Page 98 of Why Broken Wings Fray

It was his turn to swallow, his throat bobbing as he refused to look away from me. But second by second, the shadows were lifting, making way for the raw expression of desire that I had come to know from the pixies. The blowing out of their pupils, the flaring of their nostrils, the pointed-state of their eyes.

“Just tonight,” I said, not believing it for a second, as I stepped towards him. “I know that you cannot give me more than that, Raegan. But let us run away from it all, together, for just one night.”

Another swallow, his throat tightening, the veins on his neck slowly lifting.

I took another small, cautious step towards him, stopping only to pull the scattered state of my hair up and behind my head. He watched me, his gaze intense and unwavering as the King of Talamh simply froze. The look in his eyes, the slight slant to his head, told me all I needed to know – he was completely at my mercy as I prowled closer.

His mouth opened, a thought slipping from his brain at last, but he closed it just as quickly.

I moved closer.

His knees touched my thighs, and I used one hand to pry a small gap between his legs. He allowed me to move him, to bend his body and his mind in whatever way I desired. With a cat-like grin, I slipped between his legs and placed myself as close to him as I could.

I had never known Raegan to be nervous, but his hands shook as he lifted them towards me. He flexed them, twice, before he allowed the brash ends of his fingers to fit gently on the curve of my waist. In his grip, held gently yet intentionally by him, everything melted away. And for once it wasn’t a form of escape or a form of avoidance, but it was a type of acceptance and relief that allowed me to let go of everything else, to be present only for him and with him.

I moved as close as I could, until his chin was on my breastbone and he was watching my face between his brows.

“I never got that dance,” he murmured, his breath warm against my skin. The shiver that licked my spine was delicious in every way, forcing me to arch so that I was impossibly closer. That subtle movement bore an approving noise from Raegan as his grip tightened on my waist, his eyes darkening not with that previous defeat but with a vicious hunger.

“I am sure there will be many more.”

He nodded softly, his eyes lost within mine as he continued to stare. “You are… transcendent, Olivia.”

My throat was thick as I swallowed, the weight of his words crashing against me. “Remove my dress, Your Majesty.”

His renewed grin was wicked and promising as he nodded once more, his eyes round as he obeyed my command. Without urgency, Raegan pinched at the length of the tattered and bloodied remnants of my dress, slowly gathering more and more until it sat around the mid of my thigh and he was lost in the subtle movements. Every brush of his fingers against the silk material sent a shudder through me that transferred into him, the two of us distracted by the simplest of our senses.

He continued in his craft of gathering, until he had the majority of it at the bodice. Without sacrificing much distance between us, he pulled the whole thing clean over my shoulders and freed my head from it, letting out a sharp breath as the entirety of me was revealed to him.

His eyes didn’t know where to look first, but they ended up darting to a small patch of skin on my left, hovering around the bottom of my ribcage.

Moving over the skin with his hand, he frowned. “What is this?”

Matching his frown, I twisted awkwardly to get a look at the skin that peered out just beneath my breast, only to let out a gasp and feel the immediate desire to flee.

His legs pressed against me, keeping me still in a cage of his limbs. “What is it?”

“It’s a… Well, it’s a tattoo.”

“A tattoo?” His head cocked to the side, curiosity glistening in his eyes. “I have heard of them. You have marked your skin permanently?”

Pulling my lower lip between my teeth, I nodded.

“And… What is it?” He tried to maneuver my body, but I remained solid. “Is it…” Then he gasped as he realized what I had tattooed on myself.

“I…” I lost myself in whatever excuse I was planning on spewing, and instead just settled on the truth. “I couldn’t stop thinking about them. About you.”

He looked up at me once more, a moisture in his eyes as he stared.

Because what I had tattooed along my side was a set of wings. Feathered and elegant, just as I remembered his being.

“Olivia, I… I do not know what to say.”

I placed a hand beneath his chin and used my hooked finger to draw his face closer to mine. “You do not need to say anything.”

I watched his throat bob as his eyes flicked between my face and my tattoo. “You truly… You truly like them?”

It was heartbreaking to hear the complete disbelief of his question.