“Relax,” he cooed, laying her onto her stomach and slipping from her arms. “Don’t move.”
Her eyes shut, unable to hold them open any longer.
Isabelle was awoken again when she felt a cool, wet cloth against her back, popping an eye open to see Rul wiping her down. He removed blood and sweat from her body before swiping between her legs. The sex demon was cleaning her, caring for her, even though he hadn’t had his own release. Was he hungry? Did he crave her?
“We can still–” she started, but he shushed her, taking a brush and untangling her hair.
“No. We’re done for today.”
Next was a small vial filled with a clear liquid, some sort of floral scented oil that he poured on her cuts, abating the sting. He turned her onto her backand did the same to her front, dotting the substance along each prick of pain.
“You are the most exquisite thing I’ve ever touched,” he murmured, and she swallowed hard, their eyes locking in a single, heated moment.
Rul handed her a crystal goblet, and she drank, the water quenching her parched throat and clearing her head a bit. Next was a plate of her favorite pink macarons, which she eagerly engulfed as if she hadn’t eaten in days.
When he had her settled back into the bed, she curled up against him, savoring the tenderness of his touch.
“How are you feeling?” he asked, his voice gentle.
How was she feeling?
While in that alluring dreamlike state, she could almost believe the words they had said, that she deserved forgiveness, acceptance. She had served the moon mother with her whole heart, and yet it never seemed to be enough. She was still cursed with lust, still empty inside, still yearning for companionship so badly that it made her do foolish things, like run into the forest to be claimed by a demon.
Like sayingI love youin a moment of vulnerability.
“Confused,” she said. “I don’t understand what he wants. Whatyouwant.”
It was strange to tell the truth, to admit her emotions like this, but somehow she felt comfortable talking to him. Like she really could trust him.
“I can’t speak for Bellinor, but…” he said, trailing off, his eyes glued to the ceiling.
He glanced at her, his gaze softening and a rueful smile curling his lips.
“I want you, Isabelle. I want all of you. Your softness, the way you melt under my touch. The way you give yourself so freely.” He paused, breathing deeply like he was trying to stop his own tears from falling. “Bellinor… he loved me once. Maybe he still does. I don’t know anymore. Le Voile has changed him, even though he’s kept himself hidden away in le Jardin.”
With a soft touch, he cupped her cheek, running his thumb over her lips.
“Who were you saying it to?”
Though he didn’t specify further, she knew what he was asking, taking a breath and giving herself a moment before answering.
“Him.You.”
Rul’s smile beamed straight through her, and he hugged her tighter, squeezing her against his chest.
“I don’t care if you meant it. I love you, too.”
The flow of tears was renewed, but in a way that felt freeing. How many times had she given everything to the moon mother and received nothing in return? It was blissful to be reciprocated, even if they were just words.Didshe mean it? She didn’t want to dwell on that question, not now, not when she knew one thing for certain.
In this moment, she felt good, and she deserved it.
CHAPTER 16
THE DAYS–OR WHATEVER the equivalent of a day was in le Voile–passed in blissful ignorance, every thought focused on creation… and hedonism.
Rul served her breakfast every morning, café au lait, croissants, fresh fruit, and jam, then presented her with a new dress he wanted her to wear. They all were far more risqué than what she had back home, but she enjoyed the sensation of the silky fabric on her bare skin, the way he tore them off of her each evening after she’d gotten her share of painting in.
She wasn’t fully happy with how the still life had turned out, but Rul sang her praises, insisting she give it to Bellinor as a gift.
