31. Petra
PETRA
I stare at him in confusion, his words looping in my mind.
“But why me?”
“Why not you?” he counters without hesitation.
I take a deep breath, trying to piece it all together.
“I’m trying to understand you, Sin. To understand this.
” I gesture vaguely between us. “Why would you suddenly take an interest in me? Before the bookstore, we’d never met.
You said you’d been watching me. But . .
. when? How? What could I possibly have done to deserve that kind of attention? What made you interested in me?”
He tilts his head, his eyes fixed on mine. “Because you’re my person, Petra.”
“What?” I whisper, my heart fluttering madly at his words.
“You’re the only one who was made for me—and only me. I knew you were out there. I knew I would find you. So I waited. Why would I waste my time on anyone else, when I knew once I found you, I’d finally be happy? That I’d finally belong somewhere?”
“But that doesn’t make sense,” I protest. “What’s so special about me? I’m just a regular girl from a conservative church. I have no freedom, no voice. I’m a prisoner in my own life.”
“Maybe that’s what drew me to you,” he says gently. “Maybe I want to be the one who sets you free. The one who opens your cage and lets you fly—far beyond the horizon.”
He pauses, his voice low and reverent.
“And if you flew, I’d follow. I’d be tethered to you. Wherever you go, I’d go.”
I shake my head. “It just doesn’t make sense.”
“Not everything has to make sense, Petra,” he says. “But this, what’s happening between us, you feel it. Don’t you?”
He presses his hand over my heart, and I shiver.
“See?” he whispers, taking my hand and guiding it to his chest. “Our hearts . . . they beat together. Because we were made for each other. You for me, and me for you. That’s how it’s always been. Since the beginning of time.”
“You speak in such strange terms,” I murmur.
“Perhaps. But what’s strange now won’t always be strange. Why won’t you let yourself feel, instead of trying to analyze it away? What’s between us is pure feeling.”
“Maybe for you,” I say. “But how do you know what I’m feeling?”
He places a finger over my lips, quieting me.
“You want to tell me you feel nothing for me? When you risked everything to warn me about your father’s plan? When you came here tonight, alone, in the dark? You said it yourself—you were worried about me. Be honest, Petra. Am I not in your heart? Even just a little?”
“You are,” I whisper, the admission soft and hesitant. “But I don’t know if it’s right, Sin. I don’t know if we’re right.”
He hushes me again. “There is no right or wrong. There’s only you and me. And in this moment, tell me, how could this feel wrong?”
His hand rises to cup my cheek, his thumb tracing slow, reverent circles over my lower lip.
“You have to understand, we’re from different worlds,” I protest. “I’m from a conservative church. You . . . you’re part of something liberal, chaotic. Insane, even.”
“And yet, it’s that so-called insanity that brought me here. If I hadn’t accepted this job, would I have ever found you? Would I have met you?”
“No, but—”
“No more buts, Petra. Just yes or no. Be honest. Do you like me?”
“Yes,” I breathe. “Even though I shouldn’t. Because—”
“Because of what?”
“Because all of this is madness. The rituals. The skin you gave me. None of this is normal.”
“Normal is subjective,” he says. “This is who I am, Petra. And maybe, just maybe, that madness is part of what draws you to me.” He leans closer, his eyes darkening with intensity. “Because I do what no other man would dare.”
“What . . . what do you mean?” I ask, my breath catching in my throat.
“I dare to take you for myself. I defy all laws—moral, human, divine. I am willing to do anything to make you mine.”
His words hit me like a wave. A deep, trembling flush blooms under my skin, curling low in my belly. The way he’s looking at me, like I’m the only thing in the world that matters, it unravels me.
No one has ever looked at me like that before.
And what he says . . . it rings true. He has shown me time and time again that he’ll go against anything—rules, tradition, even sanity—to get to me.
And what terrifies me most?
I want him back.
I don’t even need to say it. Because when he leans in and kisses me, I don’t push him off me. The warmth of his lips is startling at first, but as he draws back, I feel instantly bereft.
He gazes at me with concern and almost apprehension.
Unlike before, he’s waiting for my cue to continue, and that gives me enough courage to lean forward and press my lips against his.
I wrap my arms around his neck, drawing him closer.
His scent drifts everywhere around me, earthy and spicy, a combination that makes my head spin.
We slowly fall back until I’m lying on the narrow bed, his big frame looming over me, blanketing my body. And yet, he’s surprisingly careful not to crush me.
Resting his forearms on the mattress on either side of my face, he pulls back to look at me.
