Maybe soon. Or a long time from now.
In a daze, Nicu followed the trail of orange-dyed vapors to his cabin. Lyrik watched him go and only then disappeared, the mist swallowing his tall, rugged form.
Alone, Aire and I tarried on the bridge. My pulse skipped as the knight turned to face me, those blue eyes transfixed. We’d been avoiding this since the night he fucked me in the watchtower, every lashing beat of his cock breaking moans from my lungs.
A longtime fantasy made manifest.
I could say I hadn’t been replaying every kiss, bite, touch, thrust, and scream. I could also claim I hadn’t been reliving that memory every night since, while pitching three fingers into my soaked walls and making myself come. I could insist it meant nothing, that it hadn’t altered my world, that the reality hadn’tmeasured up to the visions I’d stored in the treasure chest of my heart. I could say all of that.
But I already had enough lies under my belt. This man hadn’t lived up to the years’ worth of fantasies. He blew through them, tore them to shreds, and left those imaginings in the dust.
Even now, I felt the shape of his dick stroking every wet inch of my cunt. His hands grasping my ass, my hair, my face. His voice, roaring with my own. His eyes, possessive and captivated. His body fucking mine. That pivotal moment when we unleashed and changed everything.
Aire’s throat constricted, pink tinting his skin in the most endearing way. Despite how roughly he’d pounded into me, this fearsome soldier blushed like a suitor.
He knotted his hands behind his back. “I would very much like to accompany you to your cabin.”
My fingers itched to grab him. “Fixing to make a routine of it, then?”
“That would be a mere courtesy. To the contrary, I would prefer to make a habit of it.” He cleared his throat. “With your permission.”
Yes, please. Walk me to the front door, kiss my hand, and say goodnight again. Then retreat, stop, and stalk back to me. Seize my face, crush your lips to mine, and blast open the front door. Back me into the cabin, kick the door closed behind us, and never leave.
Kiss me again. Fuck me again.
While reading my expression, Aire’s pupils glittered. His eyes skimmed the dress I chose for tonight, the gilded bodice hugging my breasts, my nipples in danger of studding through the fabric. Suddenly, the textile chaffed, abrasive against my skin. I had to get out of here before my throbbing pussy changed its mind, to say nothing of my conscience.
A gale tousled the knight’s ashy blond hair. As darkness etched the sculpted incline of his jaw, I envisioned draping my tongue across the ledge.
Except that wouldn’t be right. For treacherous reasons.
I had to tell him. I wanted to.
Everything about Rhys. Everything I kept locked away.
“For we are nature itself, and nature is us. One heartbeat. One fellowship. We are forever tied like a ribbon, in truth and spirit.”
One heartbeat. One fellowship.
None of us survived or triumphed alone. That was the crux of Briar’s letter.
The desperation to confess had been chipping me apart for years. But after Aire and I shared our fears and losses, and after every carnal thing that happened between us, and now on the heels of our princess’s words, the truth surged to the edge of my tongue.
My mouth opened. Then my eyes panned to the spot where Nicu had been standing.
Not without him. My friend deserved to hear this alongside Aire. In the morning, I would tell them together.
Once and for all, I shoved my heart into a box and bolted the latch. “I appreciate the offer, but I’d like to walk on my own tonight. If it’s all the same?”
Disappointment flickered across Aire’s face. “As you wish, my lady.”
Then he ducked his head and stepped aside. I sidled past him, the axe bumping against my hip, the dress pulling too tightly across my ribs. As I left him behind, Aire’s gaze seared my flesh, the impact quickening my steps.
The route to my treehouse passed Nicu’s cabin. Halfway across another bridge, my feet slowed.
Although my friend had gone to bed, Lyrik stood outside the door. No knocking. No pacing himself. He just waited there, slouching against a balustrade and sucking on another of his cigarettes, a line of smoke crawling along his jaw. From this vantage point, the rogue watched through the window to where Nicu must be sleeping.
No.
