A Dance with Darkness
Page 6
“You lied to your friends,” I reminded him. “You could have alerted them to my presence and they’d have killed me.”
He kissed my throat and brushed his lips against my skin as he spoke. “They most certainly would have.”
“You saved my life. Isn’t that our secret?”
One side of his mouth pulled into a tempting smile. “That is our first secret.”
I almost laughed, but I knew we had to be quiet. “You want more secrets with me?”
“I want a thousand.” He lifted a hand, slipped my mask over my head, and paused to look at me before tossing the mask behind him. His fingers toyed with the thread woven through my dark hair, untied knots, and removed ribbons until my hair fell around my shoulders and was free. He dropped my hood and net to the ground. My entire body trembled and I was undone.
“Madeleine,” I whispered. “My name is Madeleine.”
His eyes were blue fire, like twin stars burning into mine. He was beautiful in the moonlight. “Madeleine.” My name slowly rolled off his tongue just before his lips met mine. His kiss was hard and scorching, overflowing with a predatory hunger that made my lips at his mercy. He was all over me like a wildfire, his hands cupping my face, fingers threading through my unbound hair, closing around the silk of my dress and tugging at it—tugging me closer to him. He could not be satisfied by kisses and neither could I. He broke from my lips and I felt his teeth graze my jaw before he buried his face in my hair and breathed deep. I turned my face to his, questing for his lips again, and he greeted me voraciously as his hands tightened on my body.
I bit my lip and whirled out from behind the curtain, tearing myself away from him. He followed me and thrashed the curtain out of his path. I stopped in the middle of the room, begging myself to run for the door, but my feet had rooted to the ground. My mind was screaming at me, but I couldn’t go. I didn’t want to. I needed to know him, to understand him. I needed to be with him. But this was Bastian—Bastian, for God’s sake—a demonic reaper with one hell of a reputation for mayhem. He would kill me as quickly as he would kiss me.
He took my wrist, his thumb brushing across the tender skin over my pulse, and he kissed me there. “Please don’t run away, Madeleine.”
I grabbed his shirt collar with my free hand and pulled him down to me. I kissed him fiercely, reluctant to let him go again as my heart and head waged their war. I turned and pushed him, guiding him toward the giant canopied bed. He sat down on the mattress, his orphic cerulean eyes glued to mine, and I climbed over his lap, my dress like a violet waterfall over the edge of the bed, and I pressed my hand into his chest until his back sank into the blankets. I leaned over him and kissed him slowly and luxuriously, the pleasure of it reminding me of what it was like to smooth my hand over fine silk. When I pulled away, I lifted a hand to call my sword and the silver blade emerged out of nothingness. I could kill him. I could plunge my sword into his heart faster than he could roll out of its path. He was at my mercy now.
He watched the sword in my hand, knowing what I was about to do, but my hesitation and the heat of my gaze gave away my true desire. I could feel the burn and pressure behind my eyes as their green fire blazed with my raging emotions. Bastian raised his own hands and began to loosen the laces closing the front of my dress, unwinding the spiral knotting with precision—where I always fumbled over my laces, he had finesse. My heart raced faster and desire disoriented me, but I didn’t stop him, not even when he tugged my dress down to my hips. With a growl of frustration, I brought the sword down and stabbed it through the bed, clear of his skin. Then he pulled me down to him and flipped my body beneath his.
“You should stay the night,” he whispered against my lips as he caught his breath. “Until dawn, at least.” He pushed up the folds of my dress and wrapped a hand around my thigh, tugging me closer to him. He kissed me again. “You’ll be safe to flee then. The others won’t be able to follow you into the sunlight.”
“Neither will you,” I said between kisses, holding his face in my hands. “I could flee from you too.”
He pulled away and his eyes searched mine. “Do you want to?”
I couldn’t say it aloud—couldn’t force the words out of me—so I replied by kissing him more. I fitted my bare skin against his body and drank him in.
“Is this even your room?” I asked him some time later as I swirled my fingertip over his chest. My blood was still singing all the way to my toes and the light-headedness had still not yet gone.
His eyes did not open as he huffed, and a catlike grin spread across his lips. I had to force myself not to kiss those lips again. Mine were so swollen still that they ached. “I don’t know whose room this is,” he replied, “but we put it to excellent use.”
“I hope the rightful occupant doesn’t return anytime soon.”
“Don’t worry,” he said dismissively, opening his eyes to gaze at me. “This is a guest room. Evantia wouldn’t have had us meet someplace we would be interrupted or overheard—yet, that’s precisely what happened, unbeknownst to her. Will I see you again?”
I grinned. “Haven’t you seen enough of me?”
His own smile grew dark and sly. “What if there’s a spot I missed?”
I laughed, realizing it was the first time I’d allowed myself to laugh at one of his jokes, and my laughter seemed to make him brighten. It felt good to let down my guard and be with him. I was a soldier, and we did not have the opportunity to let down our guards. With Bastian, I felt as though I’d never need to put it back up. “In all seriousness—”
He kissed my throat and brushed his lips against my skin as he spoke. “They most certainly would have.”
