Vengeance (The Captive #6)(61)



She hated the heat burning up her cheeks and face. He clasped hold of her cheeks as he bent to press a feathery kiss against her lips. She forgot all about her hesitation and apprehension as he kissed her with a tenderness that aroused her more than his demanding kisses had. Her world became focused on him again and the astonishing way he could make her feel so cherished and alive.

A small gasp escaped her; she bit her lip to keep from crying out when he moved into her. Her fingers dug into his back, she pressed her chin into his shoulder. “The pain will fade,” he murmured in her ear. “Hold onto me.”

He didn’t have to tell her that; she would hold onto him forever. Despite the discomfort, nothing had ever felt so right in her life as this man and this moment. Her heart swelled with love, quickly diminishing any doubts she may have had about her feelings for him. He was raw, he was ruthless, and he was holding her and touching her as if she were the most precious jewel in the world.

She turned her face into his neck and kissed him as waves of love and rightness crashed over her. She’d never expected to feel anything like this in her life. Clinging to him, shaking from the emotions rattling her and the strength of the bond she felt growing between them, she realized her soreness had faded.

He pressed soft kisses against her ear and neck. His hands slid over her bared flesh again, stoking her passion back to life. She lost track of time, lost track of everything except for him.

When it was over, she was shaking with emotion. He held her against his chest, his large body wrapped possessively around hers. She didn’t know if she felt like crying with joy or terror over everything happening between them. Sometime over the past week she’d come to love this man far more than she’d ever dreamed possible. She couldn’t lose him, yet she was convinced she would.

His heated mouth grazed her ear, her toes rubbed against the bristly hairs on his shins causing shivers to slide over her cooling skin. “Are you ok?” he whispered in her ear.

“Yes,” she murmured as her fingers traced the corded muscles of his forearms. She didn’t know if that was true or not, but while she was in his arms she would choose to believe it. Her palm slid over a whiter, fainter scar on his upper thigh. Questions formed in her mind, but she decided later would be a better time for the conversation. She didn’t want to risk him withdrawing from her, not after what they’d just shared.

“I took a spear through the leg during the war,” he murmured when her fingers hovered above the jagged mark.

Her eyes flew to his; her heart leapt into her throat. He’d answered and he hadn’t withdrawn from her. “What about these?” she asked, taking hold of one of his hands and running her fingers over his scarred palm.

He stared down at his hand like he’d never seen the scars before or had forgotten they were there. His muscles flexed beneath her as behind her back, he lifted his other hand up and opened his palm to reveal the other scar. “I grabbed hold of the sword Kane ran me through with.”

Tempest became rigid as she waited for his face to become shuttered and his eyes to turn red. A line creased his forehead, but he didn’t retreat from her. “So much pain,” she said.

He smiled as he brushed back a strand of her hair. “If something is worth having, then you must expect some pain and sacrifice in order to achieve it. I would have sacrificed even more to attain freedom and peace in this land.” She swallowed the lump in her throat as she ran her fingers through the dark red, bristly hairs on his chest. “I’d sacrifice everything for those I love and care for.”

Her hands stilled in their exploration of his body. “Anything,” he said and brought her knuckles to his lips to kiss them. “I will keep you safe, Tempest.”

Unwillingly a single tear slid free. He wiped it away before kissing her cheek. His mouth tickled her ear; she couldn’t help but smile. Gradually she became aware of the noises upstairs again, the movement of little feet on the floor, the murmurs of voices trying not to be heard.

“Are Kane and his men still up there?” she inquired.

His head tilted back and to the side. “I don’t know,” he said after a little bit. His eyes twinkled teasingly when he looked at her again. “Someone distracted me.”

She chuckled as she turned her head to look at him. His fingers brushed over her cheeks before he grasped her chin and gave her a kiss. “We should get dressed.”

Disappointment filled her, but she knew he was right. He pulled her closer against his chest in a brief hug before reluctantly releasing her. Tempest gathered her clothes and quickly slid them on as heavy steps moved across the floor. She knew immediately it wasn’t any of the children or Pallas. William froze in the middle of pulling his cloak on again, his hands stilled on the brooch when the footsteps stopped near the door to the basement.

Tempest became completely still as she listened for any more noise. William glanced toward her, his eyes a shimmering red again. Before the knob on the handle began to turn, he grabbed her cloak and pulled her down to the floor. Tempest bit back a cry when he pushed her beneath him and shoved her cloak under the couch.

He pulled his own cloak off and thrust it under the sofa, storing away the bright white beacons. He tugged his crossbow free and pulled her close against his chest. Giving her a nudge, he pointed toward the end of the sofa and stayed over the top of her when she crawled toward where he’d indicated.

Erica Stevens's Books