Chapter 20 Hannah
Hannah
Heat pooled in my belly, and I suddenly wanted to rub my body against his.
If he didn’t touch me, I might combust. I nodded, not trusting my voice.
Something about seeing this powerful king kneeling before me and asking permission sent a flutter through my chest that had nothing to do with bruised ribs.
His hands hovered over my skin for a heartbeat before making contact.
When he touched my skin, a faint buzz vibrated and moved with his hands along my body.
His touch was clinical at first, with careful fingertips pressing gently along my ribcage, testing each bone.
His palms were warm, almost hot, and I found myself leaning into that heat despite myself.
He had large, strong hands, and I wanted to press against them and feel them more.
"Tell me if anything hurts beyond being bruised," he murmured, his attention focused on his examination. His pulse jumped in his throat, and his breathing turned shallow.
I really looked at him for the first time without the haze of cold, panic, or fury clouding my vision.
He was definitely easy on the eyes, and I couldn’t tear mine away.
Everything about him, from the sharp line of his jaw to the sleek dark indigo hair to the breadth of his shoulders, was just…
perfect. And those arms of his were ideal for snuggling and holding, especially with his shirt sleeves rolled up to the elbows and tight around his shoulders.
His taut muscles moved with practiced care, and I traced the lines of his forearms and biceps down to his chest and abdominals with my eyes before I could stop myself.
He was beautiful. Infuriatingly, impossibly beautiful in a way that made my heart ache.
His fingers pressed along my lower ribs, and I sucked in a breath. He shuddered in response.
“Did I hurt you?” His voice was a low rumble that made my core throb. Concern flashed in his eyes, then faded as he studied me. His pupils blew wide, and the lavender of his irises turned violet.
“No.” I swallowed hard. His touch sent sparks skittering through my body, lighting up places that had no business lighting up right now.
His hands stilled. “You seem to be healing well. I don’t think there’s any internal bleeding, but the pain may return.
I have a salve that will help with the stiffness and bruising, if you’ll allow me.
I put a stronger warming one on you last night, but this one is more restorative and will focus on the bruising specifically, as well as preventing additional pain. ”
“Okay.” The word came out breathier than I’d intended, and I cleared my throat. "Sure. Whatever helps."
He leaned forward and removed a small tin from a bag on the bed. When he opened it, the contents smelled like lavender, eucalyptus, and vanilla.
"Lie back," he commanded, causing inappropriate fluttering in my stomach.
I complied, settling against the furs and focusing on the beams of the ceiling.
The logs shifted again in the firepit, the flames casting dancing shadows overhead.
My heart hammered against my ribs in a rhythm that had nothing to do with injury.
Just keep breathing. It wasn’t the first time I’d been around a handsome man.
His fingers dipped into the salve, and then his hands were on me again.
The first touch made me suck in a breath.
The salve was cool at first, but his palms warmed it.
Wherever he pressed, heat bloomed and spread.
He started at my ribs, working the ointment into the deepest bruises with slow, circular motions.
His thumbs traced the spaces between my bones, pressing just hard enough to ease the tension without causing pain.
My entire body felt light, and my eyes drifted shut as his hands moved across my stomach. The broad sweep of his palms covered so much skin at once. I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from making any embarrassing sounds, but a small sigh escaped anyway.
His hands faltered for a heartbeat before resuming their work.
I cracked one eyelid open and caught him staring at my face. His expression was tense with something that looked almost like hunger. His chest rose and fell faster than before, and that muscle in his jaw was working overtime.
A small, satisfied smile tugged at my lips. Good. At least, I wasn't the only one affected by this.
He moved to my hips, and I had to fight to keep my breathing even. His fingers traced the curve of my hipbone, spreading the salve along the ugly purple marks there, and every nerve in my body seemed to light up at once. Heat pooled low in my belly, entirely separate from the warmth of the salve.
Oof, calm down. He was just treating my injuries, and I didn’t need to make this more complicated. I had to be misreading him due to my own foolish fantasies. There was nothing sensual about medical care. Nothing at all.
Except…his thumb was making slow circles on the sensitive skin just above my hip, and his other hand had splayed possessively across my stomach, and I was pretty sure neither of those things was strictly necessary for healing purposes.
I shifted, and his hands stilled.
"Am I hurting you?" His voice had dropped to something rough and low that shuddered along my consciousness and made my insides flutter.
"No." I swallowed again, forcing myself to look at him. "Definitely not hurting."
