The room was large, the walls and floors bare, but the bed beneath the window looked clean enough to justify the ridiculous price, the thin curtains above it blowing on the breeze. A single table held a lamp, and as she watched, the Maridrinian turned the flame up high, allowing her to see him more fully than she ever had before.
He was paler than most of his countrymen, who tended to darken in the sun, his shoulder-length hair a dark blond that reminded her of fields of wheat. His eyes were light, although their exact hue was lost in the shadows that danced across his face. And that face… He was beautiful in a way that defied reason, that made her want to stop and stare. That made her want to touch him again, if only to prove he was real. “You really ought to spend more time in the sun.”
A slow smile rose to his face. “But all the best things happen at night.”
The velvet tone of his voice tightened something deep in her core, suggesting that tonight, at least, he was right.
They circled each other, Zarrah setting the book on the table before unfastening the harness that held her staff to her back and dropping it to the ground, her knives following suit.
With her past lovers, all had been conducted in the dark, for she’d never felt comfortable being exposed. But with him, she felt different. She’d already exposed her soul to him, and Zarrah wanted him to see the rest of her.
So she moved to the buckles of her leather corselet, moving slowly down her chest before casting aside the garment. Beneath, she wore only a thin bodice of purple silk, and with a quick jerk, she pulled it over her head, allowing it to flutter to the ground. Her nipples immediately peaked, and her thighs turned liquid as his hungry gaze moved to them.
But when he took a step in her direction, she clicked her tongue and shook her head, not wanting to rush the moment. “Not yet.”
“You’re very domineering, Valcotta.” His hands went to the buttons of his coat. “And I think quite used to giving commands.”
“And to being obeyed.”
He gave a soft growl of frustration but stopped unbuttoning his coat, his eyes never moving from her as she unlaced one boot and then the other before unfastening her belt, her trousers slipping down to reveal she wore nothing underneath.
She heard his breath catch, felt the tension rise as though he were barely contained. As if she might blink and find him across the room, his hands on her naked body and his tongue in her mouth. The thought of it had her slipping her hand between her thighs, fingertips finding her body wet and wanting. Zarrah used one fingertip to circle the sensitive flesh that was the center of her pleasure, leaning her shoulders against the wall, her eyes never leaving his.
“Valcotta,” he murmured, “if this is the torment you envisioned for me, you could have done it from the far side of the dam.”
She smirked. “But then I wouldn’t have known whether it was fear or self-control holding you in place, and if I am to be satisfied, I demand the latter.”
His chuckle was dark and full of promises. “With me between your thighs, Valcotta, you are ensured satisfaction.”
This wild and wanton side of herself was unfamiliar, and yet… not. Like it had always been there but had never found cause to be unleashed. Now it was free, and it felt like this was who she’d been all along. “Prove it.”
Her eyes closed for what felt like only a heartbeat, but when she opened them, he was in front of her. His lips brushed her earlobe, causing a tremor to run through her as he said, “Gladly.”
The ever-present question of who are you? flickered through her mind, only to be vanquished as he lifted her. Her back slid up the wall until she could feel the heat of his breath against the apex of her thighs, the sensation tearing a gasp from her lips.
She was entirely exposed, supported only by the strength of his arms, her sex inches from his face. He was in control, and she should hate that, but instead it made her burn hotter. Made her spread her thighs wider so the folds of her sex parted and he could see all of her, her core pulsing with need.
“Some things I won’t be robbed of.” He kissed the inside of one of her knees, and then the other, making her shiver. “And being the one to make you come is foremost on that list.”
He lowered his face, and a moan tore from Zarrah’s lips as his mouth took the place of her fingers, sucking and teasing her sensitive flesh. Her thighs tensed, but he only pressed them wider, holding her up as though she weighed nothing at all. She gasped, wild aching lust making her body thrum and her skin burn like wildfire.
Then he pulled away to look up at her. “Are you sure you want to do this, Valcotta?”
“Yes,” she breathed, for there was nothing she wanted more. No one she wanted more. “I need…” You was the word she wanted to say, but she couldn’t give that much up to him. “I need it.”
He laughed softly, then lowered his mouth and slipped his tongue inside of her. Tasted her thoroughly before running his tongue up her sex to the knot of nerves that pulsed with need, closing his mouth over it. Zarrah sobbed as he sucked and stroked the part of her that seemed to hold every sensation in her body, her back arching against the wall as his fingers dug into her thighs.
The tension built and built until pleasure washed over her like the breaking of a dam. Zarrah screamed as her body shuddered, as he sucked her flesh hard, dragging waves of pleasure from her. She tangled her fingers in his hair to hold him there, her body bucking in his grip.
Only when her shudders eased did he lower her down, kissing her lips, her jaw, her throat, a soft groan exiting his lips as she wrapped her legs around his body.
“I want more,” she breathed into his ear, rocking her hips against him, inhaling his scent. “I want everything.”
Everything that she’d denied herself for so long. Everything that hadn’t been possible until she’d met him.
“Then everything you shall have.” He carried her over to the bed and laid her on her back, the sheets rough against her skin.
Zarrah’s heart skipped as he straightened, his eyes locked on hers as he pulled off first his coat and then a shirt of expensive linen, revealing a torso that might well have been carved from alabaster, every muscle taut and defined. His boots made soft thuds as he kicked them free, his belt clinking as he unfastened it, and anticipation caused her breath to quicken.
But though his desire was visibly apparent, there he paused, his eyes drifting over her nakedness. “A body to match the voice.”
Was that a good thing? She wasn’t sure. “How so?”
“Beautiful.” Her breath caught as he bent to kiss her navel, then looked up at her. “Something I would gladly lose myself in every night of my life, if such a thing were possible.”
Emotion flooded Zarrah’s chest, making it hard to breathe, because while she’d been many things to many people, no one had ever spoken this way to her. No one had ever expressed such feelings for her. Until this moment, she hadn’t felt the absence of the sentiment, but now she half wondered how she’d live without it. How she’d live without him.