Page 194 of Vasmora

Tears wavered in my eyes as I tried imagining the two of us together from that point on. His quiet suffering, finding moments to give himself the pain he craved. Neither of us ever baring our true selves again.

Hot coils of anger burned inside of me. “That is exactly what she wants. To come between us. Destroy us. That is how she wins after she dies, and I won’t allow it.” I straddled his legs, both hands cupping either side of his face. “I love you. No matter what, it will always be you and me.”

He ran his hand down my hair. “Always,” he said, gripping my nape and dragging me to his lips.

When I reached down into the water with my gloved hand, taking hold of his length, his hand swallowed mine.

“No. I want to try without the pain.”

“You don’t have to do this, Zevander. I will silence those voices.”

He ran his knuckles across my cheek. “What I wouldn’t give to crave only pleasure with you.” Eyes riveted there, he caressed my bottom lip with his thumb. “Denying myself of you can be as painful as a blade.”

“That’s what you intend to do? Deny yourself?”

“For as long as I can stand it.”

“And you believe this will keep you from reaching for your dagger?”

His brow flickered. “No. But I want to try, anyway. For you.”

Threading my fingers through his hair, I rested my forehead against his. “Then, I will make this as painful as I can for you.”

A wild glint lit his eyes and his lips twitched as if he wanted to smile. At his nod, I released him, wrapping my arms around his muscled shoulders instead.

He kissed my neck, forcing my head back as he made his way down my throat to my breast. His tongue laved my nipple, and I arched back, offering myself to him. Kissing his way back up to my throat, he pulled me upright. “Allow me to wash your hair.”

With a nod, I twisted around on his lap, my back to his chest, and tipped my head back. Warm soap oozed over my hair, and his strong fingers massaged my scalp as he worked it into a lather. Slow and meticulous.

My eyelids grew heavy, his deft fingertips stroking rhythmic circles against my skull while the scent of jasmine enveloped my senses. A nudge of my chin forced my head back, and he poured a brass pitcher of bath water over my hair, tenderly combing his fingers through the strands as he rinsed the soap away. A restless ache stirred low in my belly and throbbed in my core. His gentle caresses kindled a desperate need to be touched, and I circled my hips, rubbing myself against his muscled thigh.

As his hands moved to my hips, he let out a groan. “Use my leg as if you were lying in bed with your pillow between your thighs,” he whispered.

Palms planted against his knees, I sucked my bottom lip between my teeth, grinding harder against his muscles, strong hands guiding me, damn near crushing my bones, but while the delicious friction was pleasurable, it wasn’t enough. Not nearly enough. My muscles shook as I focused on a single spot, dragging my swollen sex over his wet skin. Desperate for more.

The sound of my quiet grunts and moans echoed around us, his hands smoothing over my curves, pushing my hips against his leg.

“This fucking world could collapse into the pits of Nethyria right now and the only thing I’d long for is to be inside you when it falls.” His comment pulled a smile that faded when I turned my focus back to his thigh rubbing against me.

My breaths turned shallow, the need curling inside of me. My muscles tensed and coiled as I rocked against his thigh.

“Do you want more?” he murmured.

I could only muster a frantic nod, my throat tight, breaths shallow and broken.

A firm tug of my hair urged me against his chest, while his knees pressed into my straddling thighs, widening them. The feeling of a thousand hummingbirds trapped in my stomach left me biting my lip, legs trembling.

At first, he kept me that way–open and waiting. Desperately craving his next move. I could almost feel those strong fingers filling me, dissolving the burgeoning ache that had me squirming against him. That deep, sinister voice coaxing me like a devil in my ear.

“Please,” I begged. “Touch me.” I arched toward him, grinding against his thighs and groin.

“At this rate, I won’t have the strength to control myself.” He reached around, and two fingers slid up inside me, the water offering a slick glide as he drove them in and out in a maddeningly slow pace.

A feeling of utter relief washed over me, my thighs quivering as he held his fingers to the first knuckle, caressing my entrance.

Eager and restless, I circled my hips against him, his erection prodding my bottom, and he shoved his fingers deeper, his thumb tickling the bud of nerves that had me arching against him. Reaching back to wrap my arms around his neck, I raised my hips with every thrust of his finger. “Please, Zevander.”

“Please what?”