Something flickered in his eyes, dark and heated.
He held my gaze for a long moment before resuming, his movements slower now, more deliberate.
His hands traveled up my sides, thumbs brushing the undersides of my breasts with a touch that made my breath catch even through my bra.
He was watching my face, cataloging every reaction, every hitch in my breathing.
"The bruising extends higher than I realized." His voice was almost hoarse. "I should—"
"Yes." The word came out before I could think better of it. "You should."
His jaw clenched, and for a moment, I thought he might pull away.
Instead, his hands moved higher, spreading the cool salve across my collarbone, down over the swell of my breasts where smaller bruises had formed.
His touch was featherlight there, almost reverent, and I had to close my eyes against the intensity of it.
This was a terrible idea. I knew it was a terrible idea.
I'd known this man for barely a day, and most of that time had been spent being imprisoned by him, running from him, or nearly dying.
None of those things should have led to me lying almost naked under his hands while my body responded like it had never been touched before.
But damned if I could make myself care right now.
His hands moved to my shoulders, the salve warming under his palms as he worked the tension from muscles I hadn't even realized were knotted.
I let out a long breath, my body melting deeper into the mattress beneath me.
His thumbs pressed into the hollow at the base of my neck, and a sound escaped me—something between a sigh and a moan that I couldn't have stopped if I'd tried.
His fingers traveled up the column of my throat, slow and deliberate, spreading warmth as they went.
The touch could still be argued as medicinal, but the way his breath had gone ragged told a different story.
His fingertips traced my jaw, a slight tremor in them that felt like barely leashed restraint.
He stopped with his palm cupping my cheek, thumb resting just below my cheekbone.
I froze, my mouth dry and my gaze fixed on his. He stared down at me, his eyes searching my face with an intensity that made my pulse stutter.
Everything slowed, and neither of us moved. My head spun from not being able to breathe.
“Hannah…” My name escaped his lips, broken, almost pained.
I moistened my lips, still staring up at him. “Kai?”
He leaned closer then, his thumb pressing my lips apart where my tongue had just been. “Am I hurting you?” he asked again, his face mere inches from mine.
“No,” I whispered. But if he had been, I’d’ve asked him to hurt me more if it felt like this.
His lips brushed mine, featherlight at first, questioning. A shiver ran through my entire body, and the buzz jolted throughout. Then his hand slid into my hair, cradling the back of my head…and he devoured me.
The world dissolved.
His mouth was warm and tasted faintly of the whiskey he'd drunk earlier and something wild and sweet that I couldn't name. He kissed me like I was something precious… like he’d been waiting for me. His lips moved against mine with a tenderness that made my chest ache.
My fingers found the hard planes of his chest beneath his gray tunic. His heart thundered beneath my palm. He made a sound low in his throat—half groan, half growl—and the kiss deepened. His tongue swept against my lower lip, and I opened for him without hesitation.
This. This was what kissing was supposed to feel like. Fuck! He knew what he was doing.
Every kiss I'd ever had before this moment paled in comparison.
This was fire and safety wrapped together, desire and comfort intertwined so tightly I couldn't tell where one ended and the other began.
His hand tightened in my hair, tilting my head back to give him better access, and I arched up into him, not caring about the bruising.
His other hand found my waist and urged me closer until there was no space between us.
The furs slipped away entirely, and I didn't care.
All I cared about was the heat of his body against mine, the way his muscles tensed beneath my fingertips, the desperate sound he made when I scraped my nails lightly down his chest.
He broke the kiss only to trail his lips along my jaw, down the column of my throat, finding that sensitive spot where my pulse hammered wildly. His teeth grazed the skin there, and I gasped, my back arching off the furs.
"Hannah," he breathed against my neck. The way he said my name was like a prayer, like a curse, and it cracked something inside me wide open.
I pulled him back to my mouth, kissing him harder and hungrier.
My fingers tangled in his dark hair, and he groaned into my mouth as I tugged.
His hand slid down my side, over the curve of my hip, pulling my leg up around his waist. The movement pressed us together in a way that left no doubt about how much he wanted me, with the hard ridge of his dick pushing against my core.
I needed him badly.
A sharp knock struck the cabin door.
We froze, his mouth still pressed to my throat, my leg still wrapped around him. The knock came again, three hard raps that echoed through the small space.
"Your Majesty?" a muffled voice called from outside. "We tracked the flare. Is everything well?"