Chapter Eighteen
“Why?” was the first word that came out of my mouth. If I could have kicked myself, I would have. Had I really just asked him why? I knew why.
I knew that he enjoyed being with me and talking to me, and he had been very open about the fact that he wanted to have sex with me, but he hadn’t indicated any feelings beyond that.
Which meant this was all one-sided. I’d never been in this position before and I didn’t like it.
I should have told him no.
“I need to make sure there aren’t any other injuries,” he said. He was teasing me but also giving me a way to agree without seeming pathetic and desperate.
My body overruled my head. “Well, if you need to check, I suppose you should.”
I had just told him that he was a distraction and that I didn’t want to get involved with him, and now I was inviting him to feel me.
He lifted the hand he’d put between us and ran the tips of his fingers along my waist above my wound. Lightly, delicately, but my entire body vibrated with want and need. Everywhere he touched went up in flames.
If I was like this when he was barely touching me, what would happen when he actually did?
“Eramis, you are soft,” he muttered, as if he couldn’t help himself.
“You sound surprised. I can be strong and soft all at the same time.”
“That’s one of the reasons why I like you, illora. You are an intoxicating mixture of contradictions. Strong and soft. Confident but nervous. Sweet yet deadly.”
I was about to tell him that I was not sweet but then he moved his fingers up, skimming over my rib cage. Up and over each bone and I couldn’t breathe.
“Did he hurt you here?” he asked quietly, and I could hear the strain in his voice.
At first I thought it was because he was upset about the Lemnian stabbing me but quickly realized that it was because he was holding himself back.
His muscles were rigid and I could see the tight cords of his neck, as if it was all he could do to maintain some semblance of control.
Could I really drive him to madness like that? The thought empowered and excited me.
“No,” I said, my voice trembling. “He didn’t hurt me there.”
He continued his ascent. “Here?”
“Not there,” I whispered.
His hand was torturously close to my breast and I held my breath, desperately waiting. But he didn’t follow through and moved away, returning to stroking my side. I had to fight off the urge to grab his hand and put it exactly where I wanted it.
Because none of this should be happening.
It hadn’t gone too far. We hadn’t done anything we couldn’t come back from. We could joke about this tomorrow.
Pretend that nothing had passed between us.
“When you’re excited, when you want me, you get the most beautiful flush to your skin. I’ve been dying to see how far it goes,” he said.
Here I’d been hoping he hadn’t noticed, but now I was very glad that he had. “It goes everywhere.”
He turned his hand so that he could brush his knuckles along my stomach and I was literally quivering from his touch.
All the blood in my body pooled low in one spot and I felt like I was going to combust.
“There it is,” he murmured. “That flush. So beautiful.”
In the past I’d always taken what I wanted. But this . . . this was a new experience, and I liked it. Waiting, receiving, just enjoying everything that he was doing. Being desperate for him but having to wait. It somehow made it all more exciting.
His fingers brushed along the top of my undergarment and I found myself arching toward him, my mind going hazy. He moved his mouth closer so that his words were hot against my sensitive ear.
“If I pushed this aside, what would I find?”
He knew exactly what he would find, exactly the effect he had on me, but I wasn’t able to speak. His voice was as hot and sensual as his hand.
I made an undignified, desperate noise but I didn’t care.
“You could have died today,” he said as he returned his fingers to my waist, as if that were a safe spot.
At first I couldn’t comprehend what was happening. Why had he stopped? And what was he waiting for? Oh. He’d said something that he wanted me to respond to. I forced my brain to work and recall his statement. That I could have died. “I didn’t.”
“But you could have.”
“You could have died, too,” I said.
He nodded. “We could die tomorrow.”
Where was he going with this? “I wasn’t planning on it.”
“Nobody plans on it. But it could happen. Anywhere, anytime to anyone. And if we did . . . I’m not sure I could go to the world beyond this one if I didn’t know what it was like to taste your kiss.”
The air in my lungs solidified so that I couldn’t breathe.
“What do you think, my illora? Should we kiss?” Several things were happening at once. There was his question, but then he rocked his hips against mine and a soft, smothered moan escaped my lips.
Then his thumb stroked the underside of my breast and it turned me mindless. He’d barely touched me and I was ready to melt into this bed.
“What is it you want?” he asked, cutting through the haze in my head.
“You know.”
“I am not a mind reader. Tell me.”
It felt like he was playing with me, just as he had with that man in his first match. He knew what I wanted and he was keeping it from me and making me admit to my weakness for him.
His thumb moved higher. “If you don’t ask, I can’t give it to you.”
Did he want me to plead with him? I had some small shred of self-respect left. “I’m not going to beg.”
“I don’t want you to beg. I just need to know that you really want this.”
I almost laughed. But then he leaned in and started pressing small kisses to my throat, his lips warm and firm. I leaned my head back so that he could keep kissing me.
“I can’t talk while you’re doing that.” I could barely keep breathing.
“Then I’ll stop.”
“No! Don’t stop.” I felt his grin against my neck.
This was a mistake. The rational part of my brain listed out all the reasons why this was a bad idea. Why I needed to get up and pretend that none of this ever happened.
“We shouldn’t.”
He flicked his tongue over a pulse point and it took everything in me not to moan. “I often do things that I shouldn’t. Perhaps you should try being a little less irresistible.”
“Or you could have some self-control.”
“You’ve no idea the level of self-control that I have.” His voice was ragged. Pleading.
I reveled in that. As if he were barely hanging on, feeling just as mindless and desperate as I did.
“What is it you want, my illora?”
