Page 104 of Dance of Stars and Ashes

“Are you done with the fireworks?”

Had they started? She looked up as a cascade of light rocked overhead, flooding the world in blue, red, and yellow. She hadn’t heard a thing.

“What fireworks?” Zarya asked, and Rabin smiled against her mouth.

“Then let’s get the fuck out of here.”

TWENTY-NINE

Rabin took her hand, and they pushed through the crowds. More fireworks detonated in showers of light as they made their way back to the hotel and up to Zarya’s room.

The door nearly ripped off its hinges when Rabin slammed it behind them and pressed her into the wall, his hands roaming over every inch of her body. There was decadence in the relief of finally giving herself over to this. Being angry. Being skeptical. It was exhausting. But this was like finding a breath at the bottom of an ocean.

“If I do anything you don’t want, tell me, Zarya,” Rabin said as he slid the straps of her dress down her shoulders. “Promise me.”

“I want everything,” Zarya replied, meaning it with every bursting chamber of her heart. She wanted to be consumed by him until there was nothing left but a smile on her face. “Don’t hold anything back.”

He pressed his hands against the wall and leaned towards her. “You’re sure about that? Because, gods, the filthy things I want to do to you.”

“I am,” she said, sliding her hands under his kurta, exploring the exquisite ridges and dips of his muscles. He felt exactly like she’d imagined so many times she’d lost count. He went still with his eyes closing as she ran her fingers over his chest and stomach and then up his back. He shivered as if he, too, was finally catching his breath.

His eyes opened, and he reached behind his head, yanking off his kurta, allowing her unfettered access to the topography of his skin.

When it seemed he could no longer cling to his composure, he made a ragged sound as he crushed himself against her. The feeling of his warm skin was like being dipped in liquid silk.

Slowly, he pushed down her dress, sliding it over her hips and letting it fall to the floor. He stopped and backed up, rubbing his chin as his gaze rolled over her like a burning flame held to her skin or a match sparking against dry kindling.

Her legs shook, not from fear or nerves but from heady, breathless anticipation. She’d dreamed of a moment like this for so long. With someone just like this. A handsome warrior like the ones in her stories. Someone who would wake her up from her daydreams and remind her she was real.

He continued his slow, hungry perusal before claiming her lips, his tongue plunging into her mouth, his hands cupping her ass before he explored the curve of her throat and the swoop of her collarbone. A hand slid up, cradling her breast before he squeezed it, pulling out a moan. He teased her nipple, rolling it and pinching the sensitive tip hard enough to make her gasp.

Her head fell back as he explored the terrain of her skin with his fingers and his lips.

“I need to taste you again,” he said. “It’s all I’ve been able to think about. I’m going to eat you out until you have to beg me to stop, and then you’ll come on my cock. Do you understand me, Spitfire?”

He said it in that authoritative voice she couldn’t resist, not that she wanted to. She tried to answer him, but whatever response crowded her throat died as he fell to his knees and pressed his nose between her thighs.

“Fuck, you’re fucking perfect,” he said with a rumble. His finger hooked into her underwear, drawing them down her legs. Then, he stood up and scooped her into his arms before carrying her to the bed.

He laid her down and then unbuttoned his pants. Zarya leaned up on her elbows to watch him undress, riveted to all six-plus feet of his fierce male beauty. Her gaze fell on his thick cock that stood hard and erect, her eyes widening at the sight. He was… big. A lot bigger than she had imagined and definitely very different from the fishing boy in Lahar.

“You look worried,” he said with a smirk as he climbed over her.

“I… What… Is that going to fit?”

He chuckled softly. “It will fit.”

She nodded with a knot lodged in her throat. “If you say so,” she whispered.

He lowered himself onto her, his delicious weight pinning her to the mattress. He kissed, and she squirmed beneath him, craving friction between her damp thighs. He made a low, throaty laugh, sensing her impatience.

“Are you ready for another apology?” he asked, and she blew out a shaky breath.

“Yes, please.”

“I knew I’d wear you down, eventually.”

She breathed out a laugh. “Don’t push your luck.”