CHAPTER SIXTY-ONE
His palm was warm and calloused and the act of holding his hand felt intimate. I liked how it connected us.
I didn t have long to enjoy the feeling, though, because we didn t go far. He led me just across the alley to a door in a small building.
What is this place? I asked.
I m not sure. Let s find out, he said. He released my hand and I curled my fingers in so that I wouldn t reach for him again.
He began lifting nearby vases, and under one he found a key. I shook my head. If only things had been that easy for me with finding the treasury key. He put it into the lock and I heard the click. He pushed the door open.
Despite it being bright outside, the main room was darkened. It was a small home that had curtains drawn over the windows. How did you know this would be empty? I asked as he walked inside.
An educated guess. They close this neighborhood down for the festival and the residents leave.
I knew that, but it didn t mean everyone followed the rules and vacated. Isn t this trespassing?
I won t tell if you don t, he said.
We re still breaking into someone s home.
You ve never had a problem breaking into places you re not supposed to before, he said, cajoling me to step inside.
He was impossible to resist. I entered and looked around. It didn t have a second floor, and so everything was in this main room. A table and two chairs, a fireplace for cooking, pots and pans hung up on the wall.
And one massive bed in the corner that seemed to draw my eye no matter where else I tried to look.
My heart thudded quickly. It got worse when Jason shut the door and I heard the lock click into place.
We were completely, utterly alone. We wouldn t be disturbed. I could stay here for the rest of the night and no one would know. My body ached with that knowledge.
He d never had a problem with kissing me passionately in public places. What would it be like in private?
Where no one could accidentally interrupt us?
Were you planning this? I asked him, feeling a little apprehensive.
How could I? he said with a small smile, putting the key on the table. I didn t know that you would find me tonight. I make things up as I go along.
His reassurance eased the knot that had been forming in my chest. I m the same way.
I know. He seemed to fill all of the space, his broad shoulders and muscled arms blocking everything else out. Even if he had planned to bring me here, I didn t think I would have minded.
Have I mentioned how much I like your green tunic? he asked. You look beautiful in it.
I don t, I responded, immediately rejecting his words. I d compared myself against Chryseis and found myself utterly lacking. I wasn t beautiful. Not like she was.
You do, he insisted. So much so that I m having a hard time restraining myself.
From what?
Instead of answering my question, he asked his own: If I asked you to stay with me tonight, would you even consider it? Allow me to have one night with you?
The desire in his voice, the questions he d asked, seared a path down my spine, exploding at the base and then spreading out to my limbs. I couldn t respond.
Because I was afraid I would say yes.
He gave me a sheepish grin and rubbed the back of his neck. I shouldn t have said that. I m sorry. I would not ask you to break your vow.
Jason might not have asked, but there was a distinct possibility that I would offer.
I m not sure you re worth getting buried alive for, I said, hoping a joke might break the tension building between us.
Probably not, he agreed. Better to refuse.
I had a sudden flash from my last dream with him. When the time comes, say yes.
Was this what that dream had meant? Had I somehow known that this moment was coming and prepared myself to accept him? To accept this?
Then, as if our souls were connected and he could hear my thoughts like I d spoken them out loud, he said, I dream of you. Almost every night.
His voice was so soft that at first I thought I d misunderstood him. You do?
Yes. And you always turn me away. It is the most frustrating thing I ve ever experienced.
At that I had to smile. I m guessing that most women don t tell you no.
He grinned back but the look in his eyes sent a shiver across my skin. Not usually.
A bit of my lust receded at the reminder that I was just one of many. Maybe it s good for you to be denied.
He came closer and my breath caught at his nearness. It is not good for me. Do you know that I wake up every night with your name on my lips, sweating, gasping, reaching for you, wanting you so badly that even my teeth ache?
My knees threatened to buckle underneath me, that image searing itself into my brain.
The muscles in his throat were working and he put his hands gently on my bare shoulders. I gasped at the contact and then I noticed that his hands were shaking, unsteady.
That had never happened before. He always seemed so sure of himself, so confident.
Was he afraid? Or was it an indication that his declaration was true, that he wanted me so badly that he shook just by being close to me?
Why can t I stay away from you? I whispered the words.
He repeated my question back to me. Why can t I stay away from you?
I asked you first.
Jason leaned in to nuzzle my hair with his nose. I don t know the answer.
And for the first time in my life, I was fine with not having a response. It was enough to be here with him.
His lips took over where his nose had been and he began to kiss the side of my head, moving his way toward my face. Everywhere he touched me, with his hands or his mouth, was hot and feverish. I wound my fingers into his tunic, gripping with all my might so that I could stay upright.
I don t know if this is a dream or if it s real, I said breathlessly.
It s very real, he murmured against my cheek. In your dreams, what do I do?
His hands had traveled down my arms and came to rest on my waist. He brought me closer to him, fitting us together.
It was difficult to speak. You make me feel lighter than air.
How do I do that?
My cheeks preemptively colored at what I was about to say. You touch me and kiss me and pleasure me.
I heard his sharp intake of breath and felt the shudder that passed through him.
Would you like me to do that to you now? His voice was hoarse, raspy, laden with desire.
My heart was going to burst out of my chest because it was beating too fast. I can t.
Now it really was like my dreams.
His hands stilled and he pulled his head back. I saw the way his eyes had darkened, his pupils blown. Where do I touch you that you like best?
