Page 104 of Echoes of the Raven
“Aren’t you—?”
“We’ll take two.” Rífíor appears behind me, picks up two masks, and throws down more coins than necessary in front of the man. He pulls me aside by one arm, his strong fingers digging into my skin.
“Hey, that hurts. Let me go!”
Seemingly recovered from his drunkenness, he says, “It doesn’t take you long to find trouble, doesn’t it? If he has not figured out who you are by now, he soon will. Here, put this on.” He tosses the black mask in my general direction, and I catch it before it hits the ground.
I tie the silk ribbon behind my head, the smooth material gliding between my fingers. Rífíor does the same with his mask, dark eyes glancing back at the vendor.
“He is still looking this way,” he grumbles, then seizes my hand and pulls me into the throng of dancers, effortlessly twirling me around before drawing me into his embrace as the crowd swirls around us.
The next thing I know, he’s guiding me dexterously to the rhythm of the music. I fall easily into the movements, letting him take the lead,enjoying the subtle strength of his arms and the sturdy pressure of his chest against mine. My breath catches as I inhale his delicious musk. This was definitely not in anyone’s predictions, not even El Gran Místico’s.
At first, he’s focused on looking over the crowd, his eyes narrowed, his face etched with suspicion and distrust. But at last, he seems to relax, and once he’s sure we’re out of trouble, he starts releasing me.
Unwilling to let the moment end, I hold on tighter, squeezing his hand and pulling him closer. His perfect, thick eyebrows go up.
“Dance with me a bit longer,” I say. “It’s been a long time since I’ve had such a reprieve.”
“We’re not here to enjoy ourselves, Princess. And what about your wound?”
“It barely hurts,” I lie, moving around is making it smart uncomfortably, but nothing I can’t handle.
Despite his gruff tone, he secures his grip around my waist and leans into the dance with more enthusiasm than I would have expected.
His movements are graceful and practiced, which makes me wonder about his life in Tirnanog before he became a stranded pariah. When the song ends, he twirls me one last time, then pulls me close. My chest hits his, and one of his hands slides from my waist to the middle of my back, fingers splayed.
He gazes down at me, our noses nearly touching. His lower lip trembles, and I see the moment his resolve breaks. Possessive and hungry, he kisses my neck. His tense body feels wild and full of desperation, as if time is running out, and this is the last time we will be this way. I want to pull away from him and search his expression, but I can’t because I also want to stay, kissing him, lost in his embrace.
Breathless, he tears away from me, and I cling to his shirt, trying to keep him in place. He seems lost for an instant, but finding his resolve, he picks me up, turns away from the revelers, and takes me past a line of trees in the back of the plaza.
All around us, I perceive the silhouettes of several couples, tangled in each other’s arms, letting the euphoria of the festivities warm their blood the same way it has warmed ours.
Rífíor takes me deeper and deeper into the woods until we’re utterly alone. There, he pushes me against a tree and traps me in the cage of his arms and the delicious weight of his body. One of his hands wraps around my throat as he looks me over with unbridled hunger.
“What did you do to me, Valeria Plumanegra?” he demands. “This is not meant to be. This cannot be.”
“What cannot be? Tell me?”
Without answering, he kisses my neck again. His body is solid against mine, and the heat of his desire suffuses my skin the way the sun’s warmth does. I pull on the silk ribbon of his mask and release it. It falls to the ground. I do the same with mine. I don’t want anything between us.
As he leans back, his gaze tracks up my body, stopping at my mouth. “Do you want me to touch you, Valeria?”
Yes. Yes. I do.I can’t bring myself to say it, though.
At my lack of response, his eyebrows go up. A tight smirk on his lips, he removes his hand from my neck and, with a shrug, steps back.
“I do,” I blurt out, without thinking.
“Do what?”
I swallow my pride. “I want you to touch me.”
He chuckles and comes closer, his hands landing on my waist, then traveling upward until he cups me. His thumbs press against my nipples. A shock of pleasure leaves me breathless. His mouth comes closer to mine. He licks his lips. I hold his gaze. I still haven’t changed my mind about my no-mouth policy, but I can’t tell whether or not he’s still glad about it.
When he kisses me, his lips come dangerously close to the corner of my mouth. My eyes flutter closed. He trails kisses along my jaw as his thumbs move in lazy circles over my nipples, fueling my desire.
He pulls away as something in the air seems to change. All around us, the forest is muted as if a curtain has come all around us.
