These Twisted Bonds (These Hollow Vows, #2)(107)
He studies every inch of my face, his eyes glowing in the firelight that reflects off the cavern walls. Brushing the pad of his thumb over my bottom lip, he draws in a ragged breath. “How can you be here with me when I’ve done nothing to deserve you?”
“I don’t think love is about what we deserve. It’s an opening of our hearts, not a judgment we make. But Finnian, if I were judging you, I would find you completely deserving of this . . . and more.
Your people don’t follow you because of who your father was. They follow you because of who you are. And they’re your friends, not because of what you can offer them. They’re your friends because they know being around you makes them better and makes their life worthwhile.”
“I’ve made terrible mistakes, Abriella.”
“We all have,” I whisper. “But your mistakes are part of who you are, and I don’t mind them so much. I happen to be in love with exactly who you are. And that has nothing to do with this tethering.”
I drag my bottom lip between my teeth and search for my courage. “Whatever magical connection we have was what drew me to you that first night we met, but it is who you are and the choices you make that made me fall in love with you.”
He closes his eyes and presses his forehead to mine, drawing in a deep, shuddering breath. “I love you too. I desperately want to show you how much.”
“Then why aren’t you kissing me?” I ask. I barely finish the words before his mouth crushes mine and he rolls me to my back, shifting until his thighs bracket one of my legs.
His kiss is like a brand, marking me more permanently than the rune inked on my skin from my bond with Sebastian. Every sweep of his tongue makes the worry knotting my muscles unfurl, guides me to let go for just a minute.
When he breaks the kiss, he doesn’t go far. His mouth is so close to mine I can feel his smile.
“Have I told you that you taste just like you smell?”
I laugh. “After the day we’ve had, I’m not sure that’s a good thing.”
“Like cherries and moonlight.”
“You didn’t kiss me that night,” I say, rubbing my hands up and down his back. “In the shower.”
“No. I didn’t.”
“Why not? I asked you to.”
“Because I wanted your kiss more than anything.” His voice is rough. “I knew you were attracted to me from that first night we met. Between the drugs and that attraction, it would’ve been easy to take what you were offering and work it to my advantage, but I wanted you to ask me when your mind was clear. And I didn’t want the first time I kissed you to be about the crown. Even if it should’ve been.
So I didn’t kiss you. Even though I wanted to.”
“You did kiss my neck.”
His smile is slow and devious. “I’m not a saint, Princess. I had to taste you.”
Need coils hot and low in my belly, and I grab the hem of his shirt and pull, tugging it off over his head. Once it’s gone, my hands explore every inch of his powerful chest, his strong back, the softer skin at the waistband of his pants. “I think I mentioned wanting to taste you too,” I say, stroking the spot over his pelvic bone where I know a bisected five-pointed star is forever tattooed on his skin.
Chuckling, he rests his weight on his forearms while looking down at me. “Trust me, that’s not something I’d be able to forget.” He pulls a lock of hair between two fingers and smiles as he twirls it around his fingers. “This haircut . . .”
“It’s ridiculous,” I say.
“It’s cute.”
“Yes, that’s what every lustful female wants to be. Cute. ”
He laughs. “You’re certainly other things too,” he murmurs. “Shall I compose a list?”
“Hardened, bitter, boring, ” I say. I try to sound light—joking—but my tone reveals far too much of what I really feel.
“Stunning, powerful, persistent, breathtaking, ” he says.
I bite my bottom lip and shift beneath him before reaching up and toying with one of his curls in return.
His eyes are hooded as he gazes down at me. “The night in the shower . . . do you remember what you said to me when I carried you to bed?”
I shake my head. I have no memory of that night beyond the shower. “You said I asked you to stay.”
He nods. “You did. And then you told me that I made you feel as safe as a starry night sky.”
My cheeks heat. “Sounds like I was pretty pathetic.”
He shakes his head. “No. You don’t understand. You were saying everything I wanted to hear. I was pathetic because of how much I wanted to believe the drugs had nothing to do with your confessions.”
“It’s true, though,” I whisper. “I have always drawn strength from you.”
“That’s the tether.”
I shake my head. “Not just magically. I find strength in the way you believe in me. In our friendship. It’s a strength that has nothing to do with my power.”
His silver eyes blaze into mine. “It’s the same for me. I never thought I could feel this again.” He swallows. “I didn’t think I wanted to.”
I shiver beneath him.
“Are you cold?”
I shake my head. “Not anymore.”