Chapter 40 A Different Kind of Pain
CHAPTER FORTY
A DIFFERENT KIND OF PAIN
ADELINE
I’m lost in the kiss. So dark and piercing, so sweet and deep. I’m caught in a storm and he’s my only tether.
It’s like I’ve never been kissed before. I’m lost in him—his taste, the feel of his lips against mine, his tongue exploring my mouth, coaxing sounds of need from me. I’m a speck of dust swirling in the void, a tiny firefly in the night.
Slowly, my senses return—his large hands gripping my waist, fingers digging into my back, loose strands of his hair tickling my face, and his heartbeat is pounding under the hands I’ve placed on his hard chest.
Sliding them upward, I cradle his jaw and he groans softly. I feel him hardening against my stomach and it’s a heady feeling. I’m the one affecting him like this. He desires me. The evidence of his arousal is impossible to miss, long and thick, hard like a slab of stone.
His kiss turns more urgent, his hands hauling me against him, slipping down to my ass, gripping it fit to bruise and lifting me until the rod of his hard cock is pressing between my thighs.
Oh Gods… It’s my turn to make a broken sound as the arousal intensifies, the pressure in my belly and the need for relief becoming all I can think of.
I want to fall with him, on the bed, on the floor, anywhere.
Fall into this heady pleasure. I let my hands drop to his shoulders and I find myself tugging on his black leather vest, on his untidy braid, on any part of him.
I need him naked so we can touch skin-to-skin; so I can see and explore every part of him.
I want to hold his cock in my hands, feel its heft, its heat, taste him… I want him inside me, filling me up, moving above me, his face contorted with want, his control shattering to a thousand pieces…
“Aline…” he grunts against my lips. “This. I imagined this with you so many times. Gods, I…”
A distant boom jerks us both.
Then dust rains over us as a fainter crack sounds overhead. A piece of rock comes crashing down, and Roan grabs me and swings me away, cursing.
The rock smashes to the floor, chipping at the intricate mosaics.
“Gods.” I yelp. “What’s happening?”
“Nothing,” he says, biting out the words through gritted teeth.
“More nothing, huh?” I glance around, my heart thumping hard, wondering what is really happening. “Should we get out? Is the library collapsing?”
“No. Not yet anyway. This… this keeps fucking happening.” His breathing is coming out harsh and short as he grips my waist and glances around. His tall brow is furrowed and a grimace twists his mouth. “Hells.”
“Roane, are you in pain?”
“Always. Even more when I’m around you, ever since you arrived.”
An echo of something Talton had said. “I see.”
“No, you don’t. And it’s a different kind of pain from the one that…” He releases me and presses the heel of his palm against his eyes. “No. Why am I telling you this?”
I wish I knew. The hot, sweet moment is broken and with a huff, I gather the long skirt of the dress, annoyed at my weakness when it comes to him. “If we aren’t about to die, then it’s time for the sanctum. You promised you’d accompany me.”
He blinks at me, his gray eyes wide and unfocused. “Like I could ever say no to you.”
I’m confused. I open my mouth to tell him he’s denied me plenty of times already. But he starts walking, and grabbing Olm’s book from the floor, I hurry after him.
At least, we’re going to look at the books. That’s the only thing that seems to be going right today. The rest is pure madness.
We hurry down the long colonnade in silence, Roane striding ahead. The silken dress whispers on the floor as I hurry after him, the fabric light as a cloud.
The dress of a goddess. Not sure I can believe that.
Then again, should I believe the rest? That he pulled this dress from a story? That he wants me? Not sure which is more implausible.
My lips still burn from his kisses, my skin tingling where he touched me, the words he spoke echoing in my head, ruining any rational thought.
“This. I imagined this with you so many times.”
Me, too. More times than I’d ever admit to.
“For all the Gods’ sakes,” Olm mutters. “Mercy.”
Unexpectedly, Roane slows down, turning and waiting for me. Why is he in such a hurry? My heart is still pounding from the way he’d held me.
“Ellin,” he whispers, reaching for me. Surprising me yet again, because I didn’t expect him to sweep me up in his arms without a word, cradling me to his chest, and resume striding toward what I hope is the sanctum.
“You don’t have to do this,” I whisper, clutching Olm’s book to my middle, gazing up at Roane’s handsome face, the hard set of his jaw, the blazing eyes.
“I enjoy it too much,” he says, that sexy roughness back in his voice. “That’s the problem.”
“Why is it a problem?”
He frowns harder. “We’re almost there.”
“Why do you always deflect my questions?”
“Why do you keep asking them?” His lips peel back. Halting, he lowers me to the floor. “You know I won’t answer.”
Shaking my head, Olm’s book in one hand, I walk to the door of the sanctum. I give it a push, but nothing happens.
I turn to find Roane watching me, a faint smirk on his mouth. “You sealed the doors again.”
“Can’t let the monsters escape.”
“Or curious humans enter, I suppose.”
His laugh is a deep rumble of thunder. “That’s right. To unseal the doors, you need the librarian’s ring. I can see you pouting. No, you can’t enter whenever you feel like it, and you can’t enter without me. Not again.”
“Unless I cut off your finger with the ring,” I quip.
His dark brows arch. “So bloodthirsty.”
“I bet it wouldn’t work, though.”
“No, it wouldn’t.”
I wait but he doesn’t move to open the door. “Will you let me inside? Or did you lie when you made the deal with me?”
“I don’t lie,” he growls.
“Of course you do. You lie all the time. What about your name?”
“What about it?”
“Why did you change it? Don’t you like the sound of Ersil?”
His shoulders stiffen. “I don’t want to talk about Ersil.”
“About yourself, you mean?” I frown. “Strange way of putting it. Do you often refer to yourself in the third person?”
“I’m a strange man.” Finally, he lifts his hand with the ring and places it on the door. The door shivers and when he pushes, it opens easily. “After you.”
Casting him one last, withering look, I enter.
“Here we go again,” Olm sighs. “Was it all a ruse to bring me back here?”
“Not everything is about you,” I grumble, marching deeper into the sanctum. The lectern glows faintly, like Roane. “It may interest you to know that there are more important things for me to worry about.”
“Like this oaf of a librarian?”
“Like just about everything about this world.”