Niya was in his lap, his lips upon hers, before her senses had registered what was happening.
Niya would like to believe she resisted then, that she twisted his arm back to free herself. She easily could.
But she didn’t.
While Niya’s convictions were screaming to push away, to stop this madness, her body, the betraying bastard, leaned in. Despite all her hateful words, her mistrust, she wanted Alōs; her magic desired his. Two opposites destined to collide.
It was utter insanity!
But as his mouth worked against hers, she found herself opening to him, parting hers in kind.
With a frustrated groan, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled herself closer.
It was like settling into the calm eye of a storm, a moment of exhausted relief.
Alōs tasted like midnight and sea, his skin cool to her warm, and it sent treacherous shivers up her spine.
She might not trust him, but she could no longer deny how he made her feel.
Alive. Soaring. Unstoppable.
And now here she was, kissing the man again, letting him kiss her—and not because it was an act, a way to escape the suspicion of guards, but because she wanted it.
She bloody wanted it, so have it she would.
If only for a night.
With that resolve settling inside her tumbling sensations, Niya did what she usually did in these moments. She fell into the chaos.
Pressing her breasts against Alōs’s hard chest, she continued to claim his mouth as he claimed hers. They were two crashing waves, finally able to drown their victims, to send them spinning in their surge.
Their hands were everywhere, in each other’s hair, down arms, over shoulders. Alōs kneaded along her exposed thigh, deliciously close to where her robe was split.
She wanted more. She wanted everything.
Twisting in Alōs’s lap, Niya straddled him, running her fingers up his strong arms, through his hair.
A carnal growl came from the pirate’s throat as she ground against him. The most sensitive part of her finding the hardest part of him beneath his trousers.
His grip tightened, hands cupping her backside, following the rhythm in her movements.
Niya’s thoughts were no longer. She was only sensations, reactions, desires.
But this time she was not fooled regarding the expectations of after. She would have Alōs, but this time he would not be taking any piece of her.
Not again.
She would give her body but not her heart.
Alōs’s fingers parted the material of her robe to bare her chest.
“By the stars and sea.” His voice was a rumble of reverence. “How I’ve dreamed of touching these again.”
He ran a gentle finger under the curve of her aching breasts where they sat heavy and wanting. He captured her gaze while he took one of her nipples into his mouth, a light nip of his teeth.
She let out a groaning sigh.
Her body was the center of the sun, and Alōs flew uncaring toward the burning flames.
He kept his attention on her as he sucked, played, cherished, his energy held tight, controlled.
Niya was angling to shatter that control.
She leaned into him, drunk under his skilled attention.
A strong arm circled the small of her back, the other running up her neck to hold her cheek as he kissed her again. It was a gentle but possessive gesture, a king careful with his treasure.
“You are a lost goddess,” he said between their kisses. “You have me, fire dancer.”
He tipped her head back so he could look her in the eyes again.
She didn’t want that. She didn’t want to see him.
But he forced her to.
He forced her to see what she had done to him, what she was doing to him. Alōs was a monster on his knees; he was a coil of desire, of desperation, waiting for her command. “Do you understand, Niya?” he continued. “You can take whatever you want of me.”
You can take whatever you want.
The words pierced her heart, a well-aimed arrow.
He was giving himself over. Giving her his powers tonight.
This was different from then, from that night four years ago. Everything about how he looked at her now, touched her, didn’t touch her, said all the difference.
“Niya,” he rumbled, his voice the deepest part of the sea. “I am yours to command.”
Niya realized then just how dangerous it was to finally get what you wanted, because often you ended up wanting more.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
Alōs was drowning in madness. For everything he was saying to Niya he meant.
He had been his own master for so long, fighting against any who would dare disrupt his power, his independence, his safety behind walls, that he had forgotten what it was like to truly feel another. Touch another. He was tired of being a frozen island.
Despite Niya’s good or bad intentions, she was the only one who had ever properly threatened to melt his cold veneer. The only one who had strong enough heat to thaw the layers of ice in his veins.
But what truly drove Alōs to accept the crumbling barriers between them was finally accepting that their partnership was more powerful when stitched together.
They were unstoppable together.
Perfect together.
Just like they had been on his boat, fighting back the storm side by side.
And the Valley of Giants, working in tandem.
Just as she felt perfect in his arms now.
Niya had consumed him from the moment he’d seen her those four years ago. He’d known then that she was more than his equal: she was his superior. Which was exactly what had made her his threat. His enemy. Alōs had already lost too much after Esrom. At that time he could not allow any other distractions or weaknesses into his life. Niya, he had instantly known, could destroy him.
So he had angled to destroy her first.
But now . . .
Now he wanted her forgiveness and trust more than he knew. It burned across his skin like the deepest craving.
He wanted her to always look at him as she was now, with desire and strength. He wanted her to laugh with him, as carefree as she was with her sisters, with his crew.
He wanted . . . her.
