“What if I give you permission to?” His words thrum against my thoughts loudly, as though they originated from my own mind. “What if I want you to?”
“You want heartache?”
“I want you—and every risk and delight that comes with you.”
“What will happen to you, if they find out?” My hand traces down his collarbone and splays across his chest. Every thought says no but my body—my obstinate heart—says,yes!
“They might try me again.”
“You have so much you have to live for, so many you are responsible for. I can’t ask you to risk all that.”
“You’re not asking, I’m offering.” Ilryth leans away, as if gaining the clarity of distance. Allowing me to see the resolve that’s not just in his gaze, but his shoulders and stance. “I have only ever done the ‘right’ thing. I’ve stayed in line and sacrificed for my people. Even with my mother, I quickly fell into place. I have silently stood by and given up all else as I’m told. Just this once, I want to be shameful. I want to pursue something solely for myself.”
How do I argue with that? How could I when my motivations are just as self-serving?
He closes the gap between us again and my lips nearly burn from proximity to his. It takes every last scrap of sense and self-control not to kiss him until I’m dizzy. He whispers with his mouth so close to mine that even our hair struggles to drift in the space between.
“Lay yourself bare to me. Tell me, what do you want?”
“Everything I haven’t had in years. Everything I thought I’d never have again.” I shake my head, rubbing my nose lightly on his. “I want passion and pleasure. I want reckless abandon even when I know it’s the wrong choice to make.”
“Let’s be horribly wrong together, then.” His hand slips around the back of my neck and into my hair. My legs wrap around his middle and our bodies are flush and I am drowning in new, different, and unimaginable sensations.
His firm muscle provides a steady base underneath warm flesh and scale. Tiny currents tease my body like a thousand tiny fingers caressing me. I am weightless. There is no pressure or tension, no awkward sorting of limbs. Everything ebbs and flows as if we are the sea itself. Effortless. As he said…a force of nature.
I hold on for stability as my head spins, bringing my lips to his. Ilryth moves slowly, as if giving me enough time to pull away.As if I would ever want to. I grip his shoulder with my left hand, the right still on his chest.
His lips brush against mine and he stops. They quiver slightly, barely touching. My whole body shudders at the sensation. Ilryth holds me even tighter. His hand slips from my hip to my rear, kneading the muscle as his lips crash against mine again.
We are soundless underneath the waves. There is no noise of bodies or mouths or breaths as we shift against each other. There is only blissful silence and the makings of a new melody that takes shape with our every movement. With each pressing of the words inked into our flesh, notes fill the back of my mind. They trill and swell as he drags his hand across me.
New inkings form. Up my arms, around my neck, down my back and thighs. Wherever his hands are on me, music follows.
His touch is both tender and needy. With hands as possessive as his mouth, both demanding what only I can give—all I can give. I am left breathless by his hunger, by feeling that it will be an impossible task to satiate but left wanting to try even more at the prospect.
As for Ilryth’s kisses…his is a mouth worth living and dying for. I surrender to its force. My stomach flips as if I am riding the crest of a tall wave every time we twist, shifting our angles while hovering weightless, suspended. His tongue slips into my mouth and my mind goes blank.
It has been years since I was last touched like this. Years of slowly reclaiming my body and soul. Years of accepting who I was and who I was becoming.
The actions of kissing and touching aren’t new to me, but the sensations are. I thought I knew all there was about the indulgences of the flesh. But I was wrong. Terribly wrong.
His hand moves around my neck, hooking my jaw with his thumb and fingers. Ilryth breaks away and tilts my face away from his, kissing down my throat. His tongue runs along the lines that are a part of me now. I shudder and my lips part with a soundless gasp that somehow manifests as a single thought:More.
Ilryth is ready to heed the command. He spins and my back meets the bed, the water easing our fall to the sponge. His hands caress my hips, pushing waves into the thin fabric that floats around my lower regions. His teeth press into the flesh of my shoulder. I keep my legs locked around his hips, holding him to me. Ilryth explores every bit of my exposed body from my bust up, eventually kissing his way back to my mouth. I map out the lines in the muscles of his back, tracing every edge of his own markings, and cementing it all to my memory.
If I am to die, these are the feelings I want to take with me of a man. Of passion and pleasure. Of a love that is as foolish as it is liberating. As Ilryth’s kisses slow to mere pecks, my knees unlock from him, settling to either side, and a smile crosses my mouth.
“You seem pleased, Victoria,” he murmurs.
“You have given me more tonight than you realize.”
“I wish to give you even more than this.” The intensity of the sentiment has me staring up at him, confused but eager.
“Ilryth…”
“Not here, for…reasons.” His tail thumps lightly against the bed.
I can’t help but laugh. “Is it shameful to admit I was wondering?”
