Chapter 12 Hanne #2
The most powerful sensation struck me, like a shooting star cratered into my heart and sent shocks to every extremity, every toe and finger.
My heart danced then toppled straight onto the floor.
The surge of fear I’d felt at my proximity to a Knife still didn’t compare to the emotional turmoil he caused me.
An earthquake that could crumble a castle, a hurricane that could bring down a flying dragon.
I knew the affection in my heart was forged on a foundation of trust, but these streaks of heat in my core came from the appearance of his flesh.
The hardness of his jawline, the dark beauty in his eyes, the masculine strength that had captured Allegra’s fascination before it captured mine.
I never struggled to express my thoughts, but this man made me lose my grasp on language. “Yes.”
His eyes sharpened slightly, like that was the answer he wanted and expected. The tension continued to burn between us, and I wondered if it affected him the way it affected me. Or perhaps his experience with others had numbed him to the excitement.
“I—I’ve never done this before…” I needed to defend my hesitation, to explain why I was easily paralyzed by his stare. Why I didn’t have Allegra’s confidence. Why I didn’t know how to seduce a man like a courtesan.
“I know.”
“I kissed someone once…but that’s it.” It was an embarrassing statement, but I felt obligated to tell him he wasn’t taking on an equal partner, but an inexperienced virgin who had only explored sex in stories that shouldn’t have been in the library in the first place.
The intensity of his eyes didn’t wane in disappointment. “I don’t want you less. Whoever came or didn’t come before me doesn’t matter. My heart ached for you before my body, and now, my body desires you the way a fire yearns for a forest.”
I lost my breath.
“I will continue to yearn for you until the time is right—and I know that time is not now.”
First, there was relief—and then the overwhelming pain of disappointment.
His stare continued to burn into mine with the flames he’d spoken of. Deep inside me. Touching me in places no one had ever reached. He stepped toward me, his head tilting farther down to maintain eye contact as he moved into me.
Then he touched me.
His arm circled the small of my back. A fire against my flesh. A tremble that infected my fingertips. He moved farther in, moving his other hand to my neck, my cheek, and then deep into my hair, like he wanted to grab it.
I inhaled a sharp breath at the new sensation, being cradled and clutched at the same time, claimed by a man who wanted me to himself.
My hand went to his arm, and I felt another rush when I actively touched him, when I felt the hardness of his muscle, the warmth of his flesh.
I returned my other hand to his heart, where he’d placed it once before so I could feel it beat… feel it beat when I touched him.
He looked into my eyes, our mouths so close we could kiss.
I ached for that mouth, ached for it more as I watched him ache for me. But I was paralyzed by his touch, by his stare.
He seemed to content just to stare at me, to look into the eyes that sometimes made me self-conscious.
I didn’t notice it at the castle, but here in the Depths, I noticed the way people stared at their unusual color.
Whenever I spoke to someone, they seemed distracted, like the eyes were too disconcerting.
But I didn’t feel self-conscious now.
He cradled me closer, guiding my face into his chest as his chin rested upon my head. His hand stayed fisted in my hair, and he tightened his arm around my back, bringing me flush against him, my chest feeling a hardness that resembled a tree trunk. But it was warm. It was safe. It was right.
It was him.
I closed my eyes and felt myself drift off on the high, floating like a cloud in a peaceful sky. I stood upon my feet, but it felt effortless, like I lay in my soft bed in the castle, not a care in the world.
Fulfilling. Satisfying. Meaningful. I didn’t realize how much I’d wanted this until I had it, when I felt our bodies come together and our souls touch. A bridge formed between us, and our hearts met in the middle.
We stood that way for a long time, holding each other in the silence, pleasure in an innocent touch.
He was the one to pull away first, his eyes softer than they’d ever been before. His fingers remained deep in my hair, the strands were the reins and I was the beautiful mare. His touch started to fade as he pulled away.
In a split second, I acted on impulse and tugged him back in. Tugged him right to my lips.
His mouth landed on mine and went still in surprise.
I gave him a soft kiss, pushing through my uncertainty and absent confidence and moving my lips against his in the hope it was good enough.
