13. Lovette
Chapter 13
Lovette
“ G aius,” I breathed. The ache in my chest and the sudden throb between my thighs was so intense I worried I might go mad soon. My center pressed against his hard length through his trousers, no room to spare for even the slightest bit of shame. I couldn’t fathom ignoring the demands of the bond for many months if it always felt like this, let alone years.
“I shouldn’t, but I just need to feel you,” he said, the words a whisper against my throat. The pads of his fingers ran along my thighs, the sensitive skin on the back of my knees. “How are you so soft?”
My eyes slipped closed at the tingly sensations his touch provided. Every place his fingers brushed turned to liquid fire. I muttered something, but I didn’t even know if they were real words since my mind was so scrambled. I was feverish, my eyes wouldn’t focus, and my throat was dry. There was nothing I could do to slow my heartbeat down and nothing I wanted more than for him to continue the delicate torture he was putting me through.
Suddenly he stopped. I opened my eyes and focused long enough to see him frowning, his hands loosely in front of his chest as he examined them.
“My hands. Are they too rough? The callouses…”
I shook my head. “No.” Doubt creased his forehead. I reached out a hand, grasping his fingers in mine, pressing them to my cheek. “I like the way your hands feel on me.”
A shuddered breath rattled through him as he stared into my eyes. After a long moment, he found whatever he’d been looking for and allowed his fingers to venture further up my body. He adjusted the way I was sitting so I was upright before moving his warm palms along my sides, then to the soft expanse of my belly. I jerked when he hit a sensitive area, and he deepened the touch, made it more intentional as he slid his fingers along the bones of my hips. I felt the rasp of his skin more intensely in the little grooves there, the ones I’d gotten the summer I grew half a foot.
His breath slid along my skin as he sat up and reversed our positions so that he was on top. My tunic became fisted in his hands as he drew it up my body and over my head, twisting it so that it knotted around my wrists. He gasped, finding I wore nothing underneath. I’d been in my own home and ready for bed, after all. “Little Dove, you are a wonder. Truly a gift.” He exhaled slowly through his nose, as though grounding himself before continuing. “This leaves me one-handed for a bit, but I think that’s fine, yes? I will be forced to take my time discovering every inch of you. Are you alright?” He stared down at me, eyes glassy, perhaps feeling as drunk on me as I was on his touch.
“Yes. Please.”
He grumbled again, low in his chest, before devouring my mouth in a kiss that left no doubt he’d finally gotten over his worry about our differences. His lips mapped mine slowly, his tongue teasing along the seam, requesting entrance. I sighed out as the back of his fingers brushed along the side of my breast, giving him exactly what he wanted.
Gaius was like a starved man, feasting on my breath, my taste. His hand rose up to cradle my cheek, the bulk of his body pressing mine into the cushions as his fingers twisted in the shirt holding my hands above my head. The noises he made only added to the flames burning bright within my veins, and every small groan left my thighs more clenched as I sought some kind of relief from the pressure between them.
I gasped when he finally released my mouth, his lips finding my collarbone, my shoulder, the slope of my breast. “Gaius.”
“Tell me to stop, Lovette.” His voice was strained.
“No. Never.”
He growled then, a tortured, fierce noise. He paused to breathe before he nipped a trail down my throat. His hot breath fanned along my skin, leaving me shivering. Abruptly, he grabbed me up and carried me into my bedroom, dropping me onto the mattress before caging me in with his arms, his hands on either side of my head. “That’s better.”
He continued his exploration at a torturously slow pace, returning my hands to their raised position above my head every time they strayed to tangle in his hair, eventually leaving one hand around both of my wrists so I had no other choice.
His body was a study in strength, every part of him made of sculpted muscle that twitched at the smallest movement. I ached to run my palms down his chest, the ripples of his stomach. I wanted to see each of the silver scars his flesh was decorated in up close and personal, taste the story of his life with my mouth.
Instead, I had to survive the blissful torture of him doing the exact same thing to me. And he was taking his sweet time about it.
“Gaius.” I couldn't keep the whine out of my tone, no matter how hard I tried.
Finally, he cupped my breast in his palm, lowering his hot mouth around the peak. I made a noise that was somewhere between pain and pleasure as he sucked. Time ceased to exist as he applied the same treatment on the other side, alternating the two for what seemed like ages before eventually drifting down my body with his tongue and teeth.
“Leave those there,” he warned again, taking his hand off my wrists.
“But I want to touch you too,” I rasped.
“I couldn’t stand it,” he panted. “I’m already on the edge of my control, Lovette. If you touched me back it would be my undoing.” The tremor in his voice told me he was being very, very serious.
“This time,” I agreed. “But I want a turn.”
He nodded enthusiastically, his long hair tickling along my skin. “Yes. Yes, Little Dove, I want that too. Just not right now.”
I craved that more than anything—to see him losing control by my hand. The thought alone made my blood sing in a way I’d never felt before.
Gaius slid off the side of the mattress onto his knees. He tugged me by my ankles, sliding me right to the edge until my calves rested on his shoulders. My naked center was exposed, directly in front of his face, but instead of feeling embarrassed like I had the previous time I’d found myself in such a position, I felt powerful. The way he looked at me, the tentative way he kept kissing at whatever piece of my leg he could get to as he stroked along my thighs with his fingertips, getting closer and closer to where I wanted him… it would feed my needy heart for weeks.
“So soft,” he repeated, the words drifting off to a whisper before he inhaled deeply. “Saints. I am unworthy of this.”
“You’re not.”
