39. Basten
Chapter 39
Basten
“ L ook at you, sitting up and everything!”
An absolute vision stands in the open partition of my infirmary room, holding two steaming bowls of venison stew.
Sabine has never looked more beautiful than in a simple, soft sage gown, backlit from the hallway’s window so that her golden hair glows, with an adorable streak of ash on her chin. Only this time, she isn’t just a vision at the edge of my sight. She’s more than a dream. My heart clenches like that moth that’s finally captured its flame and lived to tell the tale—but if I’m being honest?
It’s the mouth-watering stew that makes me really groan.
My stomach growls so loudly that one of the nurses passing through the hallway flinches in surprise before continuing down the hall.
Sabine looks down and giggles.
“Get in here, you,” I order.
She perches her pretty ass on the side of my bed and sets one bowl on the side table, blowing on the other as she stirs it with a wooden spoon. My mouth fills with saliva, and I’m unsure which I’m hungrier for—Sabine or my supper.
“Slow sips. It’s hot.” She spoons a bite in my mouth, and I moan as the savory flavors of rosemary and meat burst across my tongue.
Every damn one of my muscles aches, but still, I’m perfectly capable of lifting a spoon myself. I keep my mouth shut, though, because if she wants to play nurse to me? Yes, please.
Once I’ve finished and licked the bowl, she fusses with the sheet over my bare torso. Her thumb skims the dozen new puncture-wound scars across my chest.
Her brow sinks low in concern. “How are you feeling?”
“Not dead.”
She rolls her eyes softly, gently slapping my shoulder. “Tell me truly.”
Her lips are pursed in worry, and that adorable streak of soot still marks her chin. I know that she feels guilty. She did have a thirty-point buck pin me to a tree, after all. And even though Vale’s healer was godkissed, it still fucking hurt . But I force a smile as I sit up straighter, hiding how my muscles bristle against the pain.
“I’m fine, Sabine. Fit as a damn ox. Stop worrying.” I tweak her chin to wipe away the soot, then hold up my thumb in question.
“Oh.” Embarrassed, she wipes at her chin. “I was helping Tati roast potatoes for the goldenclaws.”
“Goldenclaws like vegetables?”
She blows the hair out of her eyes with a grin. “Goldenclaws and their salads…who knew?”
She smooths her palm over my chest, still playing the nursemaid, and something awakens in my veins. Something decidedly not medical . Now that my stomach is full, a different kind of hunger is stirring.
I place my hand over hers to guide it lower on my torso, down to my navel, where the sheet sits low on my hips.
The most delicious rose color blooms across her cheeks. She glances over her shoulder at the hallway, where nurses pass every few minutes on their rounds.
“Basten, not here .”
“Close the curtain,” I bark.
“You’re recovering! You nearly died!”
I growl into her ear, “Exactly. I nearly died. And do you know what I thought of at that moment?” My breath hitches. “I thought… I don’t care about the memories Iyre stole. I don’t grieve a lost past. Not anymore.”
The words come out low as if I’m hearing them myself for the first time. The part of me that fought so long to hold onto what’s gone now falls quiet.
She waits, eyes big.
“Because now?” I continue haltingly, chest tightening, “I went to hell and back, and all I could think about was a future with you.”
A gasp cuts across her tongue. “Can we have a future…without a past?”
The question hangs between us, and for a moment, I let it. My heart still aches from what was lost, but it’s softer now, less of a gaping wound and more of just another battle scar.
A realization begins to sink in.
“Someone told me once that you live in more than memories.” I pause. “That’s the woman I want—the one here, now. That’s the only you I want. ”
She finds my shirt collar and bunches the fabric in her fist. Her lips tremble as she whispers, “Do you mean that?”
I wrap my hands around hers. “Little violet, I’ve found my faith in the unknown. I find it whenever I look at your face.”
That ache around my heart fades as I see my love for her reflected in her eyes.
I continue softly, “You’re no stranger to me—you are my heart’s other half. The Aria to my Aron. If you’ll have me, then I want nothing more than for you to tell me stories every night about how it was when we first met. The first time we spoke. If I was a damn gruff asshole. What I said when I first saw you use your godkiss.” I lower my voice, a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. “Our first kiss. The first time we…”
My voice halts as I tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. My hand lingers, my rough thumb caressing down her cheek. “I want you to tell me everything, read to me like you do those damn horses, and then? Then, I want to make new memories. I want to kiss you again and again for the first time. I want all our firsts—again.”
She places both her hands on my chest as if needing to feel the steadiness of my heartbeat to reassure her that this is real.
“That’s all I want, too. A new start. With you.”
I grin rakishly, raising my knee, nudging her closer. “We can start right now, princess. Making new memories. Let me show you how much I’ve recovered.”