Then he smiled against my mouth, not in a cruel joke, but in smitten amusement. His hand returned to my hair, and he kissed me. Really kissed me. Kissed me like…the stories I’d read. With passion and desperation, with roaming hands all over my body, with breaths that filled my lungs.
His lips parted mine, and he turned slightly, taking my mouth from another angle before he pulled my bottom lip into his mouth for a gentle bite. A move that left me breathless before he kissed me again and made me weak. His hand moved to my ass, and he squeezed it through my pants—I liked it.
Then he gave me his tongue, something I’d never experienced before. Purposeful and properly executed, the kiss felt so good. My fingers moved into his hair, and I felt the veins up his neck. I mimicked his movements and returned my tongue, and I felt his hand go to my throat and squeeze gently.
Oh fuck.
His kiss deepened as his other hand slipped under my shirt up my bare back, his warm fingers exploring my flesh before they returned to my ass. Our embrace turned breathless, the two of us burning hotter than the fire in the stone hearth.
It was the single most exhilarating moment of my life.
He was the one who ended it, because if he hadn’t, it would have gone on forever. He looked into my face for a hard moment, that same intensity back, like he wanted to take me to bed right there.
Instead, he let me go and stepped back to the door. He didn’t say goodnight or address the following day. He just let himself out, let me stand there alone with the fire to replace his warmth.
I was up early.
I didn’t sleep well the night before. I’d barely slept at all.
I could feel the mark of his kiss all over my mouth.
Feel the burn like he was still there. When I reached the Gathering, I was the only one there.
I got to work on making arrows, finding slender branches and carving them to the perfect slenderness and weight.
It was hard to recreate something I didn’t know well, but if I made something, Morco and Caius could improve it.
People woke up and joined the Gathering, and soon breakfast was served.
Now we had food to serve for every meal.
The meat would go bad soon, but if we didn’t find a substitute, the potatoes would be enough.
One of the girls serving breakfast brought me a bowl of stew even though everyone else got in line.
I told myself I didn’t care about anyone’s opinion, but now that I was accepted, I realized how much I did care. How comfortable it was not to have a target on your back, not to worry if you were a burden or a hindrance.
Caius joined me and silently ate his stew. I took it as a compliment that we didn’t talk, that we didn’t need to talk. That was how comfortable our conversation had become. He just watched me work on carving the wood into the perfect arrow.
“The babies will be here soon, right?” I asked.
“Yeah. Not much longer now.” He glanced over his shoulder to the women who sat together, all of them pregnant.
“Are you nervous?”
“It’s the circle of life.” He shook his head as he finished his bite. “My parents had me before they were killed. And I need to have a child before I’m next.”
His feelings about the matter were hard to gauge. I decided to leave it alone. Especially when I spotted Morco enter the Gathering, strong and confident, like the sickness hadn’t almost claimed his body and mind.
He acknowledged a few of the guys at the tables and spoke to a few others. He didn’t grab a bowl of stew before he headed to our table at the edge. When his eyes found mine, they stayed locked in place, like I was his only target.
My lips burned. My heart fluttered. I wanted him close but feared the proximity would only make me ache more.
He took the seat across from me, arms resting on the table, and with his eyes still on mine, he extended his hand like he had other times.
I didn’t hesitate before I placed my hand in his.
His fingers enveloped mine, and he gave me a gentle squeeze.
It was such a simple touch, but it warmed my heart and set my body on fire.
His hand continued to clutch mine as he gazed upon me, that piercing stare so intimate it seemed like no one else was there. His thumb gently grazed my skin, and he gave me another squeeze before he pulled away.
Caius continued to eat his stew and looked elsewhere, trying to act like he didn’t see us exchange the affection.
The second Morco’s hand was gone, it hurt.
Morco finally broke eye contact and looked at the bow that was strained in place farther down the table. He examined it for a while before he looked at Caius then me. “You finished it.” A tone of pride was in his voice, unmistakable.
“We’re going to let it sit for another day,” Caius said. “Make sure it holds its shape.”
“How did you get it to bend?” Morco asked.
“Heat,” Caius answered.
“And the string?” Morco shifted his gaze to me.