BODY HEAT #4
I nodded. “I was ported off the battlefield, and when Niall found me, he told me he had conveniently just met a very powerful healer who had saved him, Aremis, and some others. He tracked her down and brought her to me. The poor thing; she turned deathly white when she saw the damage. My skin kept trying to re-form, but so much of it was severed, and it lacked a constant blood supply, so the effort wasn’t working.
I passed out for most of the reconstruction, so I don’t know the specifics on how she got her magic to mend everything into perfect, working order again, but when I awoke a couple of days later, my leg was reattached.
I’ll always bear this mark to remind me not to underestimate my enemies. ”
I had never told that story to a female before. None of them had ever bothered to ask. Then again, no one had ever taken the time to really study me with genuine interest the way Nivelle had.
She reached out with a delicate finger, hesitating only a moment before she pressed it against the blemish and traced it to where it ended . . . near where my cock now rested. She flicked her eyes to mine, and I knew the exact words she was thinking: It came dangerously close to—
“My cock—gods-blessed—was miraculously unharmed,” I said, tossing her a grin.
Instead of an eye-roll, or a scoff, like I fully anticipated from her, she blushed and let out a breathy laugh.
There had to be something else coming—a sarcastic remark, a jest aimed at the thing that had just brought her so much pleasure. But she remained quiet, looking at me through the dim firelight.
I blinked, taken aback by her response.
For weeks, I’d weathered every judgmental stare from her, so much so, that I’d grown accustomed to her fiery countenance.
Now, it was as if what we had just done had rewritten everything. Like she had been changed by it.
I knew I had been changed by it. I felt it.
When she retracted her hand, I caught her wrist and angled my body toward her. “Nivelle, I . . .”
What was I going to say?
I could tell her how she was the only one—outside of the Trium and Maeson—that knew the story behind that scar, and how much it meant that she listened.
Or I could tell her just how beautiful she looked lying naked beside me, bathed in shadows and my sweat and the aftermath of our passions. But every word caught in my throat.
So I leaned in and kissed her.
This time, it was gentle, and I took her face into my hands as I spread her lips with my tongue. She tasted like apples and rain. Her fingers wound through my beard, then my hair, relaxing me.
I could stay like this all night—for days, even.
My chest thrummed, and my arousal quickly returned.
It hadn’t fully gone away to begin with, but I remained steady and restrained myself.
If I truly unleashed everything that was pent up inside me, it might be too much for her, and that wasn’t something I was willing to risk tonight.
The kiss slowed, and I savored each taste of her before pulling away.
Lips swollen and red, she let out a contented sigh and sank back against her pillow. “Let’s sleep,” she said, succumbing to a yawn.
“All right.”
She reached for the sheet and tugged it over herself, turning on her side to face me. I brushed back the hair that fell forward over her cheek, and her eyes fluttered closed.
If I had stayed on that rug by the fire, and denied her, or if I’d only given her the blanket she’d left for me, instead of my body heat and my cock, none of this would have happened, and I would have never found out that just the simple act of kissing her and pushing the hair from her face filled some place within me that I hadn’t known was empty.
Quietly, I stood and strode to the cabinet she had mentioned earlier. Indeed, a spare pillow was there, and it sat on top of a pile of plush blankets. Plenty to have kept her warm.
I smiled to myself and turned, about to make a comment about her clever little ruse, but her eyes were still closed, and her lips were now slightly parted. She was lost to sleep.
For a moment, I lingered there, watching as her chest moved at a calm, steady pace. Her eyes darted beneath their lids as if she was already dreaming. She looked so peaceful, yet I knew that within, her soul was as wild as the stormy sea that surrounded the isles.
I tugged the pillow and a blanket from the cabinet and brought them to the bed. I spread the blanket atop her, and used the pillow as a cushion for my back, propping myself up against the wooden headboard.
The sound of the rain was a backdrop to my own pulse. My heart was still racing, and this time, it wasn’t brought on by the adrenaline of battle, or the thrill of a quick bedding with a stranger. This was something different. Something deeper.
And fuck . . . it actually scared me.
Beside me, Nivelle twitched, then mumbled something inaudible in her sleep, shifting her hips. My hand instinctively moved, settling on her thigh. At my touch, she calmed once more.
I worked my jaw, realizing that whatever this was, whatever had just occurred, it wasn’t a simple matter.
It wasn’t a fling that I would lose interest in.
Something inside me was tethered to the witch that lay next to me, and that tether incited more than lust and angst, though, those things were still very much present—in the best way.
This was all-consuming. Frighteningly so. And I had the sudden understanding that this was what Niall and Auren shared. What Aremis fought so hard to have with Maeson.
Fuck. I was in love.