A Thousand Boy Kisses(79)

Rune inhaled deeply, then whispered, “I have no words right now … in either of my languages.”

I offered a weak smile in return. Because I didn’t either.

This silence was perfection. It was far better than words.

Taking Rune’s hand, I guided him up the aisle and out of the foyer. The cold blast of the New York February wind was a welcome relief from the heat of the building within. Our limousine was waiting at the curb; Rune must have called the driver.

We slipped into the back seat. The driver pulled out into the traffic and Rune pulled me to his side. I fell willingly, breathing in the fresh scent of him on his blazer. With each turn the driver took, my heart rate increased. When we arrived at the hotel, I took Rune’s hand and walked inside.

Not a single word had been uttered on the drive here, not a single sound made as the elevator reached the top floor. The sound of the card opening the electronic lock sounded like thunder in the hushed hallway. I opened the door, my footsteps clicking on the wooden floor, and stepped through into the living room.

Without stopping, I walked to the doorway of the bedroom, only glancing back to make sure Rune followed. He stood at the doorway, watching me leave.

Our gazes crashed, and needing him more than air, I slowly lifted my hand. I wanted him. I needed him.

I had to love him.

I watched Rune pull in a deep breath, then step toward me. He walked carefully to where I waited. He slid his hand into mine, his touch sending flares of light and love through my body.

Rune’s eyes were dark, almost black, his dilated pupils blotting out the blue. His need was as strong as mine, his love proven and his trust so complete.

A calm flooded through me like a river. I let it in, and led Rune into the bedroom and closed the door. The atmosphere thickened around us. Rune’s intense, assessing eyes watched my every move.

Knowing I had his unwavering attention, I released his hand and stepped back. Lifting my trembling fingers, I began unfastening the large buttons of my coat, our locked gazes never wavering as the coat opened and I slowly let it drop to the floor.

Rune’s jaw tensed as he watched, his fingers opening and closing at his sides.

I slipped off my shoes, my bare feet sinking into the plush carpet. Taking a fortifying breath, I stepped across the carpet and over to where Rune stood, waiting. When I stopped before him, I lifted my eyes, lids heavy with the onslaught of feelings within me.

Rune’s broad chest rose and fell, the tight white t-shirt under his blazer showcasing his toned chest. Feeling a flush coat my cheeks, I gently laid my palms over his chest. Rune stilled as my warm hands touched him. Then, keeping my eyes locked on his, I slid my hands to his shoulders, freeing him from his blazer. The jacket fell to the floor at his feet.

I breathed in three times, fighting to control the nerves suddenly racing through me. Rune didn’t move. He remained completely still, letting me explore; I ran my hand down over his stomach, over to his arm, and took his hand with my own. I lifted our clasped hands to my mouth, and in a move so familiar to us both, I kissed our intertwined fingers.

“This is how they should always be,” I whispered, gazing at our woven fingers.

Rune swallowed and nodded his head in silent agreement.

My feet stepped back, and back again. I led us toward the bed. The comforter was pulled back, turned down by the maid service. And the closer I got to this bed, the more my nerves settled and a peace set within me. Because this was right. Nothing, no one, could tell me this was wrong.

Pausing before the edge of the bed, I released our hands. Driven by desire, I took hold of the hem of Rune’s shirt and slowly brought it over his head. Helping me, Rune threw the t-shirt to the floor, leaving him standing with his torso bare.

Rune slept like this every night, but there was something about the charged static in the atmosphere and the way he’d made me feel with tonight’s surprise that made this different.

It was different.

It was poignant.

But it was us.

Lifting my hands, I pressed my palms to his skin and ran my fingertips over the peaks and valleys of his abdominals. Rune’s skin bumped in my wake, his labored breath hissing through his slightly parted lips.

As my fingers explored his broad chest, I leaned forward and pressed my lips over his heart. It was racing like a hummingbird’s wings.

“You’re perfect, Rune Kristiansen,” I whispered.

Rune’s fingers rose to thread through my hair. He guided my head up. I kept my eyes lowered until the final second, when I finally looked up and met his crystal-blue gaze. His eyes were glistening.

Rune’s full lips opened and he whispered, “Jeg elsker deg.”

He loved me.

I nodded to show that I’d heard him. But my voice had been stolen by the moment. By the preciousness of his touch. I stepped back, Rune’s eyes tracking my every move.

I wanted them to.

Lifting my hand to the strap on my shoulder, I steeled my nerves and dropped it down my arm. Rune’s breathing stuttered as I freed the other strap, the silk dress pooling at my feet. I forced my arms down by my side, most of my body revealed to the boy I loved beyond anything else in the world.

I was bared, showing the scars I’d obtained over the course of two years. Showing all of me—the girl he’d always known, and the battle scars from my unwavering fight.

Rune’s gaze dropped to run over me. But there was no disgust in his eyes. I saw only the purity of his love shining through. I saw only want and need, and above all … his whole heart exposed.