AllFreeNovel
Share Us
His fingers press into me then, trailing a firm path down to the backs of my thighs. Fire ignites within me, crackling everywhere his skin touches mine.
It’s not enough.
Remy must agree, because he gets to his feet without breaking the contact, slipping his tongue into my mouth while he tugs my legs around his waist and walks us both to the massive bed in our room.
He backs onto the mattress, pulling me on top of him and kissing me with a bruising impact, but I don’t mind. Even when his fingers unwittingly press against the lingering injuries on my ribcage, I lean into him. My hands scramble for the laces on his shirt, every part of me screaming for more.
More pressure, more skin, more lies, more of this perfect escape from everything outside this room and whatever pretense of a relationship we share.
Together we move his shirt over his head, and my dress follows it, a whisper of fabric over skin. Then there’s a soft thud of the bundle hitting the floor, and finally the feeling of his warmth against mine that I’ve been craving so desperately.
At least if this is a lie, he sells it well. His eyes drink in the sight of me, his hands pulling me closer like the agony of not having his skin on mine has been every bit the torture for him that Madame’s dungeons were for me.
Maybe this is one more in a long line of my mistakes, but the way our lives are going lately, tomorrow might not come at all. So I lose myself in the endless sensation of his hands and his lips and his teeth grazing my skin.
I lose myself in all that he is, and I can’t find it in me to regret that at all.
CHAPTERTHIRTY-TWO
REMY
Sharp rays of sunlight stab at my eyelids, dragging me reluctantly from the best sleep I’ve had in weeks. It takes me longer than it should to remember why I’m so comfortable.
Once again, Aika’s small body is pressed solidly against me, her face buried in my neck, her hair spilled across my shoulder, her very bare leg thrown over mine.
I suppress a groan as last night comes flooding back to me.
Maybe it was an incredibly asinine thing to do, but I could no sooner have denied her than I could have cut off my own arm. Not when she was looking at me that way, not when I have spent half my waking hours in the past several days trying not to recall what it felt like to be with her.
And now…I should probably find a way to extricate myself before she wakes up and heaves herself away from me again, but I can’t quite bring myself to move her when she’s finally getting rest.
There’s also the small issue of how much I don’t want to.
I sigh, my gaze snagging on her hand where it’s once again clutching at my chest.
I used to think it was adorable, but now…now it just makes me realize that she was always acutely aware that our relationship was temporary.
Though not as temporary as it should have been, if what she said was true.
Madame doesn’t tolerate relationships that don’t benefit her.
For all she claims to be reluctant to go against the woman, she was with me for far longer than she needed to be.
All the mornings she had to race from the room, the way she would disappear from the bar at a moment’s notice or insist on staying in rather than being seen together in the square. All the times I thought she was just being difficult, she was hiding me.
Aika was rebelling against Madame, the most terrifying woman in the kingdom, far before she believed Zaina to be dead. And she was doing it for me.
I reach up to run a hand over my face, wiping the sleep from my eyes, and her body responds to the movement, entwining itself around me even more. Her fingers twitch on my chest as she tries to pull me tighter against her.
Her nails are clear now, free of the blood that edged them when she returned last night, but I can still see the way the crimson coated her skin. Did she torture someone? Take another life? More than one?
Is she going back to do it all again tonight?
For all she talks about choice, she sure as hell hadn’t acted like someone who enjoyed her job when she walked in through the door last night.
The woman in question stirs in my arms, pulling me out of those thoughts. Her eyes finally snap open, her head pulling back until she can peer up at my face.
We stare at each other for a stilted moment, her chest pressing against my side with each of her shallow breaths. She studies my expression, and I wonder if she finds more answers in my features than I’m managing to find in hers.