I know that having sex with Sabine in a tiny, stiff hospital bed will hurt like hell, but fuck it. I can’t get her scent out of my nose. For days now, I’ve been lying here with nothing to do but imagine her warm little mouth on every part of my body that doesn’t ache.
Hell, even the ones that do.
To my delight, she doesn’t protest. My little wildcat wants me, too. She stands up and closes the curtain, hiding us from the nurses’ incessant glances, and then comes back and lays a finger across my lips.
“We’ll have to be quiet,” she whispers. “You can hear a feather land through those curtains.”
My response is to take her finger in my mouth, suck on it, then gently bite down on her knuckle.
Her eyelids flare as I hear the telltale rush of her blood thrumming through her veins.
I shove the sheet even lower to reveal the very convenient fact that I’m naked. My erection tents the sheet, straining against the thin fabric. Keeping my voice low, I order, “Pick up that pretty skirt of yours and sit on my cock.”
I crave her so badly that my bones ache. My skin tightens, tugging at the already sore scars, but the pain just further awakens my senses.
Sabine glances at the curtain again, but I grab her jaw to keep her attention on me. I lean forward—even though my body screams at me in protest—to make her forget about anything other than this kiss.
My lips claim hers with a scorching burn, and she presses hers back at me. Her hand comes up to thread through the back of my hair, nails raking against my scalp in a way that pulls a moan from deep in my throat.
She tastes like rosemary stew and violets and everything good in this world.
And I can’t fucking get enough.
I push forward to settle my mouth harder over hers, tasting and sampling, before biting down on her bottom lip. A sigh slides out from her lips as she skims her hands over my chest, careful to avoid the fresh scars. Her hips rock on the side of the bed, antsy.
Gods, I fucking love seeing her so eager.
“Straddle me,” I order. “Now.”
I shove the sheet back over my erect cock and grip her hips to guide her to take its place. She swings a leg over me carefully, fussing as she tries not to rock the bed too much as she climbs on.
Impatient, I growl, “You aren’t going to break me. Now sit on me like you mean it.”
I grind my hips upward to rub my erection against her silk panties. Her pupils dilate as she chokes on a long, throaty moan. Her hands press against my chest like she needs to hold on. Her fingers dig hard into my skin.
Fuck —now that hurts.
At my wince, she immediately pulls back with wide eyes. “Basten?”
“Don’t you dare stop.” I grip her by the throat to pull her back into a kiss.
Our lips graze together, first slowly, then more feverish. I coax her lips apart with my tongue and then slide it inside to lick the roof of her mouth.
Her thighs instinctively tighten over my hips, and I groan.
“I—” she pants. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Hurt me. Please. Hurt me.”
Her hips slowly rock against my straining cock, her body already primed for me to take her even if her worries hold her back. Breathy, she moans, “Don’t be stupid because you’re horny. We have to be careful. ”
I drag her skirt up over her ass and give the left cheek a solid slap. She yelps in surprise, her eyes wide as saucers, then claps a hand over her mouth as she glances toward the curtain.
“Slap me back,” I order, offering up my cheek.
Our hips are already rocking together, finding a steady rhythm despite the slip of fabric still forming a barrier between us. I can feel her growing wetter. It does dangerous things to me to know that she’s already gushing in anticipation.
She huffs, frustrated. Glances at the curtain.
Then slaps my left cheek hard .
The sharp sting spreads throughout my face in a way that has me choking on desire. Twisted, I know. Believe me. But that’s where my head is.
“Gods, Sabine. Can you feel what you do to me?” I grind my hips up against hers.
Her breath goes shallow, causing her breasts to tighten and lift. I slide my palms up her sides to run my thumbs along the underside of them. The tops tease me from her neckline until I can’t resist. I shove one dress sleeve down over her shoulder and free her right breast, then claim it between my teeth.
Her hips buck against mine as she lets out a moan.
“That’s it. Moan. Scream my name. I don’t care if every damn nurse in the castle hears.”
Her hands lock around the back of my neck as I tease her nipple with my tongue. Her back arches, begging me to take the sensitive bud deeper. I suck and roll it until it’s tight as a button.
I push her back by the waist to watch the beautiful flush roll across her skin.
“Sit on my face,” I growl. “I want to taste you.”
She hesitates, thumb lightly brushing against one of my scars.
I tear her hand off me, running my lips lightly over her sensitive palm as I threaten quietly, “Sit on my face, little violet, or I’ll have you on your back screaming so loudly the nurses will think you’re dying.”
Her eyelashes lower. “You’re a beast.”
Half my lips pull back in a wicked smile. I settle back against the pillow as she climbs over my torso, lifting her skirt to drape over my upper half. She holds herself up with her knees against my ears, clinging to the headboard.
Her pulse tells me she’s nervous but excited—and gods, that drives me wild.