He dragged his tongue up my slit, from bottom to top, making me squirm. “I want to believe you, Little Dove.” He did it again. And again. And again.
“Gaius.” I exhaled with a huff, frustrated as my pulse taunted me loudly in my ears.
“Patience. I’ll not be rushed. Not after all this waiting.” One of his arms wrapped around my thigh, his palm pressing down on my lower belly as he latched onto where I wanted him most and sucked.
The pressure was so sudden and intense I cried out, a low guttural noise from somewhere deep within me. The fingers of his other hand gently stroked the delicate skin around my opening, teasing along the edge as I desperately tried to press myself closer to his touch. He grunted, and even without words, I knew he was admonishing me for my lack of patience, the one thing he’d requested.
“Please,” I begged. Every place he touched, every inch his breath caressed burned like liquid flame. “You’re the one who was in denial, don’t punish me for it.”
There was no way to know for sure, but it felt he smiled against my flesh as he dipped a finger inside me and redoubled his efforts against me with his tongue.
I writhed, lifting my hands and lowering them again, wanting to grab fistfuls of his hair but also trying to obey by leaving them over my head like he’d instructed. A slow throb built, and he curled his finger, pressing into the soft area at the front of me.
Stars filled my vision, and I knew there was no stopping the avalanche of sensation he provoked. “Gaius, I’m going to…” Every muscle clenched as the hot knot of desire in my center finally loosened.
But he didn’t stop. As I pulsed against his mouth and hand, he continued on, firmer than before. My thighs began to shake, and I couldn’t stop myself from pulling my hands free of my tunic so they could tangle in his hair.
When I came back to myself, I was breathing hard and he was sitting back on his heels, a satisfied smirk on his face. “That was the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen, Little Dove. Let’s get you some of that chocolate and maybe some tea so I can see it again.”
It was indeed not my turn at all that night. That’s not to say I didn’t come out a winner, because I absolutely did, but my mate had taken no pleasure of my body nor allowed me to give it back to him. The bond was not fulfilled. And I honestly wasn’t sure what that meant.
He was gone in the morning, which added another layer to my confusion. We’d cloistered ourselves in my apartment, but now I worried perhaps with my preference for open windows his hut would have been a better choice. Had he been unable to rest? Perhaps he’d gone somewhere to seek stone sleep instead. Or maybe he’d left because he was uncomfortable. I hated that I’d slept so soundly. It was very unlike me, and for once it would have been nice to have woken to something as innocuous as the bed shifting.
I waited around long enough to drink two cups of coffee, allowing him plenty of time to return if he’d gone to fetch breakfast. But he never showed.
Still riding enough of a hormonal high to keep from being too sour, I bathed quickly and dressed before taking myself down to the meetinghouse for a quick breakfast. To my great misfortune, my sister was there.
“Would you look at that?” she teased as she waved me over. “She lives and breathes. I haven’t seen you in so long I was beginning to worry.”
“It’s been less than two days,” I scoffed.
“Still. You’re avoiding me.”
“I’m not. Not anymore anyway.” I sprinkled some seasoning on my eggs, bravely meeting her eye.
“If you say so.” She leaned back, staring right through me as she sipped her coffee. “Where’s your friend?” She raised her eyebrow.
“I have no idea. I’m not in charge of watching him.” I shrugged my shoulders, trying to loosen up the sudden tension between them. I guess I wasn’t as unaffected by him not being there when I woke up this morning as I’d thought.
“Mm-hmm. Fine then. What are your plans for the day?”
I shrugged, shoveling in food while I thought up a reasonable response. “I’ve got some things to take care of.”
After the last big gathering, the one where the clan had welcomed Grace along with Calla and her mate, Rylan, as well as Greta and her mate, Vassago, I’d been left with an assortment of fabrics by the aunts. They hoarded beads and thread for our traditional gowns, but sometimes I got lucky and they’d leave me the cast-offs or bits they couldn’t use elsewhere. I had some very fancy bandages at one point, in fact. The heavy canvas I’d been given would be wonderful for a chair. I just had to figure out how to get a proper frame made that lined up with my specifications, ones I’d been working on during spare moments since my hunt for a better chair for Gaius had been so unnecessarily frustrating.
“How busy are you? Can you help me with a special project, or should I go into Revalia to a smithy?”
“Get me the measurements, and I’ll let you know.” Imogen looked at me sideways one final time before getting to her feet. “You’re not doing anything reckless, are you, Lovette?” Her grin taunted me.
“No. Should I be?”
She barked a laugh. “You probably should, actually. But I was just checking. My duty as older sister, after all.”
“What about you?” I challenged. “How’s Brom?” Imogen got to her feet. “Just doing my job as annoying younger sister, after all.”
She left the meetinghouse without saying another word, but her lack of response and extended middle finger was enough answer for me.
When I finally got over to the infirmary, I had to reacquaint myself with the room. I stopped at the supplies cabinet, ran my fingers over the tools, checked on the stores of alcohol and medicines. I felt oddly distanced from it, and I wasn’t sure what that meant.
After finding the fabric, my shears, and a measuring tape, I remembered that while fine stitchwork on wounds was my specialty, I was no seamstress. While the concept I’d thought up was fairly simple, the execution was anything but. It turned out it didn’t matter, however, because I’d barely had time to get my initial measurements made before a cluster of young gargoyles came crashing through the open doorway.
“Healer! We’ve got injured!”
Four of them carried two men between them, a trail of blood staining the floor as they traipsed through and dumped their cargo on my cots.
Heart pounding, I abandoned my project and peered into the face of the first man, shocked to my core at who I found.