Page 127 of The Silversmith

I blinked out a tear. He caught it with his thumb and wiped it away with a gentleness so at odds with his power.

“I want to bury myself inside you.” His voice—dark and lithe like a shadow—cloaked me in forbidden comfort. “I want you naked and writhing with pleasure beneath me. I want my name—only my name—on your lips while you come for me. I want my mouth, my tongue on every surface of your skin, and while I taste you, I want to hear your moans. Your precious, racing heartbeat. Those sweet little pants—” He gripped my chin, his thumb on my lip, “—so that I can lose myself in those sounds—in you—forever. I want you so full of my cum—” I gasped as his hand slid down my jaw and over my throat, “—that there is no space for your power or this war. No space for the rest of this gods-damned world. No space for Elias fucking Winterton. No space for anything or anyone but me. Not your first, not your last, but your only.”

Quiet sobs wrecked me. He pressed a soft, soothing kiss to my forehead. I fought the urge to press for more even though knowing would hurt me. But I lost that fight, because maybe if I could dream of it—of him—my future as queen wouldn’t be so lonely.

“Would you,” I breathed, trembling under his touch, “would you be gentle?”

“For as long as you needed me to be,” he whispered, his lips against my temple. “But then…” His jaw pulsed with restraint.

“But… then?” I gasped as his calloused fingers flexed around my throat.

He growled and tore his hand away, retreating, shaking his head in warning. “By the will of the gods, Ella, one day I will have you—all of you. But not today.”

“Why?”

“Because of the things you don’t know. Because I refuse to make this worse, when I…” His hand returned, now light on my jaw while the other hand lifted to cup my cheek. He drew a soft, whimpering sigh from my chest and stroked my skin with his thumb. “I love you more than I want to fuck you.”

I squeezed my eyes shut, fighting in vain to fend off tears.

He gently kissed each teardrop away. “Yes. I love you.” He pressed a chaste kiss to my forehead, then my nose, summoning more of my tears. “Gods, I love you, my Ella.”

“You can’t love me,” I cried. Saying it aloud eclipsed any remaining hope. “You can’t.”

“But I do.” He took my chin between his thumb and index finger. “I’ve loved you for longer than you know.”

“If you,” I breathed, infusing my voice with strength, “if you love me, then you’ll honor my wishes. Before I go to those Caves and have to become everything they expect of me. If you care for me, Gavin, you’ll do this one thing I ask.”

Compassion and longing surged through his gaze, seized my heart, and coiled behind my sternum.

“I will not.” His voice was too sure, too stubborn. “I will not yield on this.”

“Gavin, people have sex with each other all the time.”

“Not like this.”

“Yes, like this!” I snapped, as if I really knew. “Gemma and Finn—”

“We are not Gemma and Finn.”

“Then what are we?” Angry tears blasted a crevice through my remaining composure. But I was safe with him, with my wild and irresponsible emotions. “Because I’ve never wanted anything like I want you. I feel nothing but you, all the time, every gods-damned moment! You are the only thing that makes sense to me, and I’m not afraid of whatever it is you think is going to hurt me!” I captured his stare to prove it true. “And I know I can’t have you forever, but I want you tonight!”

As he held my tearful face in his hands and looked down at me, apologetic but unwavering in his resolve, I knew his answer was still no.

“Then kiss me,” I croaked out, mouth dry.

“I’m trying to protect you.” He pleaded for me to understand, but all I could feel was the tingling heat his thumb left on my cheek. “I’m trying to protect your heart.”

“And I’m begging you,” my voice cracked, “to give me something to remember. Something that only belongs to me. To us.” My pulse pounded in my ears. I rested my small palms on his face and soaked in the rough and rugged feel of his bearded jaw beneath my fingers. “We can’t control my future, but we can control this. We can control tonight, and tonight,” I leaned closer, “it’s just you and me. If you love me, the least you can do is kiss me.”

He clenched his jaw in silent denial.

But I knew his jealousy and need for control were his catalysts.

It was a dirty game, but I was going to play it anyway.

I wasn’t prideful enough to pretend I wasn’t desperate for him.

“Please kiss me before anyone else does.” Guilt crept up my spine at what I was about to say. “Before Elias kisses me.”