Page 67 of Drawn into Oblivion

All he’d wanted was for her to be happy, to be as strong as she could be. But his selfishness had undermined everything—all he had done was hurt her. Growling in frustration, he sat at the foot of his bed and put his head in his hands.

In less than a day, Mai would be in Oblivion. She certainly had bravery, experience, and power, but he couldn’t help the blaring warning in his head that she was going to be killed. He was going to have to watch her die, and her soul would be forever imprisoned in the Butcher’s lair, screaming for eternity in the walls of his fortress—likely along with his. If she died—if they all died… The mere thought made him ill.

“I want to hold her,” he whispered, rubbing his hand across his stomach to ease the pain.

Soft, insistent knocks at his door jerked him upright, and he spied a sliver of light shining through the door where it met the frame. It seemed too soft to be coming from a lantern. He trudged to the door, betting on his visitor being either Jun or Kiyoshi, but no matter who it was, he hoped they didn’t want much of his time.

He slid the door open and was met with a wave of the heady scent of life. His nausea dissipated, his fatigue vanished, and his magic shuddered with need. Mai had no need of a lantern, for she glowed softly, and her inner light made her eyes sparkle. She looked up at him as though she wanted something. Him, specifically.

“Rosuke,” she sighed, raising her arms.

Dizzy with joy, he swept her into his embrace. Relief wrapped itself around him like a warm blanket, and he had enough sense to toe his door shut before closing his eyes. The nearly overwhelming aroma of power exuded from her every pore, but beneath that was the floral scent of her unbound hair, in which he buried his nose.

“I love you, Mai,” he whispered. “I’ve loved you so long.”

Her heart swelling, Mai tightened her arms around his shoulders. She had so many things she wanted to say, like how much better hearing those words had been than she’d imagined, and how a tiny part of her still couldn’t fathom how someone so larger-than-life had fallen in love with her. But the only thing that came out was “I love you, Rosuke. And I’m sorry. I should have asked.”

“Don’t apologize,” he said. “I should have told you.”

“I’m scared about tomorrow,” she admitted, grasping the back of his shirt.

“Shumei’s plan will work. We have nothing to fear.”

He sounded so sure, but he trembled against her.

“Kiss me,” she begged. He set her down and pulled back, though only enough to stare hungrily at her mouth before dipping his head. Their lips met, and he made a sound closer to a whimper than a moan. The insistent pulsing of his tongue set off sparks in her core, and she couldn’t help the carnal sounds she made.

Tonight, she wouldn’t think about anything but Rosuke. She’d revel in his touch with complete abandon. She’d pretend that tomorrow was just another ordinary day, that she had complete control over her fate, and that she’d have a long life with the man she loved.

His kiss became heavier, rougher. His tongue sought the depths of her mouth. His arms were tight around her back, and his fingers bit into her sides. The pain was distracting, and she found it hard to breathe. Her heartbeat was loud in her head. She stroked his neck and shoulders, trying to soothe his impatience.

Rather than calm down, though, he abruptly set her away, even pulled her arms from him. Luckily, the rooms in this wing of the palace had doors constructed of wood panels rather than paper stretched over a frame. Otherwise, she’d have put her elbow through it when she stumbled back, lightheaded.

Despite forcing space between them, her lover instantly followed her, trapping her between his arms braced on either side of her. His mouth was red from his assault on her lips. He was panting, and his body vibrated with strain. He didn’t touch her even though she wanted him to, and knew that he did too. The situation was oddly familiar.

“I’m sorry,” he rasped. Twinges of pain flickered across his face.

“What’s wrong?”

“I don’t think I can be gentle with you,” he confessed. “I was so worried, and—something about you is different. Not just your taste. I want you like wanting to breathe.” He grimaced as he shook his head. “Maybe you should leave before I—”

“No, I—I don’t—”

“Please, Mai. I won’t be able to hold back like I did yesterday.”

She blinked in disbelief, remembering how sore she’d been after his thorough lovemaking. She also remembered how good it had felt. Molten waves, the firm grasp of his hands, and deep, sexy groans in her ear.

“I don’t want you to hold back,” she softly pleaded as she smoothed her hands around his waist. “Take me however you like.” He writhed under her touch and stepped close enough that she had to tilt her head back to see his face.

“However I like?” he asked, voice dropping low. “Even until you’re too exhausted to move? Your throat too raw to speak?” She curled her fingers into his clothes, entranced by the raw hunger she saw. The slash of red across his cheeks, the drugged look in his eyes… He was going to eat her whole.

Not if she ate him first. She grasped his collar, pulled him down, and sealed their lips together. He made a startled sound right before his tongue invaded her mouth, and whatever command she thought she’d taken of the moment, he handily snatched it back. He took what he wanted from their kiss. He yanked at her dress, loosening it enough for him to find her bare thighs and lift her up. All she could do as he wrapped her legs around his waist was moan in rapture and grasp him close.

Stunning sensations echoed through her body, for he was pumping his hips against her hard enough to shake the door, the ridge of his erection held back only by the straining fabric of his pants. He kissed her as if he would never get to kiss her again, moaning, biting, so eager he was pressing the back of her head to the wood.

She was parrying his tongue when he shifted his hold on her, and she felt a tight pressure on her side right before her belt pulled apart with an ominous tearing sound. Her dress sagged open. Cool air met her feverish skin, and then his warm, rough hand palmed her breast. He bucked a little slower as he teased her nipple, slower still as he pinched it and pulled. She mewled into his bruising kiss and clamped her legs tight around him.

His magic eagerly stroked hers, which was still so swollen with power that every touch had her gasping. Her thighs shook as her sex grew warm and heavy. She couldn’t tell whether he was teasing her or indulging himself when he ground his erection against her. Either way, she pulled him in tight with her calves and wrenched her lips away.