and give herself leverage, baring her breasts to me, as she splayed her other hand on my stomach.
Still gripping her thigh to keep her against me, I dug my toes into the fabric of the lounge and thrust into her with a guttural groan, bent over her, watching her body—twisted and bare—flush with heat and tightening with arousal.
“Mine,” I rasped, grasping her breast and teasing her puckered nipple with my thumb, then meeting her eyes.
My hair, which I’d allowed Grace to muss, fell over my face and I saw the light flare in her eyes when I stared at her through it, then plunged into her again, gratified when her mouth dropped open and she made a small, high noise.
In this position, I couldn’t hold her so easily, but I could touch all of her, and I did, sliding hands up and down her leg, her waist, her breasts. I took her chin in my thumb and forefinger, curling over her to kiss as I took her, plunging my tongue as deeply and hungrily as my cock.
She was frantic, helpless, and needy—reaching for me, gripping the lounge for leverage, whispering my name. But she already pulsed around me and the bond crackled with our growing need.
It wasn’t only me who’d struggled staying distant tonight. Not only me who’d hated pursuing the attention of others.
Still pumping into her, though attempting to keep myself on some sort of leash, I sat back, pulling her down the lounge, hard against me, then reaching for the arm that fucker Hanson had touched and lifted it, leaning my face into her elbow, kissing and licking from her bicep to her forearm, teasing the skin with my teeth, gripping with frantic hands.
She watched me with wide eyes, avid and hungry. And impossibly, her need ratcheted up until I was groaning, gasping, panting.
“Bren, I can’t last long. I’ve needed—”
“Don’t stop,” she hushed. “I’ve been waiting.”
With a shuddering groan I let myself fall forward, bracing one hand on the back of the lounge, the other taking her chin and pulling it up so that I could kiss her again.
We were a tangle of limbs and need, and though she couldn’t truly hold me, she locked that arm behind my neck and held me in the clutch even when we broke the kiss, both of us panting, gasping, rising.
“Donavyn… Donavyn.” Her head sank back.
I couldn’t let her go, but could scarcely breathe through the need.
My mouth hovered over hers, our lips brushing, breaths mingling when they rushed.
I trembled with the battle not to come, my body singing like the string under tension, pulled too tight and quivering. It would take only the smallest—
Her head tipped back and her breath stopped, her body stiffening as her eyes rolled back in her head.
“Dear God, Bren—” I croaked as she tightened on me.
I thrust again, and again, each impact of our bodies breaking a tiny cry from her throat as she toppled over that glorious horizon.
Then her body pulsed, and I was grabbed by the nape and tossed over that edge myself, roaring and trembling, taking her in twitching, erratic jerks, filling my hands with her, frantic and needy and gloriously satisfied, all in the same breath.
And then I collapsed, my body still humming, still shaking, curling over her, one hand clawed over the rolled arm in an attempt to take some of my weight, but pressing her into that cushioned lounge as we both panted, our bodies slick and heated.
Her trembling fingers slid up my spine, then into the hair at the nape of my neck and she gripped me there, blinking and staring, searching my gaze.
“You’re mine,” I said hoarsely. Unapologetically. “If I see him touch you again—”
“Don’t think about it,” she whispered, her fingers tightening in my hair, but her thumb stroking the side of my neck. “I’m here. You’re here… this is… this is what we need.”
Eventually, we untangled, but I found myself unwilling to let her go enough even to walk to the bed, so I curled her into my chest and held her for a time, letting my body cool in the late night chill.
We didn’t speak for some time, but neither of us slipped towards sleep, either.
Eventually, I combed her hair back from her face with my fingers and tipped up her chin, making her meet my eyes.
“Tell me about Ruin. You confronted him. Had to touch him. Tell me.”
She tensed and looked away. “I don’t want to—”
“Bring the darkness into the light, Bren. Tell me.”
She took a deep breath, then locked eyes with me.
“He… He gave me the look he always had when he wanted me. And I knew it,” she said sadly.
My heart flinched, but I didn’t react. Let her keep going.
“And even so… I felt nothing but revulsion,” she said, oddly, smiling.
“He doesn’t have a grip on me, Donavyn. I didn’t think I was worried about that, but when I saw him alone and…
I didn’t trust myself. I thought maybe my body would betray me.
Or that I’d fall back into those lies about him not meaning to hurt me—that’s what I told myself for weeks.
That he loved me and wanted me. But I was na?ve.
It wasn’t true. And when I saw him, faced him…
I knew it. I knew what he was. I could have slit his throat for what he did to me.
But you know what I wanted even more than that? ”
“What?” I breathed.
“I wanted him to realize that I knew what a piece of shit he was. I wanted him to realize that he hadn’t seen what I could do—but that was his fault. And I think… I think he’s starting to. But even if he doesn’t, even if he still just sees a little farm slut—”
“Do not talk about yourself that way.”
“—it doesn’t matter, because I’m not. I felt it, Donavyn. I could touch him because I had to. And I hated it. But I did it anyway, because I had a job to do. It doesn’t matter if he knows what I’m worth. I can see it.”
“And me,” I growled. “I see you, Bren.”
She smiled. Her eyes shone with unshed tears, but she beamed.
“I know. And then… then I told him what he was. I told him what I’d do to him if he touched any woman here against her will.
I didn’t let him tell me I was wrong. I didn’t waver.
I told him exactly what he was, and that even if he fooled other people, he didn’t fool me.
And then I made him doubt himself and… God, it felt so good, Donavyn.
I thought when I had to be here alone after leaving you that I’d be afraid. But I was ecstatic.”
Her tears spilled over, but I could feel the delight in her, the relief, the joy. They were ultimately happy tears—grieving what she’d been, the lies she’d believed, but no longer doubting herself for them.
“We’re going to get him, Donavyn,” she whispered. “Him and whoever’s working with him. We’re going to beat these assholes.”
“Yes, we are.” I growled, stroking her face and breathing easily for the first time since she’d been late to the banquet hall.
She went quiet for a moment, then met my eyes again. “Was I wrong to tell him all that, though?” she whispered. “It felt so right. The way to get him off balance and make him move. But I have thought about it while I was waiting and I realized… I gave something up that we can’t take back.”
I shook my head. “No, I agree. It was only a matter of time until he learned the truth. And now he’s motivated to send another message, which opens a door for us.”
“Would you tell me? I know you were worried about me with him. Would you tell me if I got it wrong? Because you shouldn’t be kind. I’m strong enough, Donavyn. I want to get this right. If I did the wrong thing, I need to know so I can choose differently next time—”
I shushed her, and kissed her, and shook my head.
“You did nothing wrong. You measured a situation, and you used it. I would have done the same in your shoes. Voski told me how well you did, giving him the warning that let him find a hiding spot—he might have been uncovered without you. No, Bren. You did right. You did well.”
Her sheer delight at my approval was beautiful, and humbling. How long had it been since I’d simply wanted to do right?
As I sat up and pulled her into my arms, carried her to the bedroom to love her again, I filed that question away for later. Because it felt important.
How long had it been since I’d sought advice for the simple goal of just wanting to be better?
I suddenly wished Kgosi was close enough to reach. But when Bren slipped into the blankets of our bed, then beckoned me to join her, I thanked God that I could put the conversation off, at least until I’d filled the gaping hole of need for her again.