“Everything.”
With a feral sound that was between a growl and a groan, his lips descended to mine. Before I could register what was happening, he slid his tongue into my mouth, twirling it with mine, and everything in the world disappeared around me.
When his lip touched mine, his tongue stroked mine, the shock of it was like emerging from deep water and drawing in that first big cleansing breath. The sensation of him, of all that he was doing, consumed me.
I had thought he might be gentle, persuasive.
This was anything but. He was frenetic, demanding. Like he was worried he wouldn’t get to do this again. Which was strange because he knew I wouldn’t stop him.
It was a heady feeling to be claimed like this. Because that was what he did. He claimed me.
Every kiss sent the same message.
Mine.
In one moment kissing him was like trying to kiss a flame on a candle—he was quick, ephemeral, dancing from one place to the next. And then a moment later he was solid, real. Touching and kissing me everywhere, all at once.
He returned to my mouth and this kiss was filled with want and need. Filaments of pleasure shot through me, along with swells of tingles that ensnared me by making my limbs go weak. He had caught me and I was glad that he had.
Zain changed the rhythm of the kiss, the position he’d been in, and it somehow made everything even better.
This was otherworldly. Lyrical. Consuming.
There was an urgency and heat I’d never felt before, and I worried that I’d spend the rest of my life craving it.
I wanted this feeling to rush to its inevitable conclusion and also to stay this way forever.
“I didn’t know it would be like this,” I whispered as he kissed his way down my neck.
“I did,” he said into my skin, making me shiver all over again. He reached down to pull me to him and his fingers dug into my hips.
When I made a small sound of pain, he immediately stopped, pulling back from me and letting me go.
“What? What are you doing?” I demanded, out of breath.
He was breathing hard, too. He watched me, the intensity of his gaze making me want to tug him back down to me.
“I’m so sorry,” he finally said. “I forgot.”
“So did I.” I didn’t want him to stop. I reached for him and he backed away. I let my arms drop, feeling confused.
Rejected.
“Don’t,” he said, studying my expression. “It’s not what you’re thinking. I have plans for you, my illora. And all of them require you to be fully healed. I will wait.”
Blood pulsated in my ears.
Oh.
“I want you to rest. Your recovery is what matters most,” he added. He lay down on the bed, closing his eyes. I pulled my tunic back down into place.
What did I do now? Should I move back to my cot? Was there a dignified way to do that that wouldn’t involve me scooting over?
Zain solved my dilemma for me by drawing me close to him. “We should conserve body heat by sharing a bed. It’s more economical.” He opened his eyes. “Unless you’ve never shared a bed with a man before.”
“You would not be the first,” I told him.
“Perhaps not, but I would be the best.”
“You’d be the most arrogant.” I had no right to say that to him, given the maelstrom of sensation he’d just swept me up in, but I couldn’t help myself.
“It isn’t arrogance if I know it would be earth-shattering.” He kissed me on my forehead. “Go to sleep, my illora.”
I nestled my head against his shoulder as he held me, fully enclosing me in his arms.
I had never really felt unsafe in my life, especially once I’d discovered I was battle-favored. But there was a safety in his arms that was unfamiliar to me. It wasn’t that he’d keep me from harm—I could do that myself.
No, it felt more like . . .
Like finally finding the place where I belonged.
I dreamed of the goddess again that night, everything exactly the same as it had been in the other dreams. Eramis silent, standing behind her. Invara speaking only one word.
Win.
I wanted to tell her that so far I was, but I was again prevented from speaking.
Thankfully Lia didn’t show up, and I hoped she’d stay away until the tournament was over. I would travel to my mother with my answer on how to change her mind and then I’d go straight to Ilion so I could explain.
Not that I knew how to explain any of this.
I woke up with only Dagger for company. The dog still slept and emitted random bouts of flatulence.
I went and got ready for the day, searching for Zain.
I felt slightly pathetic for doing so and tried to come up with a reasonable excuse I could give him as to why I had sought him out.
Nothing came to me.
And it would’ve been a lie, so it was better for me not to say it. But I wasn’t sure if my ego could withstand telling him the truth. That the feelings I’d thought were far off in the distant future seemed to have started making an appearance after last night.
It wasn’t just his passion and skill, it was his consideration. The men I’d been with wouldn’t have cared if I’d been injured.
But Zain had.
Perhaps he thought it was only about a physical attraction and didn’t realize that it might go deeper for him as well?
He’d have to be the one to figure that out. It wasn’t my responsibility to tell him what his feelings were.
Despite searching for a long time, I didn’t find him. He wasn’t training, wasn’t running, wasn’t eating in the dining hall.
It was like he had disappeared.
I tried to occupy my time because I was not going to spend my day waiting for him to return. Healers stopped by to visit me and had me drink even more potions, which were causing my wound to heal extremely quickly.
And that meant I’d be at full health very soon.
There was no one to share that information with. Zain didn’t come home that night, nor did he return to our room early in the morning before the third event.
Now I was concerned. What if something was wrong? I thought about when he and I had gone out to celebrate and had been followed. He’d suggested that people might be after him—why hadn’t I taken that seriously?
He might be hurt. Someone might have taken him.
I decided to go to the stadium to see if he was there. If he wasn’t, then I would go looking for him. The diviner stone would have to wait.
When I stepped into the arena, I immediately spotted him and relief pulsed through me. He was fine.
I made my way over to him and he smiled at me.
But I noticed that the warmth of it didn’t reach his eyes. His smiles always made his eyes light up.
What had happened to him?