Chapter Forty-Four Xander
Leaning a hand on the polished stone wall of the shower, I let the hot water run over my back.
Under the weight of Siyala’s words—under the honesty of those amber eyes—I had felt overwhelmed and retreated to the shower like a coward.
I want her, gods above and below do I want her, but fear holds me in a tight noose, reminding me of everything that could go wrong.
Of everything that already has. And Siyala has demons of her own, her history as torturous as mine.
No one will ever take something that is yours again.
I meant those words, and I would not be the one to compromise them.
Decision made, I finish my shower and dry off, pulling half of my hair back into a bun before slipping on a pair of gray sleeping pants and a white undershirt. Steam flows from the bathroom and into my room, where I find Siyala standing at the side of the bed. In one of my tunics. Only my tunic.
“I grabbed this while you were showering,” she says, gesturing to the black oversized shirt, the sleeves scrunched up her elbows while the top few buttons are left undone.
Warmth blooms low, my blood moving south as I stare at where the hem grazes her upper thigh, the rest of her bare beneath it. I spot the already scabbed scars left over from Miles and grit my teeth together, wishing I could kill the bastard again.
“Is that alright?”
Forcing my eyes to move up her body again, I finally meet her gaze with a single nod. “More than alright.”
She grins, reaching up to loosen the strands of her snow-white hair from its braid. “You flatter me,” she says under her breath, just loud enough for me to hear above the beating of my own heart. Breathing feels impossibly difficult.
“How so?”
Her smile grows as she runs her fingers through her hair, shaking it loose so that it spills over her shoulders. “The way you look at me.” She takes a small step towards me, fingers playing with one of the buttons on the front of the tunic.
“How do I look at you?” I ask, trying to remind myself of the decision I just made in the shower.
“Like you can’t get enough,” she whispers, a faint ring of gold glowing just around her irises.
I’m acutely aware of the shape of her bare legs. The fanning of her dark lashes and the fullness of her lips. It’s like I’m trapped under a different magic, one that makes it impossible to look away from her.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” I rasp out before I think better of it. And I don’t deserve to touch you. The sentiment nearly knocks me a step back, but Siyala is there, her hands resting on my chest. “Siyala—”
“This is real,” she says, part statement and part question, the glow of her eyes entirely mesmerizing.
“You don’t have to do this.” I don’t want to be another painful memory for her. A regret.
“This is real,” she repeats, this time with undeniable conviction.
It takes a second for my brain to catch up, for my hands to find the soft divot of her waist as my fingers spread over her hips.
Lifting onto her toes, she leans into me, the sweet scent of her filling me with a desire so strong, it’s nearly painful.
My cock twitches against her, the involuntary movement making her eyelids flutter.
Despite how she is looking at me, I still pause, not wanting to cross a boundary with her unless she is absolutely sure.
“Xander,” she breathes, the hitch in her voice nearly undoing me right here and now. “Please.”
Leaning down, I drag my nose against hers, my satisfaction growing at the way her lips part in preparation to meet mine. At how her fingers grip my shirt more tightly and she leans into me like I might be the only thing keeping her anchored here. “Real,” I say against her mouth before I claim it.
Unlike the first time we kissed, there is no hesitation.
Her tongue presses at the seam of my lips, and I greedily let her in, sucking it farther into my mouth and earning a low moan from her.
I let one of my hands rise to tangle into those perfect strands, cradling the back of her head as I press her in even closer, fusing our mouths together as if she is the only sustenance I need.
But she’s just as eager, her tongue lapping against my own, her hands sliding from my chest and up my neck, diving into my hair.
This want of her is contradictory to everything that I’ve spent most of my life fighting for, and still, as I slip my mouth off of hers to travel over the curve of her jaw to her neck, tasting her in the way I have dreamed about, nothing has ever felt so right.
“Xander,” she rasps, pressing her hips forward, “I need more.”
My heart pounds viciously in my chest as I walk her back towards the bed, dragging my teeth over the space where her neck meets her shoulder.
I am rewarded with a sound that’s crossed between a whimper and a gasp.
We fall onto the bed seamlessly, Siyala beneath me while I brace my weight on my forearms. Her eyes search mine before whatever she sees has her dragging my mouth back to hers, fire licking a trail all the way down my spine and straight to my cock.
Gods, I could come just from this. Just from the way she devours me wholly with her tongue.
I make the mistake of sinking my hips lower into the valley between her legs, the soft brush against her making us both gasp.
I could definitely come from this. I move to raise them again, to give myself a fighting chance at making this last long enough for her, but she hooks her legs around me, heels digging into my ass as she lifts her hips. “Siyala—”
The sentence dies on a guttural moan as she grinds against me, the thin fabric of my sleeping pants and her even thinner undergarments leaving very little to the imagination.
“Stars above,” she breathes, repeating the motion and making me swear. “You feel—” She makes herself groan as she moves again, and fuck me if it isn’t the most beautiful sound I’ve ever heard. “I didn’t think it could feel like this.”
I shift my weight onto one arm, my other hand toying with the edge of the tunic, wondering at what pace she wants to explore each other.
The thought sobers me as I pull back to stare down at her.
With her lips swollen and golden skin flushed, my cock decidedly thinks that we can handle whatever it is she needs, but my mind is less convinced.
