“Keeping myself busy.” The ache between my legs is unbearable.
The sword hits the ground with a dull thud, and then I’m in his lap, thighs straddling his hips, hands caressing his shoulders.
This isn’t me. Deep down, I know that. But itfeelslike me.
Tides, he smells so good. His proximity soothes the desperate thrum inside me.
“Skies, Mayah,stop.” He grabs my upper arms in a firm grip, keeping me from coiling around him.
“I’m aching, Zev.” My voice is low, petulant. His hands drop to my waist when I say his name. “I want you.Please.”
He mutters a curse and grips my waist harder. For a heartbeat, it seems he’ll pull me closer—kiss me. But then I roll my hips, and he shoves me away like I burned him.
“You’re not yourself. It’s my power inside you. This will wear off. Just goback.Over.There.” His eyes are nearly black.
I pout, and his gaze drops to my lips before he drags it back up. Lightning flashes in his eyes as he glares at me, and I want it to strike me down.
I trudge back to my side of camp.
Zev returns to sharpening his sword while I lean against a tree, nursing the sting of rejection. I’m so tidesdamned hot, it’s like my skin is on fire. I peel off my tunic, leaving only a thin white chemise behind.
“What are you doing?” he growls, a vein pulsing in his forehead.
“It’s hot.” I hook my fingers beneath the hem of my chemise, and in the space between heartbeats, Zev crosses the camp, his fingers clamping in a bruising grip around my wrist.
“Stop taking off your clothes,” he grits out.
My free hand slides over the defined ridges of his abdomen, up his muscled chest, to cup his face. “I thought you were going to stay on your side, Zev,” I whisper huskily, inching closer.
He wrenches away from me.
“Mayah, please,” he groans, as if in pain.
The ache inside me is all consuming.
I need—
I need—
Tides, I can’t think. Why won’t he help me?
“Please, Zev,” I moan. “It’s unbearable.”
He’s panting now. His throat bobs as he swallows. Firelight glints across the faint sheen of sweat on his neck. I want to taste it. “Why don’t you lie down? Try to sleep. It’ll wear off in a few hours.”
I take a step closer to him.
He takes a step back.
“Or maybe I can go for a walk, and you can—”
Another step closer.
Another step back.
“You won’t help me?” I don’t recognize my voice—whiny and needy.
He shakes his head, hands raised as if to protect himself.
