Chapter 43 #2
“Scars are the least of my concerns right now.” He brushes my arm. “I don’t want my past to come between us, but I don’t want to hide anything from you either.”
He hesitates.
“When Iris came to my room, she wasn’t subtle. She was naked, and her hands were everywhere, but I stopped her as quickly as I could.”
The seriousness in his voice echoes deep in my chest.
“I would never betray you, Max. And I would never treat you like you’re expendable. Never. What happened earlier in the throne room? Why did you pull away so suddenly?”
I shrug, holding pressure on the gash and using my other hand to wipe as much dried blood as I can from his chest and neck with one of the wet rags. “You were being pushy.”
“No, that’s not it.”
My cheeks burn. “Is it so hard to believe I didn’t want to have sex with you?”
“Tell me the truth, whatever it is,” he pleads.
Him and his damn insight.
I finally tape the gauzy fabric in place. There’s no way for me to properly clean the wound or switch out the dressing, so the best I can do for the time being is stop the bleeding.
“The mirrors creeped me out,” I admit. “And I felt... I felt like we were being watched.”
A sigh escapes him. “That makes sense. And I admit, I was being a little pushy.”
My lips quirk. “Try a lot. Also, I walked in on Iris and your father fucking on the throne right before dinner. That made it a lot creepier.”
He half-chokes at that. “Iris and my father?”
“Yep.” I spin around and grab the top of the alcove, readying myself to climb back down into the secret passage.
“Why did she come on to me, then?” he asks, sounding a little affronted.
Maybe even jealous.
“Why did you turn her away?” I quip, my annoyance coming back full force. “She clearly remembers how to please you.”
His voice hardens. “Do you even have to ask?”
I pause with my bottom lip tucked between my teeth. I shouldn’t have said that. For the first time since we stepped into Faerie, he sounds genuinely angry.
“You think she could take your place in my bed? In my heart?” He grabs my shoulder and spins me around. “You think I’m as feeble as that?”
“I didn't—”
“No. Tell me, Max. Is that truly what you think of me?”
Guilt twists my insides. “No.”
“I only want you,” he says, quieter now, but no less intense. “And you know it.”
He’s inches from my lips and catches my chin gently between his index finger and thumb before I can look away.
“I love you, Max.”
“What about Willow and Iris and Beth?”
I’m jealous, damn it.
It’s petty and small and embarrassing, but every time a new woman's name gets added to the list, it feels like another stone dropped onto my chest.
He traces my bottom lip. “Give me the choice between all other women and you, and I choose you, Max. Every time.”
My pulse stutters.
“Aren’t you going to ask who Beth is?” I breathe.
“I don’t care.”
He flattens me to the stone wall and slides a knee between my thighs. “Fucking hells, that nightgown is worse than the dress. You wanted me to come to you tonight. You wanted me to sneak into your bed, find you in that, and make you see stars, yes?”
My lids close on a spark of shame. “Yes.”
He roughly pulls down my top, enough to rip the fabric, but it holds on against all probabilities. My breasts bounce out of the nightgown, an angry sound rumbling in his chest at the sight of them.
There are no mirrors now. No one is watching. The tension in my belly is almost painful as he kneels and runs his nose up my inner thigh. The underwear is sewn into the skirt, a flimsy strip of white lace covering me.
“You can’t escape me, Max. Not until I get what I want,” he growls. “And I want all of you. Forever.”
My lover is fucking filthy, but I love it. My serpent flames stir as he braces my right thigh over his shoulder and pulls the lace aside in a single, impatient motion.
“When will you stop running from me?” he breathes against my core.
I rest my head against the wall, my fingers tangled in his hair. “Never. You enjoy the chase too much.”
He chuckles, the vibrations hitting my clit with maddening warmth. “I caught you, now, little fox. See that bed over there?”
He licks me.
“Mm-mm,” I moan affirmatively.
He licks me harder.
“You could be on it right now, but you’d rather be here, in the dark, trapped between my body and the wall.
You love running from me just as much as I enjoy chasing you.
You put up a fight because it dizzies you to see how deep this goes.
You like having an alibi, but in reality, you're so addicted to me you'd let me touch you wherever I please. In a crowded tavern. In a tent we shared with your brother. Anywhere.”
He sinks one finger inside maddeningly slowly, then rubs, rubs, rubs that sensitive spot, his tongue doing sweet, awful things to me.
“Admit it.”
“Yesss.” I hiss.
“You taste so sweet, Max. Like my own fucking lotus fruit.”
I wait for his shadow to interrupt, but there’s just him and his rogue mouth eating me up from dessert.
The stones of the alcove are slick and cold, and I get no traction, no purchase, nothing to hold myself together.
I groan, too close to the edge, but he won’t let me fall.
“Oh, Ezra.”
He stops cold and climbs to his feet, abandoning my pleasure. His left hand rises to the column of my throat in a slow caress. “Say it again.”