“What is it?” she asks, concern immediately dimming her own lust as she reaches out to cup the side of my face, creating space between our bodies when her feet meet the bed again.
I struggle to find words, my heart beating entirely too fast—something I know now she can hear.
Turning into her palm, I place a kiss there, swallowing back the urge to just fake my confidence.
Real. I promised her real. “I want to please you,” I confess, my choice of words making her flush a brighter shade of pink.
“But there hasn’t been anyone else. After Marigold,” I clarify. “And we never went that far.”
Understanding dawns on Siyala’s face, and she arches her neck to place kisses at the corners of my mouth, her gaze never leaving mine.
“I don’t want more than what you are comfortable with, guardsman,” she says, her lips coasting over mine.
“Do not give me a version of you that you think I want. Just give me you.” She nips at my lower lip, raw vulnerability shining through her expression. “And I promise I will do the same.”
That’s all the encouragement I need to press myself against her, heat sparking where her chest brushes against mine, where she returns to rocking her hips against me in soft rolling waves.
Her fingers reach for the edge of my shirt, hands roaming up my sides as she lifts the fabric higher and higher, each little inch forcing a more shallow breath to come.
She notices and pauses, those keen eyes on me as she waits for permission to continue.
Marigold had always been uncomfortable with the sight of my scars, as if looking at them might make some appear on her own untarnished skin.
“Not more than you’re comfortable with,” she repeats, laying a hand over my chest, the beat of my heart harsh just beneath it.
I’m not worthy of her, I know it, but fuck if I want to try my best to be.
To be everything that she might need, even if it’s just for this single night together.
Lifting onto my knees, I reach back for the collar of my shirt and tug it over my head, the cool air caressing my skin in an all too vulnerable way.
As I lean forward to brace myself over her again, she carves a line with her gaze down my chest and abdomen, her lids lowered, drunken with desire as she makes her way back up.
And even in the dim lighting, I know she sees the edges of my scars.
Some curl inches around my torso, while others just barely show, but Siyala only acknowledges them with a quick glance before her arms are reaching for me, her nose skimming over my shoulder as I slowly drag my cock over her center barely separated by the layers of fabric.
My fingers travel over the waistband of her undergarments, sliding against the smooth skin of her stomach as I listen to her breath still, a thrill rising through me.
“Gods, I want to draw every noise of pleasure from you,” I rasp, lifting my hand higher and groaning when the tips of my fingers brush against the curve of her breast. When her own moan vibrates deep in her throat.
“I want to see you unravel,” she says in return, nipping at my chin.
I can make that happen. Leveraging my weight, I spin us until my back hits the comforter, pulling her astride me and watching her eyes widen when she settles over my hips, her hands bracing on my bare chest. She looks a little unsure of what to do, so I grip her hips and guide her movements, back and forth until she understands and begins to rock them on her own.
“Look at you.” I lift my tunic up her body, the heat of her beautiful tanned skin scorching my palms while she gasps for air, her thighs trembling. “You’re perfect.”
With a groan, she leans forward, keeping the movement of her hips grinding against me as she sets her mouth to my neck. My shoulder. Tongue flicking out over my chest as she kisses across my collarbone.
I arch my neck at the feel of her, pleasure coiling tighter and tighter as she works me closer to that edge. “Please, Siyala,” I beg, though what form of mercy I’m asking for, I don’t know.
She sets her pace faster, kissing her way up my neck again and finally bringing her lips to my own.
But our kiss is brief, my tongue only moving against hers for a moment before she plants her hands on my chest again, watching me as she rides my cock through the fabric of my pants.
I chase after her, coming up to sit and balancing one arm behind me, the other weaving into her hair.
Needing to have as much of her as possible.
“Let me watch you,” she pleads, another sweet roll of her hips making me groan.
I’m not sure I could deny her anything, especially not now, so I let her continue her maddening pace, our breaths mingling as she drives me towards that final precipice.
The thought of coming because of her is more tantalizing a reality than I ever could have imagined, but I still fight to slow us down.
To drink in every perfect detail of her as my stomach begins to tighten, my fingers curling into the bed as my brow furrows.
“Let go,” she whispers against my mouth, grinding herself a little harder against me. “Xander.”
It’s my name said like that, desperate and hungry all at once, that does me in, sending my release barreling through me at a lightning-fast pace.
She kisses me through it, swallowing every one of my hungry sounds and waiting until I’ve wrung myself out before resting her forehead against mine.
Leaning back, I reach up to tuck Siyala’s hair behind her ears, enjoying the way she runs her hands up my neck and into my hair, rustling the strands as if she can’t help herself.
“What do you need right now, Siyala?” I ask her, gaze tracing the outline of her nose and mouth, lower to wear my shirt now hangs partially open.
“What do you mean?”
Kissing the tip of her nose, I lay back down, grabbing her thighs and encouraging her to come up onto her knees.
With a brow arched, she does, those piercing eyes locked on mine.
“I know you didn’t find release,” I begin, silencing her with a gentle look when she tries to protest it.
“I want to be the one to give it to you. But only if that’s something you want too.
So what do you need right now?” I ask again.
I don’t need enhanced hearing to know that her heart has begun to pound. Siyala stalls for a few seconds, but with a gentle, coaxing squeeze from me, she begins to crawl towards my head, and gods above and below, I have never been happier.