“You saved my life. Isn’t that our secret?”
One side of his mouth pulled into a tempting smile. “That is our first secret.”
I almost laughed, but I knew we had to be quiet. “You want more secrets with me?”
“I want a thousand.” He lifted a hand, slipped my mask over my head, and paused to look at me before tossing the mask behind him. His fingers toyed with the thread woven through my dark hair, untied knots, and removed ribbons until my hair fell around my shoulders and was free. He dropped my hood and net to the ground. My entire body trembled and I was undone.
“Madeleine,” I whispered. “My name is Madeleine.”
His eyes were blue fire, like twin stars burning into mine. He was beautiful in the moonlight. “Madeleine.” My name slowly rolled off his tongue just before his lips met mine. His kiss was hard and scorching, overflowing with a predatory hunger that made my lips at his mercy. He was all over me like a wildfire, his hands cupping my face, fingers threading through my unbound hair, closing around the silk of my dress and tugging at it—tugging me closer to him. He could not be satisfied by kisses and neither could I. He broke from my lips and I felt his teeth graze my jaw before he buried his face in my hair and breathed deep. I turned my face to his, questing for his lips again, and he greeted me voraciously as his hands tightened on my body.
I bit my lip and whirled out from behind the curtain, tearing myself away from him. He followed me and thrashed the curtain out of his path. I stopped in the middle of the room, begging myself to run for the door, but my feet had rooted to the ground. My mind was screaming at me, but I couldn’t go. I didn’t want to. I needed to know him, to understand him. I needed to be with him. But this was Bastian—Bastian, for God’s sake—a demonic reaper with one hell of a reputation for mayhem. He would kill me as quickly as he would kiss me.
He took my wrist, his thumb brushing across the tender skin over my pulse, and he kissed me there. “Please don’t run away, Madeleine.”
I grabbed his shirt collar with my free hand and pulled him down to me. I kissed him fiercely, reluctant to let him go again as my heart and head waged their war. I turned and pushed him, guiding him toward the giant canopied bed. He sat down on the mattress, his orphic cerulean eyes glued to mine, and I climbed over his lap, my dress like a violet waterfall over the edge of the bed, and I pressed my hand into his chest until his back sank into the blankets. I leaned over him and kissed him slowly and luxuriously, the pleasure of it reminding me of what it was like to smooth my hand over fine silk. When I pulled away, I lifted a hand to call my sword and the silver blade emerged out of nothingness. I could kill him. I could plunge my sword into his heart faster than he could roll out of its path. He was at my mercy now.
He watched the sword in my hand, knowing what I was about to do, but my hesitation and the heat of my gaze gave away my true desire. I could feel the burn and pressure behind my eyes as their green fire blazed with my raging emotions. Bastian raised his own hands and began to loosen the laces closing the front of my dress, unwinding the spiral knotting with precision—where I always fumbled over my laces, he had finesse. My heart raced faster and desire disoriented me, but I didn’t stop him, not even when he tugged my dress down to my hips. With a growl of frustration, I brought the sword down and stabbed it through the bed, clear of his skin. Then he pulled me down to him and flipped my body beneath his.
“You should stay the night,” he whispered against my lips as he caught his breath. “Until dawn, at least.” He pushed up the folds of my dress and wrapped a hand around my thigh, tugging me closer to him. He kissed me again. “You’ll be safe to flee then. The others won’t be able to follow you into the sunlight.”
“Neither will you,” I said between kisses, holding his face in my hands. “I could flee from you too.”
He pulled away and his eyes searched mine. “Do you want to?”
I couldn’t say it aloud—couldn’t force the words out of me—so I replied by kissing him more. I fitted my bare skin against his body and drank him in.
“Is this even your room?” I asked him some time later as I swirled my fingertip over his chest. My blood was still singing all the way to my toes and the light-headedness had still not yet gone.
His eyes did not open as he huffed, and a catlike grin spread across his lips. I had to force myself not to kiss those lips again. Mine were so swollen still that they ached. “I don’t know whose room this is,” he replied, “but we put it to excellent use.”
“I hope the rightful occupant doesn’t return anytime soon.”
“Don’t worry,” he said dismissively, opening his eyes to gaze at me. “This is a guest room. Evantia wouldn’t have had us meet someplace we would be interrupted or overheard—yet, that’s precisely what happened, unbeknownst to her. Will I see you again?”
I grinned. “Haven’t you seen enough of me?”
His own smile grew dark and sly. “What if there’s a spot I missed?”
I laughed, realizing it was the first time I’d allowed myself to laugh at one of his jokes, and my laughter seemed to make him brighten. It felt good to let down my guard and be with him. I was a soldier, and we did not have the opportunity to let down our guards. With Bastian, I felt as though I’d never need to put it back up. “In all seriousness—”
