Page 116 of House of the Raven
What if I don’t have another chance? What if the danger I’ve been warned about ends it all and I never feel this way again? In a split second, my heart makes a decision, determined to follow Amira’s advice. I walk toward the door, bare feet padding over the rug. The texture tickles my soles, making me aware of how sensitive every inch of my skin is.
Pushing away the fear of his rejection, I open the door. Bastien is standing a foot away, his fist raised as if he was about to knock.
He lowers his hand as those dark eyes rove over my body.
“W-would you like to come in?” I say.
His chest moves like big bellows. His angular features seem sharper, wild somehow, and I feel like prey to his predator.
“I should not,” he answers hoarsely.
“Do you often refrain from doing what you want? Because I have a habit of doing precisely the opposite.”
I reach for his hand. Our touch is electric. He blinks slowly. He felt it, too. I know. Pulling gently, I guide him inside and close the door.
A few candles burn over the mantle and combined with the moonlight seeping through the balcony, I can see him well enough. His eyes are dark pits that hide everything from me. I know nothing about this man, and yet I want him. The emotions coursing through me right now, the intensity with which his eyes consume me, I understand that this is no ordinary connection. This attraction isn’t something that can be contrived or taken lightly.
“Take me. Make me yours.” I press a hand to his cheek and guide his lips to mine.
His mouth is a breath away from mine when he stops and says, “We should not, Valeria.Ishould not. You’ll hate me later.”
“It’s only you and me tonight. There’s no yesterday, no tomorrow. Only this moment matters.”
These words pierce through his defenses like a rapier through flesh, unleashing his ill-restrained desire. His mouth crashes into mine. I meet his kiss with matching fervor. His arms wrap around me, and we stumble until my back is to the wall and his body is flush against mine. His tongue slips into my mouth, warm and insistent.
My body shudders as he growls like a wild creature. His hands caress my shoulders, cup my face, slide down my sides. They’re everywhere, and yet it’s not enough. I need more. The spark we set alight the other night has lingered between us, steadily heating up, and now it has finally erupted, igniting a pyre that may consume us.
His strong hands slide down my backside, and abruptly my feet come off the floor, and he’s pinning me against the wall, his middle pressed to mine, his hips moving rhythmically. I throw my head back as he rubs against me, the feeling is exquisite, and I can’t fathom how it could get much better, but something tells me it will.
His tongue traces a path up my exposed neck, then he bites me hard enough to make me hiss. As if taking this as a sign, his kisses slow, growing tender. Carefully, he leans back, carries me toward the bed. There, he sets my feet on the floor, as if needing my permission to go further.
Wrapping my arms around his neck, I kiss him on the mouth. His eyelids flutter closed, and I can’t believe a touch from my lips can penetrate his strong barriers so easily. My hands slide down—over his chest and abdomen—enjoying every well-defined ridge and valley. I don’t know what about this man makes me brave, but my hands slide further down, moving over his length.
Gods, he’s big.
He groans and takes this as his permission to do as he pleases. Lifting me off the floor with ease, he sets me in the middle of the bed and resumes kissing me, his lips more determined to explore every section of my body.
In turn, I kiss him. His mouth, his jaw, his neck. He tastes of freedom and abandon, two things I never thought I would find in a man.
I feel his body and hardness through my thin nightgown, but it isn’t enough.
“This isn’t fair.” I push him away and sit.
He blinks, his eyes dark pits of lust. I give him no time to formulate a thought and work on the buttons of his jacket. When that is done, he throws it on the floor and quickly slips his white shirt over his head, revealing the most beautiful male body I have ever seen.
The royal guards train on Nido’s grounds and shirts have always been optional. I’ve seen plenty of bare chests, but none as perfect as Bastien’s. The moonlight seeping past the balcony plays over his golden skin, and I’m jealous of the way it touches him all at once. I want to do the same, so I settle for the closest alternative and let my eyes drink him in.
The width of his shoulders, his expansive chest muscles, the dips and crevices of his abs, the way his torso tapers down to his narrow waist and begins to form aV, the dark hairs traveling down from his navel and disappearing under his trousers.
I touch the tips of my fingers to the silver scars across his chest. It’s subtle, shining under the silver light only when I tilt my head to look at it askance. It’s three jagged lines, running parallel to each other, like claw marks.
Bastien grabs my hand and presses it to his lips. He bestows a kiss, then puts my index finger inside his mouth and sucks it. My core responds and suddenly I’m aware of something slick between my legs. He pushes me back down, nostrils flaring. He glances down and smiles wickedly.
Oh, gods!
He’s kneeling between my legs, his trousers still in the way, but the way his hands are slowly sliding from my knees toward my hips makes me forget all of that. He pushes my nightgown to my waist and growls between his teeth when he realizes I’m wearing nothing else.
“Damn, princess, is there anything about you that won’t make me lose my mind?” he asks, as he places a hand over my belly, his thumb settling at the apex of my mound to trace a circle. “I will come back to you,” he adds, leaning down to press a light kiss on my navel before he trails a path upward, all along pushing my nightgown up and up until I take it off in one swift motion and discard it without a second thought.
