“You haven’t been with anyone since…” I don’t even want to say her name out loud—the name of the wretched woman he once loved. The woman who betrayed him and tricked him into losing everything. I didn’t like her when he told me about her before. With my heart now so fiercely entwined with his, I like her even less.
“Five years,” he says.
I lift a hand to his face and run my fingers over his bearded jaw. When I speak, my voice is soft. “I won’t hurt you like she did. I hope you know that.”
He opens his eyes to meet mine, and there’s something pained in his expression. “Astrid, I don’t know what we can be for each other.”
I freeze, disappointment stabbing my chest.
“I love you,” he rushes to say, then again, slower. “I love you, Astrid Snow. Don’t misunderstand me. What I mean is…before we do this, before we become anything more to each other, we must acknowledge the truth. I still have a bargain to fulfill. When we prove your innocence, the queen might release me from said bargain. Or she might not. If she does, that doesn’t mean I’m…”
I frown, piecing together what he can’t bring himself to say. That’s when I realize turning me over to my stepmother is the only way hefulfillshis bargain. If she releases him from it, whether by free will or by order of the Alpha Council, he remains enslaved as Huntsman. I remember what he said about his life. That he has no home. That he’s disallowed from forging social and emotional ties. How he said he’d never subject a lover to the dangers that come with his job.
Then there’s the part I can’t bear to think about. That if Tris refuses to dissolve their bargain, if we fail to find any proof of my innocence or of the killer’s guilt, then…
Then Torben dies.
But no.
He won’t. I will haul myself before the queen if that’s what I must do. My chest tightens at such a terrifying thought, but if I must subject myself to Queen Tris’ violent wrath to save Torben’s life, I will.
Either way, I now understand why he rejected me this morning. And why he said what he did just before he confessed his feelings.
I’m not sure if I can live—whether a short life or a long one—without having more of you.
I feel the same now, but in far more certain terms.
“It doesn’t matter how long either of our lives end up being,” I say. “What I want isthis. Now. If it’s one of my last experiences—”
He covers my mouth with his. “Don’t say it,” he manages to say between kisses. “If you want whatever we can be for each other right now, for as long as we can, then let’s not think about the future.”
“Yes,” I say against his lips. “Yes, I want this now. I want you for as long as we have together. If I have to wait ninety-five years for my next taste of you, I will.”
I keep my next promise a secret.If I have to die for you, I will.
Out loud, I say, “Just give me what you can tonight.”
He kisses me once more, long and lingering, before pulling away. For a moment, I fear he’ll deny me, but the look in his eyes isn’t rejection. It’s hunger. Want. Need. My gaze drops to the length still exposed above his open trousers, and I gasp at the sight of it.
His lips curl into a devious grin as his fingers move to the buttons on his waistcoat. I bite my lip as I watch every slow movement he makes, my breaths growing sharper with every button he frees. Once his waistcoat is open, he drops it to the mossy ground. It lands with a far heavier thud than I expect. Then I note the brass chain peeking out beneath the brocade fabric—the cuffs we were once trapped in. He must have brought them to the Hardings in anticipation of a possible capture. The sight of them fills me with an odd fondness. I recall how angry I’d been to be chained to him, how desperate I was for the key.
Now the thought doesn’t seem so bad at all.
Torben moves on to his shirt buttons, baring his muscled chest one inch at a time. My desire intensifies, mingling with the love that glows in my heart. Heat burns at my center, makes me ache with an unbearable want.
Torben’s smirk deepens, showing me just how aware he is of the way his slow undressing tortures me. He reaches the final button of his shirt and throws the article to the floor. I watch every move and flex of his shoulders, every ripple of his abdomen. Then, finally, he slides his trousers the rest of the way down. I take in his thick, sculpted thighs, his roped calves. He’s like a statue come to life. Or a stunning portrait of male perfection, framed by the beauty of the cherry tree grove around us.
How any foolish woman ever chose another man over him is beyond me. I would choose him a thousand times, even amongst the impossibly stunning attractiveness most fae males tend to possess. Torben is a beauty beyond all others. Rugged. Sharp. Dangerous. Honed to be lethal yet secretly soft.
I drag my eyes from his naked body and meet his gaze. From the way his chest heaves, he feels the same searing yearning as I do. I can wait no longer.
I tug off my blouse with haste, unable to tease him the same way he did me. With a rumbling growl, he closes the distance between us and helps me out of my skirt, hose, and corset until I’m just as bare as he is. The cool spring air dances over my skin, but with desire burning hot in my blood, I feel as if I’m standing beneath the Fire Court sun. He drinks me in, eyes sweeping from my head to my toes and back again. That’s all I allow before I pull him to the ground beneath us. My back comes to a soft carpet of moss.
Torben hovers over me, first meeting my lips with a hungry kiss, then trailing his mouth down my neck. His hands explore my skin, running over my thighs, my hips, my breasts. He runs a thumb in an agonizingly slow circle over my nipple, eliciting a gasp from me. His mouth meets the other, his tongue flicking over the sensitive bud until I’m writhing against him. Then his lips trail to the underside of my breast, then down my stomach. He kisses the soft skin on each side of my inner thigh before sliding his tongue over the center of me. I throw my head back, arching off the ground as his mouth moves in ways I never imagined. It’s even better than his fingers were.
Just when the pleasure grows nearly unbearable, I drag him up to me and wrap my hand around the length of him once more. He presses his lips to mine, groaning against my mouth. Then I guide him to my aching entrance. He pulls away, a question in his eyes, as if to be sure I’m certain. His irises glitter with light, with love, with the glow of the sprites buzzing high above him.
In answer, I buck against him, pulling him closer with my legs around his waist. Then, finally, he gives in. With one slow move, he thrusts into me, inch by inch, until he’s seated to the hilt. The fullness of him is so right, so satisfying. He begins to move slowly, a gentle rhythm that feels nearly as torturous as his striptease. But as I writhe underneath him, pressing my hands into his lower back to push him deeper, faster, he quickens his pace. Soon our sweat-slicked bodies move in tandem. Our breaths mingle, our hearts thud in unison. My desire rises to an unbearable peak, roaring through my blood, erupting from my lips in moan after moan. Torben pulls back slightly, enough to meet my eyes. Where normally I feel the hum of my magic snap into place, with him I only feel warmth. Safety. A love that warms my chest more and more.