Tugging her closer, tasting the honeysuckle that clung to her skin from her bath, he finally pushed himself headfirst into her flames.
He didn’t deserve any part of Niya, but he would take whatever she was willing to give.
As he ran hands over her softness, he recalled her at the Fountains of Forgotten Memories, her gentle touch to his shoulder when he had fought for clarity after being in the old queen’s memory. Niya’s perseverance in the Valley of Giants to locate the last stone when he had been defeated. Her fight to save his ship in the storms.
After all he’d put her through, Niya had every right to carry her disdain for him to the Fade. Yet there she had been, helping. Binding bet or no, Alōs knew she would have acted similarly anyway. Because that was who she was. She might be a thief and a mercenary, but at the core, Niya was good.
Whereas he was rotten.
And Alōs was determined to make things right between them.
So he did it the only way he knew how.
He worshipped her.
Angling her chin, Alōs pressed kisses along Niya’s neck. He raked teeth over her shoulder, eliciting a tantalizing moan from her lips.
But it wasn’t enough.
Alōs wanted her panting, soaring, as untethered as she made others feel when she danced. He wanted to give her the crazed euphoria that she gave to her audience—that she gave to him.
Her continuous rocking against his cock sent more madness through him, his control breaking. Gathering Niya up in his arms, he brought them to her bed.
She lay sprawled over the soft sheets as he stood above her, her robe open, displaying her pale skin, the fullness of her breasts. His gaze dipped to the patch of red hair between her leg
s, his entire being alight with all the things he wished to do to her.
Niya’s eyes were glassy as they looked up at him, yearning, wanting.
Yet this time, he felt not like the hunter but like her willing prey.
He would not touch her again, not without her command.
A spark appeared in Niya’s gaze, as if she understood this, for she finally demanded, “Touch me.”
“Where?” His voice came out a husky whisper.
Alōs watched as her bold, magnificent hands ran down to her most sacred of places, through her curls of red. “Here.”
Alōs was on his knees instantly.
He glided his fingers up her inner thighs, savoring the softness before spreading her open. He paused for one aching moment, his eyes meeting hers over the hills of her breasts.
“Yes,” breathed Niya. “There.”
His mouth was upon her.
“Alōs,” she groaned, raking hands through his hair. She kept him right where she wanted him, needed him.
He was drunk on the taste of her, on the warmth flooding through his veins, as her magic filled the room, fogging the mirrors. And though Alōs could, he did not fight her energy with his own. He settled into it, letting it melt away his walls.
Niya thrashed under his ministrations, rocking against him.
He kept steady, focused, as he slipped a finger in.
With a cry, Niya arched up, her body shivering, before she settled back into the sheets, satiated.
Alōs knelt back, unable to do anything but stare.
Niya was glowing, resplendent in her relaxed state. And he had done this to her. No longer was she coiled and fortified behind her hate for him but spread out, open.
Slowly her head rolled to the side; her blue eyes found his.
They were filled with something he could not read.
“Come here,” she said, extending a hand.
Alōs quickly unbuckled his sword’s sheath and kicked off his boots before lying beside her. Niya started on his buttons. Alōs kept perfectly still as she slid the material away; her palm smoothed over his chest, down his abs, before slipping beneath his trousers.
He closed his eyes with a groan as she gripped him, running her hand up and down his length. Still he did not move.
“Such restraint,” Niya teased.
He looked at her, only truth in his next words. “I am yours to command.”
A flash of something dark fell across her features, but then it was gone. “Do you want me?” she asked.
The question startled him, given she held the proof of how much he wanted her. But then he realized this question was a test. It made him feel uneasy at just how desperately he wanted to pass. “I want whatever you are willing to share.”
She studied him a long moment as she continued to caress him. He felt his restraint fissure. His body was boiling for her, to take, consume, have. But this was exactly what she was waiting for, expecting, and what he had to prove he would not do. He would no longer take anything from her, especially not this.
“I want you to show me how much you want me,” said Niya.
It was all Alōs needed to hear.
He bent to claim her mouth and then licked along her neck, pleased with the goose bumps that rose on her skin, the sigh that escaped her lips.
She began to tug at his trousers, almost impatient, and he chuckled, helping.
As he freed himself, lying naked before her, a satisfied purr came from her lips, her eyes hungry as they perused his body.
Her magic reached for him, red tendrils of smoke caressing his skin. Mine, it seemed to whisper, and Alōs couldn’t help grinning, thinking the same as he beheld Niya.
Mine.
Settling on top of her, Alōs was drunk on the way her skin felt against his. She was a warm blanket of silk, of temptation, and she was giving herself to him. Trusting him. If only for tonight.
The thought made him want to savor every grain fall. Capture every moment, sound, and graze in his memory.
He cupped her breasts, taking one of her nipples into his mouth, sucking as they began to grind against each other.
Niya was wet and needing, and he felt crazed with the knowledge.