“Petra,” he rasps in a harsh voice. “My Petra.”
I stare into his eyes, my heart beating loudly in my chest. I recognize the vulnerable position I find myself in, but there is something oddly calming about it, about the way his presence makes me feel safe and protected.
I raise a hand and press it against his cheek, caressing his skin.
His blue eyes never leave mine, their color deepening with intensity. He lets out a sigh as he nuzzles further into my touch.
“Tell me you want this as much as I do,” he murmurs.
“I . . .” I press my lips together, not even knowing what ‘this’ is.
“No more bartering,” he whispers. “I only want what is freely given, Petra.”
I raise a brow at him, surprised by his words. “I am at your mercy, Sin. You could do anything you want to me, and I would be helpless to fight you.”
His features tense, and he shakes his head. “No, no, no,” he mutters. “Never.”
“Never?” I whisper.
“I want you to want me as badly as I do, Petra. I realize my past behavior might have been . . . intense. But it was only so because I burn for you. You have no idea . . .” he takes a deep breath. “I want you like I’ve never wanted anything in my life. Anything!”
“Then here I am,” I whisper as I continue to caress his cheek. “I—” I gulp down nervously. “I want you, too, though I have no idea what that means.”
His first reaction is shock. It spreads across his features like wildfire. But soon his lips spread into a brilliant smile, and he leans in and presses a soft kiss to my lips. Then my nose. Then my eyes. He peppers a flurry of small kisses all over my face, his reaction giddy and unrestrained.
“We can find out together,” he says.
I give him a small nod, and he captures my lips again, this time with renewed fire. His tongue brushes against my own. I respond in kind, meeting him stroke for stroke.
I’m not sure where this boldness is coming from, but as I give myself to the kiss, all my worries disappear. I forget about who I am, who he is, and the circumstances surrounding our meeting. There’s nothing else but his sensual embrace that makes my head spin.
His lips trail lower down my neck until he reaches the edge of my bodice.
“Can I?” he whispers as he reaches the buttons.
A flicker of uncertainty crosses over my features, but he’s quick to assuage my worries.
“I won’t take your virginity tonight, Petra. Not like this. Not until you’re absolutely comfortable with me.”
“Oh,” I whisper.
“I just want to touch you, taste you, learn you . . . will you let me?”
I bite my lip as I gaze at his earnest expression. “All right.”
He gives me another quick peck on the lips and gets to work on the buttons of my bodice. He gets a couple of them loose, but it’s clear he has a hard time with them, so I offer to help.
He draws back, his cheeks flushed.
“I told you I’m just as much a novice as you are when it comes to these matters.”
Somehow that emboldens me, and sitting up, I slowly unbutton the bodice under his watchful gaze. He has an intense expression on his face as he follows my every move.
“Damnation, what you do to me, Petra,” he groans when I reach the final button and shrug off the garment off.
I’m wearing only my night shift underneath, a white cotton gown with a lace pattern at the neck. His hungry gaze lingers on the exposed skin before going lower to my chest. A shiver runs down my back.
“Perfection,” he whispers.
His hand trails down my neck, hovering over my chest as if he can’t quite dare to touch me. This is a stark contrast to the man who bargained for a kiss before. But his bashfulness only makes him more appealing in my eyes.
He leans in and presses his lips against my neck, trailing open-mouthed kisses down my chest until he reaches my breasts. He cups them in his hands through my nightgown, opening his mouth over one stiff peek and sucking it into his mouth.
A loud gasp escapes me, and I hold onto his shoulders, though the wetness of his tongue against my sensitive flesh, even through a barrier, makes my head spin.
He’s making me feel things I never thought possible, and it’s almost as if an entire new world is opening up in front of me.
His teeth nibble at my flesh, the warmth of his mouth spreading down to my core.
His urgency for me is so great that we find ourselves tumbling down on the small bed, with him on top of me. He lets out a deep chuckle that vibrates into me before he takes my mouth in another intoxicating kiss.
His hands have changed course now. Instead of my touching my breasts, he’s moving lower.
Gripping the hem of my skirt, he pulls it up my legs. The cold air hits my bare flesh at once, which only serves to emphasize the hotness of his touch as he trails small caresses up my inner thigh. I’m not sure what he’s about to do.
In fact, I’m both curious and terrified. I’ve seen animals mate, and I have a guess as to how humans might do it, too. But he told me he wouldn’t take my virginity.
Was I a fool to believe him?
He’s still clothed. To do that, he would need to take off his clothes, no?