But these things he sees in me now, true as he thinks they are, they aren’t the full truth.
My lower lip quivers as I speak. “What I really am is a mess, Torben. I’m a tangle of emotions. I’m angry and ashamed. I’ve spent the last few years numbing myself with poison. I have magic that makes the people around me crazy. I have a…a strange fascination with soft things, and—”
My cheeks redden as a new realization dawns. “And…that’s because of you. Because of my first memory. Which means I’ve basically been obsessed with you my whole life. That makes me rather strange, doesn’t it?”
He lets out a laugh, and his eyes crinkle at the corners. “Astrid, you’re allowed to be strange. You’re allowed to be a mess. You can be all these things that are part of you. It won’t stop me from loving everything about you.”
My heart slams against my ribs. He said he loves everything about me. But does that mean he loves…me?
“Let’s start over, Astrid. Tell me what you want. Tell me what you really wanted to say this morning.”
All I hear is my raging heartbeat as I step in closer to him. A confession dances just beyond my lips but I don’t know if I have the courage to say it. Because what I have to say goes beyondwant. It’s more than that. More than need. More than desire. I swallow hard, then bring my trembling hands to his torso. Keeping one palm steady on his abdomen, I slide the other up to his chest until it covers the organ thundering against the cage of his ribs. Then I lift my gaze to his, hoping he can read what I’ve spelled without words.
His lips turn up into a dazzling smile. “You want my heart?”
I nod, then finally manage to croak out, “Not just your body.”
He presses his hand over mine and I feel his heart beat faster, wilder. “It’s already yours, Astrid. My heart is already yours.”
34
ASTRID
Ifeel as if I’m floating on air, drifting through the boughs of the cherry trees like the cerapis sprites that continue to dart through the blossoms overhead, illuminating the space around us. My heart feels as if it’s glowing as bright as them too, warming my chest like the heat of the sun.
Torben tilts his head until our foreheads touch. His heart thuds heavier against my palm. “I was supposed to claim your heart,” he whispers, a note of pain in his voice. “I hate that I agreed to perform such a vile act. I hate that I ever placed my hands upon you with that intent. Yet, in the end, you were the one who took my heart.”
“I forgive you,” I say, breathing in the scent of him, that rich woodsy, smoky fragrance. “But you’re wrong, Torben. You did claim my heart. Just not in the way you expected to.”
He angles his face closer to mine until our lips are almost touching. We share breath for several silent moments, our chests heaving. “Do you mean it?”
“I mean it. I…I’m in love with you, Torben.”
He brings his lips to mine, a soft meeting of our mouths. It’s nothing like the crushing kiss he gave me when he marched into my room last night, nor is it the hesitant tenderness we shared after he gave me pleasure. This kiss is gentle yet certain. A promise.
But I don’t want gentle. Not now that I have his body against mine.
I pull my hands from his chest and wrap my arms around his neck. His rove to my back, pressing me against him until not an inch of space separates us. I part my lips, allowing our kiss to deepen, and his tongue sweeps against mine, painting it with the sweet, floral taste of cherries. I arch into him and slide my hands beneath the collar of his jacket, over his broad shoulders, tugging the fabric down with me. He pulls away from me enough to shrug the rest of the way out of his jacket, and I slip out of mine as well. Then his arms are around me again, gathering me against him as we meet in a kiss once more.
I feel my back come up against the trunk of a tree, and I surrender my weight to it, then to Torben as he hoists me up until we’re eye to eye. I wrap my legs around his waist, shuddering as one of his hands slides beneath my crumpled skirt, running up the length of my silk hose to the bare flesh of my thigh exposed above them. His hand rounds the curve of my bottom and I moan against his mouth, cursing the layers of skirts and pants between us. He seems to share my frustration and gathers my hem in his other hand, dragging it higher until I’m bared against him. I bite my lip at the hardness that presses into my aching center, straining against his trousers.
His lips leave mine to trail down my jaw, my neck. His tongue sweeps along the sensitive flesh above the high lace collar of my blouse. He squeezes my bottom with both hands, and it only makes me want more of him, to feel every inch of his flesh bared against mine.
“Will you let me touch you this time?” I ask, my words breathless.
He brings his mouth back to mine, kissing me once. Twice. “Do you want to touch me?”
“Yes, I want to touch you. To see you. I want all of you.”
He kisses me again, and I feel him smiling against my lips. Then his hand comes between us, working the buttons of his trousers. As soon as he frees himself, I slide my palm down his chest, his waist, until I finally reach what I’ve only had teasers of. I wrap my hand around him, exploring his smooth length.
“Astrid.” My name comes out strained, almost a wince, and he nearly loses his footing. He shudders, one hand coming away from my backside to prop against the trunk of the tree, his chest heaving.
I release him and untangle my legs from around his waist. “Did I do something wrong?” I say as I plant my feet on the ground.
Eyes closed, he shakes his head, and I see a smile playing over his lips. A pair of cerapis sprites buzz behind him. Their light paired with the canopy of pink blossoms overhead tinge his copper strands a rosy hue. Blooming hell he’s beautiful.
“No, Astrid,” he says. “It’s just…it’s been many years since I’ve…since I’ve been touched. It almost feels too good.”
