Page 95 of Dark Soul

“May I speak with you, Alexia?” he asked, very formally. “Alone, please.”

Too formally.

Alexia didn’t particularly care for the formal tone, when just a few hours earlier she’d felt completely safe, cradled in his arms.

She nodded, and together they made their way up the stairs.

Once in his room, Dark made his way to the small sitting area, rather than the bed. He pointed to the couch and waited until she was sitting, then kneeled in front of her.

Alexia only barely refrained from sticking her fingers in his hair.

“I need to ask you something, Alexia.”

She nodded.

“Of course.”

He swallowed thickly. “You told us you didn’t need to go to the hospital.”

“And I don’t. I feel fine.”

Dark ignored her. “Are you sure Lemercier didn’t … are you sure he didn’t hurt you?”

Lemercier.

Vincent Lemercier.

“He told me his name was Vincent.” She looked up and saw the pain swirling in Dark’s blue eyes. “No,” she said, hoping her voice sounded strong. “He didn’t hurt me. He told me to keep Nikolai calm, but basically ignored us.”

Dark let out the breath he’d been holding. He held himself very stiffly for a moment, then slowly let his head fall forward until his forehead hit her lap.

“I was so scared, baby. So scared. Every second you were missing was … agony.”

“I was scared as well,” she said. “And there was so much I wanted to say to you. I’m sorry that—“

“No. Don’t apologize. Don’t ever apologize.”

This time, she didn’t stop her fingers from doing what they wanted to do. They threaded in his hair, drawing a pleasured moan from him.

“Can you tell me what’s going on, Dark?”

He stilled, and looked up at her, then shook his head slowly.

“Fuck. I can’t, Alexia. God knows I wish I could, but I can’t.”

“It’s okay. It’s okay.”

He looked at her like he couldn’t believe she would just accept that. He raised himself higher, his knees pushing her legs apart until he was kneeling right between her legs as she sat on the couch.

It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him she loved him, but she held on to the thought.

I’ll show him, instead.

She leaned forward into his mouth, drinking in his low growl as their lips touched. And his lips were firm but also trembling, and she’d never seen him show such vulnerability before. She grabbed on to his head.

“We’re okay,” she whispered. “We’re okay.”

His mouth swallowed her words, and then there were no more words, no more thoughts, just unbelievable toe-curling pleasure as their tongues and lips explored each other. Eventually his hands slipped under her jumper, rough and large and oh so warm. They paused at her stomach, as if determined to caress every inch of her belly, before moving upwards again.