He tugged her underclothes off her hips and then held her face in his hands, meeting her gaze with his own unwavering green-eyed beauty. “Selena…”
She closed her eyes and bit the slope of muscle between his shoulder and neck to keep from crying out. The perfect heaviness of him, over her and inside her; it was nearly too much. She clutched his back, her nails digging into his skin as he groaned into the tangled mess of her hair and began to move.
Her ecstasy came swift and hard, rocking her until she was delirious. He shuddered shortly after, kissing her silent when she whispered his name, and then lying still, breathing heavily, breathing in time with her.
And Selena swore that while she’d shared the powerful vitality of Julian’s body, she had been warm.
Change of Course
After the last swell of pleasure rolled through him, Sebastian lay for long moments over Selena, his face against her neck and his hands in her hair he’d waited so long to touch. It was still braided but they’d made a mess of it. He moved off of her, still trying to catch his breath, as a fresh agony swept in to steal the peace she had given him. Her kiss alone had been the most exquisite thing he had known in so many dark years, but it turned sour in his mouth as a question resounded again and again in his mind with a voice that sounded like Mina’s.
What have you done?
He held his head in his hands. Selena had risen from the floor, what little clothing left on her askew and rumpled. She went behind a small partition, to the privy. He heard the rustle of soft material and she emerged wearing a plain silken shift. The outline of her breasts through the thin dress was obvious even in the dim light cast by the lamp and despite his anguish, desire flared in him again. He quickly looked away.
“Julian?”
Julian. His false name. The ocean of lies between them seemed boundless. She knelt on the bed and held out her hand to him. Against every instinct, he rose and took it and let her draw him close.
“This is better, yes?” she said, indicating the sleeping dress.
“Yes,” he said. Better. He wanted to tear it off her and kiss her everywhere. Kiss her on that damnable wound even, and…
Make things worse? Betray her a second time?
Mina’s voice was just as he’d remembered it: sharp and smart and dry.
“Julian, what is it? What’s wrong?”
“You’ve had…a tough time of it.” A tough time? He wanted to kick himself. “I meant, with your healing and Accora…I shouldn’t have taken advantage.”
Selena frowned and sat back on her heels on the bed. “You did not,” she said stiffly. “I’ve endured loneliness for far too long, but I did nothing I didn’t want to do…”
“No, I know that. Gods, I meant…” He shook his head. “It was…”
“Perfect,” she said. “It was perfect, Julian.” She glanced down at her discarded Aluren tunic. “Though it remains to be seen if the god agrees. We are forbidden to have relations with those who are not Aluren.”
“You think the god will punish you again? After ten years?” Anger suffused him in a great sudden burst. “For what? For breaking some stupid rule? You’ve endured enough.”
Her smile returned and with it, his anger faded, as if she were some calming balm that smoothed out all the sharp edges of him. “We all have endured much. Since the war.” Her gaze went to the tattoo on his shoulder. “Will you tell me about her?”
“No,” Sebastian said automatically. “I can’t.”
“Talking about pain can help to lessen it.”
“Not this time.”
Selena touched her fingertips to her lips, and then to Mina’s name. “I hope she is at rest now.”
She’s not, he wanted to tell her. None of them are.
“And I want to help you,” she said, and her smile turned sad. “To close your own wounds. How can I help you? What is it you want more than anything?”
He reached up and untied the knots that held her braids in place and her hair fell over her shoulders in gold ribbons. He took them in his hands, brought them to his face to inhale deeply. Salt and wind and her own sweet scent beneath.
“Peace,” he said. “I want peace. I want you. You remind me of a place…”
She was so close that the slightest movement toward her brought her lips to his, silencing his words with her perfect mouth that had never uttered an ugly, snide, or hateful word.
The kiss deepened, became sweeter, then harder. He lay her down on the bed and she raised her sleeping gown high enough to reveal everything but her wound. Her body beneath him stole his breath. He’d never lain with a woman who had muscles as she did: lean but strong. Or calloused hands that wielded a sword; that weaved light. That healed. He imaged that’s what she did as she touched him, healed him in great crescendos of pleasure that left him drained and heavy and content in a way that he hadn’t known since before the war.
I’ll fall on my own sword before I let her fear me. There’s no betrayal. Sebastian Vaas is dead. He died the moment I lay my blade at Selena’s feet. No, when I first beheld her.
He drifted to sleep with Selena clutched tight in his arms. This can’t be wrong. It can’t be, and yet he dreamt of Mina and she wept.
Sebastian woke to Selena’s body jerking awake.
“Did you hear that?” she asked.
“Hear what?”
“Downstairs. It sounded like breaking glass.”
Sebastian listened for half a second. “The crew. Drunk again.”
“No, it’s…”
A muffled scream came from below and the sound of more glass shattering. Men’s voices, loud and bellowing, followed.
They locked eyes a moment longer and then flew apart to dress. He retrieved his weapons from the balcony and then donned his long black coat.
“Bloody bad timing,” he muttered.
She nodded. He saw the passion they had kindled this night was still smoldering in her eyes.
“It was a lovely night,” she said and then belted on her sword.