Page 32 of When Ashes Fall

I focused on him as signs of other things sank in. His raw, red skin smelled of cedar, probably from the soap he’d used to clean himself. It mingled with his natural aroma of woods and fresh air.

The two scars running from the center of his forehead, across the top of his right eye, and through his eyebrow were whiter against his red skin. The way he held his square jaw made the small cleft in his chin more visible.

His broad shoulders blocked my view of the room. My fingers itched to trace the black tattoo of vines with its thick thorns running across his upper chest, down his arms, and around his wrists.

Beneath the vines, a single black rose inked the place directly over his heart. The first time I saw his tattoo, I knew he bore it as a reminder of the thorns that kept him prisoner in the harem. I’d come to realize the black rose was a memento of the curse placed upon this kingdom.

He’d donned pants again, though his feet remained as bare as his chest. His torso was as red and raw-looking as his face.

I suspected he’d recently scrubbed himself until he bled while in the shower. He’d done this to rid himself of the memories of what the other casters did to him, but we both knew they’d never wash away. The idea of all those women and men abusing him in such a way caused bile to surge up my throat.

They’d shattered the proud, kind, loving man he was and left this one in their wake. Yet, he wasn’t truly awful, even if he was the biggest prick to walk the kingdoms.

I understood why he was so broken and completely different than the man he used to be, the one I still loved deeply, but he couldn’t stomp all over me every time the mood struck him.

I wanted him, but not like this. I didn’t know if he was trying to rid himself of the memory of them by using me.

Or is he trying to make me pay for their sins?

Seth would never harm me… I wasn’t so sure about Knox.

“I don’t want this,” I said.

“I bet your pussy begs to differ.”

Oh, it was definitely begging to have him fill it again, but it didn’t matter. “You’re right, but I don’t want it like this.”

He bent his head to my neck, and his breath fanned over the marks he’d left there years ago; I shivered, and my nipples hardened. He knew all the deliciously wicked things he made me feel as he used his finger to rub circles around my clit.

“Like what?” he asked.

His breath feathered my ear before he nipped my lobe. When his lips skimmed my neck, I released the counter to grip his arms. If I didn’t hold him, I’d fall flat on my face.

“I still make your knees go weak,” he murmured.

When he bent his head to my throat, I tried to stop it, but my head fell back and my breasts arched toward him. For ten years, I’d dreamed of being with this man again, and we deserved a distraction from memories and destinies we’d prefer to forget.

What will be the outcome if you do?

I suspected he’d hate me even more… no, not me, he’d hate himself more. He didn’t want to desire me; he just couldn’t help it. He could deny it, but I was his mate.

Gripping his arms, I turned my head away as his finger wrenched an involuntary moan from me. When he smiled against my chest, I clamped my thighs together.

“No,” I said. “Either stop, or you’ll have to force me.”

It took a few seconds for my words to sink in. When they did, his hand stilled as his body stiffened against mine. When he lifted his head, his mouth was only inches from mine; his eyes burned with desire and something else.

“Your body is begging for me to fuck you,” he growled.

“No, this isn’t right.”

“Why not?”

“Because I can’t make things better for you. This won’t make things better.”

“I don’t want to make things better,” he snarled. “I want to hear you beg for more. I’m so fucking broken, Briar. Be broken with me.”

His words stole my breath as my mouth parted. It took me too long to respond. “I’d rather heal with you.”