Right before his lips touched hers, she pulled back.
"What are we?" she whispered. "Because I am not your friend, and we’re not enemies—I don’t think so, at least." She couldn’t look at him as she added, "I don’t... love you."
He stilled against her. "We can be whatever you want. Enemies, lovers, something in between. Nameless."
Luella liked that. Something undefined. Something she could survive.
She didn’t trust Graves, but she enjoyed his touch, enjoyed the things he’d shown her. Couldn’t that be enough?
"Nameless, then." She touched the scar on his face. "Sorren," she mused. "Do you—wish for me to call you that?" The words dripped with bitterness.
"Never. Not unless you wish to be punished." His grip tightened.
She blanched. "You cannot punish me. I am not a babe."
Luella felt a twitch against her palm as he smiled. The hair along his jaw was scratchy like his gloves.
His other hand reached up to cup the base of her throat; he squeezed lightly, not enough to cut off her air, but enough to hold the promise of it.
He tugged her onto his lap, and his hand came striking down on her bottom.
She gave a stuttering, shocked sound.
It was demeaning—why did it make something in her lower belly clench?
Luella’s hands found his shoulders as he kissed her. His hand stayed on her backside, smoothing the faint ache he’d left there.
A day had passed since he’d taken her to the waterfall, yet the hesitance in her body made it feel like it had never happened. He kissed her deeper, his hand still kneading softly against her flesh.
Graves broke away, tugging free a glove with his teeth. It dropped between them.
The promise he’d made her at the waterfall echoed in her mind as he rolled up the hem of her gown and plunged his bare fingers between her slick heat.
The sky grew dark and the air grew fierce and her thighs clenched as he touched her.
She wanted totakefrom him until he had nothing left to give—a small return for all the lies he’d told.
She didn’t touch him, but let him touch her. Her head tipped back, gasping into the treetops as she reached her peak.
It wassomuch?—
She had to shove at him to get him to stop.
He seemed to love pushing her, hurtling her straight toward another pinnacle. She couldn’t stand the pleasurable abuse.
He pulled his hand from between her thighs. She shifted, feeling his hardness underneath her.
She reached for him, but his fingers wrapped around her wrist.
"Not tonight. I’m too high-strung for you right now. What I want is darker than you can give."
Ordinarily, she’d feel embarrassed, but the warning was said in pain, through gritted teeth. She inhaled sharply, nodded, and placed her trembling palms on his chest.
He tucked her head against the crook of his neck, holding her.
Her eyes closed as the rhythm of his heartbeat, rustling leaves, and rushing wind became a lullaby.
His hand traced over her wings, sending shivers down her spine. When he felt her tense, he paused until her trembling subsided, then he began again.
