Chapter 36 #2
I’m drying my hands with a towel when Acker returns.
I move out of his way so he can wash up, too, and take stock of the mess I’ve made of the room.
Even though the people of this town are long gone, it bothers me to think of leaving it in a worse state than I found it.
I busy myself with capping the inkwells and returning unused parchment to its rightful place on the shelves.
I hear the water cut off a moment before I sense Acker’s presence looming behind me.
Bracing a hand on the edge of the counter beside me, he cages me in. He peers over my shoulder and inspects the parchment pieces I had discarded due to one error or another. “You never told me what you wrote to your mother.”
I’ve been wondering when he would broach that subject. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
I hear the teasing in his voice when he replies, “Hopefully it read something along the lines of … ‘Please don’t kill my Match. He’s been nothing but a perfect gentleman.’”
I can’t help my smile. “You want me to lie? To my own mother?”
He leans in close to my neck and inhales. “Sometimes lying has its benefits.”
My eyes flutter closed for a moment before I’m able to pull myself together. Pivoting in place, my body brushes against his front as I face him. I brace my hands on the table behind me and meet his dark gaze. “You mean, you want me to lie when it benefits you.”
“When it’s believable,” he says, voice low.
“I think we both know I can be very convincing.” Ironically, a lie.
He grins, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Then convince me,” he says.
I’ve craved him for so long, but my memory failed to capture just how intoxicating he is in person. His smell, the warmth of his body, the weight of his dark gaze. It’s shameful how much he affects me. I shouldn’t crave him the way I do.
His eyes drop to my mouth. “Tell me you don’t want me to kiss you,” he says.
“I don’t want you to kiss me.”
He isn’t dismayed in the least. “Tell me you don’t want me to touch you.”
The words leaving his mouth shouldn’t make me want the exact opposite. I try to respond, but find myself swallowing my own voice, the sound audible over our mingling breaths.
He leans closer, hand grabbing me by the waist. “Convince me, Jovie,” he demands.
“I don’t want you to touch me.” I’m impressed that the words come out of my mouth at all, even if they’re little more than a pathetic whisper.
“Tell me you don’t want me to slide my hand between your legs and make you come on my fingers.”
“I … I don’t—”
There’s absolutely no chance I’ll be able to make myself say the words, a blush burning across my face.
The grip he has on my waist tightens before being released completely, and the breath that leaves me is mixed with equal amounts of disappointment and relief.
That feeling lingers only until he lifts the hem of my shirt, the back of his fingers skimming my lower stomach.
My voice is shaky when I say, “I don’t want you to make me come.”
A real smile graces his lips. “Good,” he encourages. Fingers dipping under my waistband, he uses the material to yank me toward him, his mouth touching mine as he speaks. “But you can do better. Tell me again but mean it this time.”
Then he is sliding his hand into my pants, and I do want him to make me come. But I know the only way I can ensure that it happens is if I continue to lie—and we both damn well know I’m not good at it. I was never good at it. It’s just easier to get away with when no one looks for the truth.
I hate there’s a part of me that wants to continue this game just so he doesn’t stop. I’ve craved his touch, his comfort, for so long that I’m desperate to see this through. But I know I’d hate myself if it happens this way.
I meet his hooded gaze. “I want you to make me come,” I say, steeling my voice.
His expression shifts entirely, eyes darkening into something more sensual, smile slipping as his gaze heats. “There she is,” he croons.
There’s no teasing or slow lead-up before he grasps the most intimate part of me. My eyes lose focus and my breath catches in my throat as his fingers dip to my center, the heel of his hand pressing firmly against my bundle of nerves.
He hums against my lips. “Like this?” he asks, mouth dragging over my cheek, up to my temple.
I nod eagerly. “Yes.”
He squeezes and my knees nearly buckle, eyes falling closed with a moan.
Wrapping his other arm around my waist, he keeps me upright, body pressing mine back against the counter.
He inserts a single finger, and I hate that his mouth isn’t on mine to muffle the gasp that escapes my throat, the sharp intake of breath punctuating the quiet of the small room.
His lips coast to the shell of my ear, his voice sending shivers down my spine. “Don’t fight it.”
As if I needed his permission, I let my mind go blank.
His panting breath mirrors my own, as if he’s the one on the verge of falling apart, not me.
He doesn’t relent, teeth nipping at the tender skin below my ear, tongue lapping in its wake to soothe the sting.
I let go of the counter, grabbing his forearm for purchase, hips chasing the pleasure with every stroke of his fingers. I’m so, so close …
“Tell me, Jovie,” he pants, arm flexing as he works me closer to the edge. “Do you love me?”
His words are the equivalent of being doused with freezing cold water. My eyes fly open, the gravity of the situation hitting me full force at the same time my body betrays me. Clenching my teeth, I close my eyes and refuse to make a sound, smothering any signs of physical pleasure.
Then, as soon as the waves abate, I open my eyes to find him staring at me with a smug fucking grin.
I shove him away from me.
He dares to slip the wetness on his fingers past his lips for a taste. I cannot be held responsible for what I do next, because I act purely out of blind rage.
I punch him in the face.
I don’t even register I’ve done it until he touches the split in his lip, inspecting the red on his fingers, and I have to shake the throb from my hand.
His expression shutters as he licks the cut, but it doesn’t bring me the satisfaction I really want.
“What was this, Acker?” I ask, furious. “Punishment for the thing with Fredrich?”
His answer is swift. “No.” Then he rolls his eyes. “Although, if it was, I’d say it was a more than lenient punishment.”
Unbelievable.
Defeated, tears threaten to emerge and I turn away from him before he can see them. I adjust the waistband of my panties, and it’s only once I get my emotions under control that I dare face him again.
“I’m sorry,” I say as I try and fail to stop my voice fraying around the edges. “Is that what you need to hear? That I regret what I did, and if I had a chance to choose differently, maybe I would?”
Hurt flashes across his face. Or maybe it’s anger or surprise. I’m unsure and no longer trust my judgment when it comes to him. He’s too much of everything and I’m obviously not capable of withstanding him in any capacity.
I continue, more firmly: “But what’s done is done, Acker. I can’t change what I did with Fredrich any more than I can my betrayal of you all those years ago. If you’re searching for ways the oath will allow you to get retribution, then you’re going to have to get more creative.”
His head jerks back in confusion before he steps back toward me.
“Let me make one thing known, Jovie,” he says, cornering me against the counter once again.
“Oath or no oath, and no matter what has already happened or what has yet to happen, nothing will ever negate the fundamental truth that you are, and have always been, mine.”
I shake my head in astonishment. “You can’t claim me,” I protest.
His earnest expression combined with the indifference in his voice when he speaks is perplexing.
“Even if Mother Nature hadn’t already given me permission to do so when she made you my Match, it wouldn’t make any difference.
” He steps closer and I hold my ground when he stops within reaching distance, dark eyes shifting between mine. “There’s no other ending for us.”