Page 103 of Dream in Darkness
“I thought it was what was best for you.”
I lean into her, pressing my forehead into hers. “You don’t get to decide that.”
“I know that now, but I thought it would be selfish to ask you to come with me and give up everything you’ve worked for,” she says, her voice merely a whisper.
I pull back, my brows furrowing. “Why would I have to give anything up? I’m assuming you’re not asking me to sweep the den and live as a housewife. I would still be a spy for The Devil’s Masquerade, still be the representative of the felion.”
“Of course, and we could even still perform in The Sinner’s Circus from time to time. In fact, I think I’d really like to,” she says, fidgeting nervously with her hands.
“So then what would I be giving up?” I can’t comprehend where she got this thought from, but I need to scrub it from her mind.
She shrugs, and for a minute I think she’s not going to answer. Her eyes look tired. “I spent my entire life thinking I was a mistake—that I was unlovable. I think deep down, those same thoughts still creep into the forefront of my mind. I know you can achieve greatness, and I was afraid of ruining that. I didn’t want to be the cause of more destruction.”
I place my hands on her hipbones and pull her back into me, kissing her with more passion than I’ve ever done anything. “The greatest thing in my life is you,” I whisper against her lips.
“I want to do it all over. No political schemes, no planned exits. I want it messy and terrifying and real,” she says. “I want this to be real.”
I feel every emotion possible all at once. Rage over the way her father was able to plant such seeds of doubt and insecurity into her mind. Grief over the childhoods we deserved versus the ones we got. Joy over this declaration of love. Hope at this promise of a future together.
“I know we started this on a bed of lies, but I’m willing to work every day of my life to earn you—to deserve you,” Tempest says, and I lean in and kiss her again.
“Do you remember when we swore not to kiss?” I ask as tears stream down both our faces.
“Yes,” she laughs, the sound like music to my ears. “We were so arrogant.”
Tempest picks me up and places me onto the bed, before she climbs in, wrapping her arms around me. I’m enveloped in her citrusy scent, and a deep sense of desire threads its way through my core.
Moving, I shift one thigh over Tempest’s body, and then the other, straddling her. We just stare into each other’s eyes for a moment before my mouth crashes into hers, rough and needy. The familiar slide of her rough tongue against mine drives me wild, and I ache to touch her. Taste her.
We’ve wasted so much time denying our feelings. I don’t want to waste a second longer.
Our lips part long enough for me to speak, voice heady and breathless. “Do you want me to touch you, princess?”
She nods, her eyes tracking down my body. “Please.”
Tempest sits up, wrapping her arms around me so she can unzip my dress, and I shimmy out of the tight lycra fabric. I lift her beautiful gown up over her head, until her soft breasts and strong abs are bare for me.
I’m practically salivating at the sight.
Her nipples are pink and hard, begging to be touched, and I pull one into my mouth, rolling it with my tongue. Tempest moans, bucking her hips as I sweep my tongue across her chest and suck on the other rosy bud.
Continuing down the length of her body, I press gentle kisses across the muscular planes of her abdomen, moving further down with each one.
She arches into my touch as I kiss her inner thigh and pull off her lace panties,
“Fuck,” I let out at the sight of her, wet and whimpering.
Tempest didn’t want to let me touch her before because she was afraid of becoming too attached.
Now that we’ve laid it all out on the table, I’m going to work toensureshe’s too attached. I plan on ruining her for anyone else.I want to satisfy her so well she can’t even touch herself without thinking of me.
My fingers glide past neatly-trimmed silver hair, and gently part her, running my tongue across every surface of her glistening cunt.
I look up and see Yasmeena’s golden eyes are full of fire, and I can’t help but watch as they roll back in her head. My tongue moves with expert precision, from entrance to clit and back again.
“Yas,” she moans. “Yasmeena. More, please.”
“Anything you want, princess,” I say, before swirling my tongue against her center.