I push her panties to the side. Then, I breathe in deeply, the sweet scent of her arousal like a wine I could drink forever. She’s so wet that I can tell from her shallow breath that she’s embarrassed, but my little wildcat has nothing to be embarrassed about. Her slickness only pushes me faster toward my need.
“I could taste you all night.” I finally give in to my throbbing need and lick along her center.
She bucks her hips as the headboard groans under her tight grip. “Gods, Basten. Don’t stop!”
“That’s it, little violet. Come on my face.”
Her trembling muscles finally give in as her climax crests, erupting from her throat as a cry she can barely muffle against her sleeve in time. I keep sucking at her clit relentlessly to milk every last twitch and throb out of her.
Spent, her thighs slacken. Panting, she gathers her skirt and sinks backward off of me to the side of the bed .
Her eyes are unfocused. Lips glistening and swollen. So damn beautiful that I never want that look to leave her face.
“Here,” I coax, pushing to my own knees to guide her to lay flat on the bed. “Be a good girl. Lay back.”
Every move makes pain ricochet throughout my body, but I clench my molars and ignore it. I take my cock in my left hand, stroking gently, so full of need that if I don’t get inside her in the next ten seconds, I might combust.
I press a hand to her shoulders to ease her down.
Still dazed from her climax, she gapes. “No—you’ll really hurt yourself, Basten. You said you wouldn’t!”
“I lied, darling. Now, get on your back. I want to watch your face this time when you come.”
Before she can pout at me again, I silence her protests with a kiss. She gives in, surrendering to her own desire, warring with my lips as she sinks back on the small mattress. I wedge my knee between her thighs, one hand going to stroke the soaked fabric of her panties.
“Are you ready for me?” I break the kiss to ask.
Her hips wiggle, her breath so shallow that she can’t speak.
I hike up her dress and take my time sliding her satin panties down her legs. Then, I take a moment to stare at her perfect pussy, glistening and ready for me to worship it.
While I watch, I rub my tip along her folds, reveling in the way my touch makes her breathe so shallow that her tits bounce. I’ve dreamed about this so many times. Taking her. Making her mine. It’s almost enough to make me believe Immortal Alessantha rearranged the world for us to be together.
But that fae bitch isn’t even awake. How do I know? Because no fae would ever let us be this happy if they had the power to stop it.
No—we have to make our own magic.
“This is how I want it,” I murmur, tenderly sweeping the hair off her face. “I always want it this simple. Just you and me.”
“You and me,” she echoes, her soft eyes swallowing me whole.
I take her slowly this time. I’ll be honest, I’m not sure my ravaged body gives me much choice. Our first time having sex in the confectionary was wild. Desperate. Sugar-coated.
Or rather, the first time for me . She’s experienced us having sex countless times. I want her to tell me about every sizzling, hair-pulling, sweat-soaked romp. But this time, there are no fireworks. No explosions. Just a steady burn that has me worshipping her with every slow thrust.
When we come, it’s together.
Eyes locked.
Both our palms pressed against one another’s mouth to keep us quiet. Our bodies tremble then melt together, limbs fitting perfectly together as I gather her in my arms.
She lays against my chest, gently tracing the circular scars from the buck’s antlers.
“Do you think you can stand? Ride a horse?” She keeps her voice a barely-there whisper, even though we’re no longer trying to muffle the sounds of our sex. Her pulse picks up as she glances anxiously at the curtain.
“When you’re ready to leave, I’ll be ready, too. Name the day.” I keep my voice low, too, though it itches at me that we both instinctively whisper.
We shouldn’t have to. Vale gave us permission to leave together. So why does the air still hold a chill like something is wrong?
“You think your father will try to stop you?” I ask haltingly, hesitant to voice my thoughts.
She twirls her hair around one finger pensively. “He can’t. If anything can be trusted in this kingdom, it’s a binding deal. He even said so himself. I know that he wants me to stay here, but he can’t force me to.”
I nod.
It kills me to see her nervous about what should be a good thing. So I try to stoke some confidence in the both of us as I cup her cheek and give a smile. “Hey. You and me? We beat the gods. We can sure as hell beat Rian Valvere.”
She smiles back at me, though it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “Now that I’m looking forward to.”
The jesting slowly bleeds off her face, and a strange distance settles into her eyes. Coldly, she murmurs, “I’m looking forward to punishing everyone who wronged me.”
The hair on the back of my neck lifts at the strange tone in her voice. But if anyone’s earned some good, solid revenge, it’s her. And I’ll happily be the sword and knife and arrow at her side, if she wants me to be.
She snaps back into the present, a renewed light in her eyes as she squeezes my hand. “Tomorrow.”
I nod. “Tomorrow, then, little violet.”
We lay in bed, holding one another until the sun sets outside. I can’t help but feel that we’re juggling the same silent hopes and fears. I’ve seen what can happen between one day and the next. The world can turn on its axis.
We may think we’re free now—but the gods may have one last trick up their sleeves.