Page 126 of The Silversmith

The room shook. Trembled beneath his lethal fury.

I shrank back from him—not afraid of him or what he could do to me but afraid of whatever fueled a rage so hot and malicious.

Seeing my shock, he forced an even breath and added, “Yet. He’s not your husband yet, and you are not his wife.” The words rumbled out of him—a low, malicious growl. “To him, you’re just an idea, but to me…” His hands were soft on my face before he twisted his fingers in my hair. “You are the air in my lungs. You are light and life. You are the reason I open my eyes every morning and brave this world. You are the tonic to my nightmares, the angel that defies my demons.”

“Then be with me!” I placed my palms on his chest. “You took time, you took moments, so take me!” My fingers wrinkled his clean black shirt. “I know it’s going to hurt to say goodbye, but—”

“No!” he gritted out. “You don’t know! You have no idea how well I know it hurts!”

My pulse raced, driven by the iron grip that restricted and caressed. Kept me at distance, yet held me close. A push and pull that would shatter me.

“I refuse to make this more difficult for you than it already is.”

“It’s my choice!” I pressed.

“And you don’t know what you’re asking me to do to you by honoring your choice.”

“Yes, I do.” I reached up to cup his jaw, savoring the rough feel of his beard beneath my fingers. “They’ve chosen Elias to be my husband, but right now, I want you. If it’s true he hasn’t bothered to hold anything out for me, I see no reason why I should either.”

He scowled and tried to pull away, but I lifted my other hand to his face, keeping him there.

“I can decide this for myself. I am safe with you.”

He softened at this, gently squeezing my wrists.

“I’m whole, every part of me protected and cared for.” I swallowed though nerves, forcing them back down to my stomach. There was no time for nerves. “I want you to be my first.”

I inhaled sharply at the sight of his rage—that lethal eruption of fury—that blazed in his eyes. “Your first,” he uttered, scowling, like something vile had touched his tongue. He loosened his grip on me and slowly retreated. “Your first?”

“Yes.”

“No!” he snarled.

I flinched, cowering beneath him, as if the voice of a god had thundered through the clouds to douse my stubborn fire with an even more unyielding storm. “No.”

“Please!” Sadness and anger splintered through my voice. “For gods’ sake, tell me what I have to do to make you want to fuck me!”

Cold anguish stared back at me. Shadows whispered inside his deep-brown gaze, begging to be set free. I had seen that look only once before. Hurt. Rejection. When I first dared to call him my friend.

“Is that what you want, Ella?” He took slow, dangerous steps toward me.

I retreated out of instinct until my back hit the wall.

“Do you want me to fuck you?” Gavin pressed against me, his hands on both sides of my head.

His whole body hard.

“Yes,” I breathed.

“You want me to fuck you so you know what it’s like to be taken before you go to your precious betrothed?” he hissed through gritted teeth and brushed his lips against my forehead. “Before you run off to marry another man?”

I blinked out a tear, fighting the ache in my chest, the need in my core. “Y-yes.”

“And you ask me…” His voice was low and dangerous, rumbling through me. “What you need to do for me to want it?”

“Yes.”

His response was a deep, growling hum. “You need only exist for me to want to fuck you. You don’t have to do anything. I have to do everything to not!” He slammed his fist into the wall beside my head, and I felt the world around me tremble beneath him. His breath, hot on my neck, sent goose bumps up my spine, and his violent fist caressed the length of my jaw down to my collarbone. “Let me tell you what I truly want, Aryella.”