It would be impossible to choose.
This is not a dream, I told myself. There would be real-world consequences to answering that question. I was dangerously close to breaking my vow. He was so tempting and somehow always seemed to appear at my greatest moments of weakness.
Or maybe he was my weakness.
Tell me what you want, he urged as he dug his fingers into my hips possessively, and I tried not to moan from the delicious pressure.
Still I didn t answer.
Do you want me to kiss you? he asked. If you don t, I ll leave now.
I had to say no to kissing. I tried to shake my head but it refused to cooperate. As did my voice. I wanted his kiss so desperately I couldn t think of anything else. It all faded away.
I moved my hands from the front of his tunic up to his neck. I made myself talk. Have you been sent to tempt me? To make me forget myself?
He shook his head, smiling wryly. I ask myself the same thing. It s like we re two flames, drawn to each other, meant to burn brightly together.
That also means we can destroy one another.
Yes, but it would not be a bad way to die, he said. I would be lying if I said I haven t imagined the softness of your skin against mine, exploring your body with my fingers and mouth and tongue. To watch you coming undone beneath me.
I didn t even know what that meant precisely, but his words turned me liquid and hot. I badly wanted what he was describing. Our strangled breathing had become loud, thick with hunger and longing.
You didn t answer my question, he reminded me.
There would be repercussions that I couldn t even begin to fathom.
I didn t care.
Kiss me, I invited.
He reached up to frame my face with his hands, and the way he gazed at me, with a reverence like I was something sacred to him, made my breathing hitch.
Then he kissed me so intently that it was bruising. He parted my lips and expertly stroked my tongue with his and this time I did moan. Lust, sharp as a sword, pierced me over and over again until I was weak.
What passed between us in dreams was insubstantial. Not quite real. Touching him and kissing him in that dreamscape did not feel like it did in real life. In person was exponentially better in every way imaginable.
You don t kiss like someone who has only been kissed a few times before this, he told me in between kisses.
As I ve told you, I m a quick study. And I had an excellent teacher.
He grinned, but that moment of lightheartedness was quickly gone as his hands ran up my back, his mouth relentless on mine.
His hands left my body and I protested against his lips, but then I heard the sound of metal hitting the floor. He was taking off his weapons. I lost count after five. I was impressed by all his hiding places and was about to ask where they were coming from, but then he was touching me again and I was lost.
He kissed me like he hadn t eaten in months and I was a table laden with all of his favorite foods. He devoured me. His lips were rhythmic, smooth, insistent while also being all consuming.
I was lost in kissing him, a flame blazing, radiating heat and pleasure but without being burned.
That wasn t accurate. Because I was burning for him-every part of me he touched, he scalded. I was afraid that no part of my body would feel like my own again. That it would always be a place that Jason had touched or caressed or kissed, because I could feel him all over me. Even when his hands and fingers moved to a new spot, that phantom imprint stayed behind.
Like he was touching me everywhere all at once.
You feel like magic, I said into his mouth.
He stopped kissing me long enough to say, So do you.
I shook my head. I m just an ordinary woman.
That reverent look was back in his eyes, and he said in a rough, fire-inducing voice, Lia, there is absolutely nothing ordinary about you.
I pulled the back of his neck down toward me so that I could kiss him, show him what his words meant to me. As he d predicted, our fires burned together, lighting up the room and my soul.
Did you still want to see me? he asked suddenly, surprising me.
What? I was confused, disoriented.
Up until the moment he reached up and undid his shoulder pin with one hand. His blue tunic fell to his waist, where his belt kept the rest of it in place.
Had I asked for this? I didn t remember doing so.
I had in my dreams. But how would he know that?
He kissed me again and I forgot my question, forgot my own name.
His skin was warm and I pushed my hands against him, backing up. I wanted to see him and touch him.
I let out a small sigh. His chest was so perfect that it should have been taken to the nearest statue maker so that they could create a mold from it. I planned on doing what he d suggested earlier-I was going to explore him with my fingers and mouth and tongue.
I mapped out the topography of his torso, so very different from my own. Fascinated, I ran my fingertips along his muscles, rewarded with his sharp intakes of breath. Those muscles quivered and then hardened under my touch.
I always felt at a bit of a disadvantage in our encounters, his experience so evident and my lack of it just as glaring. But this was making me feel like I had the power. As if I could have him on his knees, begging for my touch and my kiss.
That he wanted me every bit as much as I wanted him.
It emboldened me. I ducked my head to kiss his stomach, letting my tongue flick out to taste him there. He made a sound so guttural that it was like it had been ripped from deep in his chest.
I felt his hand at the back of my head, massaging it and holding me against him at the same time. Just like in the dream I d had of this moment. I kissed my way up, brushing my lips against his skin. There was so much strength under this warm softness.
His fingers curled into my hair and he pulled my mouth to his, his kiss raw with need and desire. He kissed me with a thoroughness, a ruthlessness, that made me want to collapse to the floor.
Were it not for the arm he had clamped around my waist, I probably would have.
He tore his lips away. Do you want more?
I only partially understood what he was asking but it didn t change my answer. Yes.
He bent down, reaching an arm under my knees, and swept me off my feet. Surprised, I wrapped both of my arms around his neck. He carried me against his chest and I asked, Where are we going?
I m taking you to bed.