Chapter 29 Des
Des
Des wasn’t sure where the words had come from. He felt as though he were in some strange dream, and that dream-Des had wrested
control from real-Des, doing and saying things he never would in the waking world.
It wasn’t as if he had never comforted a woman before; Daisy’s tears came as easily as her smiles. But that was akin to reassuring
a sister, a best friend. Until tonight, he would have called Aurelie more nemesis than friend, and yet the more he learned
about her, the stronger their connection grew. From her single-minded determination—wrong-headed though it may be—to her loyalty
to her ability to take even the worst news in stride, he recognized himself in her in a way he could never have expected.
The fact that she was, without a doubt, the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen didn’t hurt.
Aurelie stood with her back to him, her hair hanging in dark waves down to where the robe was tied around her waist. Tied
up like a damned present, just waiting to be unwrapped. He was desperate to see more of her, and he was also painfully aware
that if he did, he might lose his voice entirely.
She turned, tilting her chin up to look him in the eye. Her pale cheeks gleamed with tears, and hell if her skin wasn’t the softest thing he’d ever touched. Aurelie didn’t seem surprised by his nearness, though he’d approached her silently. And even more surprising, she didn’t back away.
“You can’t possibly like me, Des. Not knowing how our parents died, not knowing what I do in this very room.”
There was a challenge in her green eyes, but Des couldn’t keep his gaze from her mouth. Was this the real reason he’d come
here tonight? Was it because some part of him knew that when he turned her in a second time, she’d never forgive him? That
he’d never have the opportunity to do what he’d been dreaming of for weeks? He’d certainly never be alone with her again,
because he wouldn’t be foolish enough to give in to the temptation a second time. Not now that he knew how weak his defenses
really were when there was no one else around to stop him.
He should hate her for what she’d done. But he didn’t.
For once, he gave in to his basest, most selfish desires and pressed his thumb against that lush lower lip that had been tormenting
him for weeks, eliciting a small gasp.
Startled at his own daring, he started to pull his hand away, but she caught him, pinning his thumb in place. Her fingers
were much too small to wrap all the way around his wrist. They stared at each other for a moment, both willing the other to
step away first.
Was it possible she wanted him, too? No. She was turning his weakness to her advantage, more likely. Perhaps she believed she was manipulating him into agreeing
to her absurd scheme.
But if that were the case, he was no longer sure he cared.
With his free hand, he reached for a strand of her hair, twining it around his fingers. He was at the brink of his self-control.
If she moved at all, he was going to wrap her hair around his fist and never let go.
She stayed perfectly still, as if she knew his thoughts. But then, ever so slowly, she took the pad of his thumb between her teeth, nipping it.
Des closed his eyes against the sensation. It was such a small point of contact, and yet he felt it everywhere. Instead of
pulling away from him, she stepped closer, releasing his wrist to place her hands on his shoulders. She had to stand on her
tiptoes to do so.
Feeling as unsteady as a colt, he brought his hands to her waist, circling it easily. The silky fabric glided over the bare
skin beneath, causing all sorts of inappropriate thoughts to flood his mind. No, he could never do the things he desired with
Aurelie. She wasn’t a guard. She wasn’t even a typical civilian. She was a woman who would marry someone proper, educated.
She would dedicate herself to one man for the rest of her life. A man like Miles Viridian, that spineless scarecrow, who wouldn’t
know how to please Aurelie if his life depended on it.
But instead of shrinking from his touch, she leaned into it. She moved one hand to his neck, tugging him down in a silent
entreaty.
It was so easy to lift her and set her down on the edge of the desk, bringing her face closer to his as he moved toward her.
And then those soft lips were pressed against his, and Des’s hands were tangled in her long hair, and she was making breathless
noises that made him nearly crazy with longing.
It took all of his training as a guard, every last shred of self-control, to pull away and step back. “Aurelie,” he said,
voice strained.
She looked up at him, her robe slipping off one pale shoulder, revealing the bandage covering the raw wounds on her otherwise flawless skin.
He wanted to kill someone for allowing this to happen to her, though he knew it was her fault as much as anyone else’s.
How could she be so careless with herself?
Didn’t she realize how precious she was?
The space between her thighs was empty, as if she was waiting for him to fill it, and yet he couldn’t bring himself to step forward.
“We can’t,” he managed. The words he was supposed to say, though he’d had to tear them out of his own throat. At least he’d caught himself before it was too late.
“Why not?” she asked, looking genuinely bewildered.
Des had never been more flummoxed by a question in all his life. “You’re a lady?” he said weakly.
She tipped her head to the side and smiled. “Am I.”
“In theory,” he said, unable to fight the grin on his own face.
