CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE #3
It wasn’t soft or gentle or any of the things that indicated love.
It was hard and fast, teeth clashing, lips bruising, heat and frustration melding everywhere their bodies met.
Vesper’s arms circled her waist. Her hand fisted in his hair and she wrenched his head back to give her access to the column of his throat.
She bit and licked and she was everywhere as her fingers found the latch of his belt.
“We shouldn’t,” he said, but the words were a less than convincing moan, a desperate plea.
Nef tore open his pants and her hand sank inside.
His breath thrust out of him like he’d sprinted uphill, as she gripped his already hardened cock, and she stroked him so fucking slowly his head banged back against the door.
“We shouldn’t. We really shouldn’t. You’re hurt and—” Another long, luxurious glide of her hand stole his words. “Fuuuuck.”
All the strength fled his body when she sank to her knees and slid the tip of his cock into the wet heat of her mouth. Gods, his trousers were still on. His legs trembled as she worked him, choking as she took the full length of him down her throat along with all the thoughts jumbled in his head.
His mind emptied. He couldn’t remember why they shouldn’t.
Couldn’t remember anything beyond the feel of her tongue and lips, the increasing speed, and her head bobbing.
An untamed moan slipped from between his lips and his eyes fell shut.
He gripped the door handle for dear life, surrendered himself to her, let her take him how she wanted, mould him to putty in her hands, crumble to pieces at her command, because since he brought Emmery back across the gate, he’d been fighting and fighting and fighting, and now …
he was so fucking tired. And so godsdamn lonely.
As his balls tightened, she shoved his hips against the wall and took him so deep he saw stars. He groaned so loud the whole inn likely heard. Nef smiled around him and did it again.
His hand slid into her hair, desperate to hold onto anything, to show her what she was doing to him, how he was coming undone for her. Her blonde locks tangled in his fingers and she winced, inhaled sharply, but he had barely touched her, barely even—
Vesper froze. His eyes flew open and when he spotted dried blood, it was a frigid douse of water to his desire. “Nef. Oh gods, stop.”
She retreated and as she sat back on her heels, her face fell into her hands.
He pulled his shorts back over himself and shrank to the floor. “Hey, don’t cry. Oh fuck. Fuck. I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry, really, you’ve been through too much, and I shouldn’t have—”
“But that's who I am, right? What I am,” she snapped. The statement bloated with all the rage he’d seen earlier.
All I’m good for hung unspoken between them.
“No, no, no. That’s not what I meant. And that’s not true.
All I meant was you can’t break the bond.
It’s there, Nef. You can’t just burn it off and run away.
The skin will heal and your duty will remain.
” He stroked her hair and looked for the injured spot.
If that fucking prick of a Master wasn’t already dead, he’d send him to the Hollow himself. “Where does it hurt?”
“I’m okay,” Nef said, peeking up at him. “It’s barely a twinge. I just—”
He searched her face for answers. Because this was new territory. “What can I do? Tell me. Tell me how to help you.”
She sucked a deep breath. When she stood, she clasped his hand and drew him up with her, like they were tied together in this—shackles bound to both their wrists. “I want to pretend. At least for tonight. You and me.”
Vesper was struck speechless. He grasped for words that would heal her. All he wanted was to absorb her bruises and free her from all she’d been through. Had he saved her at all? Or had it all been some concoction in his own mind? A balm for his conscience.
Nef tugged him toward the bed. “You always gave me my choice, but we were always in the palace. But here, I’m free. And I want to choose this. Help me forget what I am and let me be … just me.”
The words wove into his heart, a feeling he knew well.
When he was with Nef, he wasn’t a prince or a future king, his father’s failure or his sister’s twisted twin, the man with strange, misunderstood magic, nor the one who, for a century, served and grovelled at another King’s feet like some weak pup.
He could just be Vesper.
And, right now, that was all he wanted. To forget it all and fade into her. To escape.
But he gently pried her hands from his arm, and sat her on the bed. “You need to sleep. Process what happened. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere, but just, rest, okay? I’ll watch the door. I don’t trust that bloody innkeeper.”
Though a violent protest swam in her eyes, Nef huffed, “Fine."
Vesper slid down and propped his back against the door.
After Nef’s breathing evened out, though it was still a bit hoarse, he dozed off and on for hours.
When morning came, they had enough problems to deal with.
And this was something he couldn’t let happen again.
He would do right by Nef if it was the last thing he did.
And the next day, they would search for answers for all their problems.