In response, she untied the sash around her waist, letting her robe slip off her shoulders onto the desk. Des dropped his
head back and groaned, forcing himself to look away from her. Laughing at the absurdity of this situation, of how easily he
could be undone by a beautiful woman in a silk shift. An obscenely short shift, he now realized.
She tucked her legs underneath herself until she was on her knees, bringing them nearly eye to eye. “Des. Look at me.”
He complied too easily, drinking her in, exposing himself to the shameful knowledge of how defenseless he was when it came
to Aurelie. Her shift was just transparent enough to hint at everything underneath, and something about that was even more
intoxicating than her bare skin.
“I am a grown woman. I am capable of deciding what I can and cannot do. So if you don’t want me, you simply need to say so. But don’t fall back on some vague notion of what’s proper or appropriate. We can do whatever we wa—”
He caught her mouth with his, his hands cupping her face, and he felt her smile against him. It faded as he pulled her to
him, her legs wrapping around his waist. He walked backward to the sofa until it hit his calves, sitting as gently as he could,
bringing her with him so that she straddled his lap. She giggled, reminding him of the first time they’d met.
“What’s so funny?” he asked, pressing back to meet her eyes, suddenly insecure.
“It’s nothing,” she said, catching her bottom lip in her teeth.
He somehow resisted the urge to claim that lip for himself. “You giggled at me like that once before, the first time we met.
What is it?”
Her cheeks flushed crimson. “Your . . . sword. It’s just . . . larger than I expected.”
Now it was Des’s turn to laugh.
“I like you like this,” she said, cupping one hand to his jaw. “I like you so much more than I thought I could.” She seemed
as stunned to be saying the words as he was to hear them.
“I like you, too.”
She leaned forward, her lips barely skimming his ear. “Are you certain?” she whispered, and though he thought the answer was
rather obvious, he could hear the fear in her voice.
He smiled, adjusting her on his lap, and she gasped. “Does that answer your question, Aurelie?”
She replied with another kiss, bolder this time, her tongue darting past his lips to taste him.
He sensed she’d never done this before, but she wasn’t shy and timid like he might have expected.
She was curious, studying him, her hands skimming over his muscles, her own body reacting in response to his.
If he had all the time in the world, he might have allowed her to explore him forever, because it felt so fucking good.
When she rocked against him, he inhaled sharply, already at the brink of his self-control. She smiled as she repeated the
motion, and though he was trying his very hardest to be a gentleman, he couldn’t stop himself from touching her, too. “Is
this okay?” he whispered as his hand skimmed up her side.
She nodded, her own breath hitching at the sensation. She was exquisite, soft and pliant, and yet somehow in complete control.
He buried his face in the crook of her neck, inhaling her orange-blossom scent as if he could memorize it.
And for once in his life, there was no one there to make fun of him later, to tease him for falling for the prim and proper
bookish girl. The girl who had risked her life for his. The one who made friends with demons.
The thought was like a bucket of ice water on his entire body, freezing him involuntarily.
Aurelie sensed the change immediately and sat back, her eyes searching his. “What happened? Am I doing this wrong?”
He laughed at the absurdity of her question. A few more minutes, and he might have lost himself entirely without even removing
his trousers. Not that he was going to remove his trousers. “You’re perfect,” he murmured, his stomach already clenched against the thought
of leaving her. “But I really do need to get back to the barracks. And you need to rest.” He slid the strap of her shift back
into place. “This wound won’t heal otherwise.”
She studied him for another moment, clearly distrustful, but finally she nodded and scooted herself off his lap. He closed his eyes and took in a shaky breath, willing his body into submission before he rose again.
She bent to retrieve her robe, and he was grateful when she put it back on. Otherwise he wasn’t sure he’d make it out the
door. “Can you do one thing for me, Des?”
In that moment, he would have said yes to almost anything.
“Tomorrow, can you train me how to use a sword? Whatever ends up happening with the portal, it’s going to create one hell
of a demon. And I need to know how to fight it.”
She was too brave for her own good, he thought, and she’d never be able to lift a sword with her injured shoulder. “You need
to rest and heal. Get some sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
She opened the door for him, then stopped him with a hesitant hand. “Des, what’s going to happen now?”
Did she mean with the portal, or with him? Either way, he had no idea what the answer was. And because he was as much a coward
as she was brave, he bent down and kissed her beautiful lips one last time. It was exquisitely bittersweet, knowing he’d never
be satisfied by anything less ever again. “Goodnight, Aurelie Blake.”
“Goodnight, Destroyer Whitlow.”
He returned her smile, but inside, he felt a twist of dread. Because she wasn’t wrong. Des was going to destroy this girl,
one way or another. And he was going to destroy himself in the process.