“Yes,” she whispered. “Yes.”
Alōs held her gaze and slipped himself inside her. They both moaned, foreheads touching.
He held steady for a moment, savoring her heat and the way she fit around him.
“Alōs.” Niya squirmed, restless.
“Easy, my fire.” He captured one of her wrists, pinning it to the mattress. “You told me to show you how much I want you, and I shall, but I intend to be thorough in my demonstration.”
He kissed her full lips, swallowing her cry as he began to slowly move his hips, going as deep as he dared.
“Yes.” Niya turned her head to gasp. “Yes.”
Alōs created a rhythm that Niya quickly matched, their bodies dancing, a gathering of tension.
Before either of them lost themselves too soon, Alōs rose, sitting back on his heels. He tugged Niya by the waist to settle her exactly where she needed to be around his hips. He wanted to see her fully, watch as he slipped back into her.
Her blue eyes were the stars during the darkest night at sea. Bright, guiding, home.
“By the lost gods,” he moaned as he filled her, over and over, his body shivering around her warmth.
Niya cried out with her own desire, her head rolling to the side.
Her hair was a fan of red on the sheets, her cheeks a rosy glow.
Alōs pulled her hands toward him, which angled her breasts high. They were full and perfect as they moved with every one of his thrusts.
He was lost in her.
Ruined by her.
Though they had slept together before, this was nothing like then. Not to him. Then, Alōs had been thoroughly untouchable, young and filled with anger at the world’s injustice. He had been concentrated only on his task, what he needed from Niya—her identity—and what he would gain: unmeasurable leverage. He had not allowed himself to properly be in the moment. Though he had made sure to please her, to Alōs it had been a night of scheming with an added bonus.
But now . . . now, each of Niya’s moans shattered the ice casing around his heart.
He wanted to decimate that young man of the past.
As Niya preened under his touches, the red haze of her magic radiating from her skin like a flower in bloom, her supple curves there to study, to devour, he realized that nothing about her should ever have been taken for granted.
Niya pulled herself up, straddling him so Alōs lay on his back.
He became entranced as she rode him.
Her breasts jutted forward; her ruby locks cascaded down her back; her hips flared deliciously wide as she moved.
She was magnificent.
She was commanding.
She was a queen.
His queen.
The thought momentarily stunned him.
But Alōs drowned whatever fears were creeping into his mind by tugging Niya down for a kiss. He lost himself in her thoroughly. Spun dizzy with his desire.
They were sin this night, carnality finally giving in.
Alōs was changing by the grain fall, had changed, and it was all thanks to the woman in his arms. He wanted to be better, wanted to be what she needed. He wanted one of the most powerful creatures in Aadilor to need him, and not because she was bound by a bargain but because her desire wouldn’t have it any other way.
With this new goal burning, Alōs sought to bring Niya to new heights, to awaken every thread of her pleasure. He wanted to tie her euphoria so tightly to himself that no other being would satiate her.
As the night slipped forward, he had her falling into wave after wave of release.
It wasn’t until she begged him to find his own bliss that Alōs finally pulled himself free and spent himself on the sheets before collapsing, his body racked with shivers of satisfaction.
They breat
hed heavily beside one another, their skin dewing with sweat.
The room buzzed in the following silence, tinged orange from their intertwined magic.
Alōs turned toward Niya where she lay on her stomach. Her eyes were clear, unguarded as she looked at him. It sent a strange ache through his chest.
But then his gaze landed on the marks along her back, fading but nonetheless there, and a new pain slashed sharp, guilt gripping him.
“I’m sorry for these,” he said, lifting a hand to gently trace the remaining lines.
Niya tensed, but after a few more of his caresses, she eased back into the mattress. “They are not your fault. It is not you who spelled the crew and clearly disobeyed orders.”
“No.” He frowned. “But I still am sorry.”
“Why?” She lifted her head, placing it in her palm as she leaned on the bed. “This is our world, Alōs. People seek vengeance when they are wronged. It’s understandable that your pirates wanted my blood for making them look weak. And you needed to punish me in front of them to hold your power on the ship. I have no delusions regarding what was done to me. You forget who my king is. I have seen and done far worse.” She played with the sheets under her. “And so have you.”
Though he knew her words to be true, they did not help him feel any better.
They each had been scarred by their roles here, numbed to the wickedness that roamed Aadilor. Had each become such creatures themselves when necessary.
“But let us not think on all that now,” she went on. “I don’t know about you, but I’m quite content to float in this cloud a bit longer.”
When she smiled, a real smile, he smiled back.
It felt odd, this moment, as they lay naked beside each other; they weren’t touching, and yet this felt more intimate than their recent act. Talking to one another, openly, honestly.
How quickly would it all fade once they left this room? When Niya remembered she still did not trust him? Returned to her resolve that he was the same man who had betrayed her and broken her heart?
Alōs forced his darkening thoughts away as he gathered Niya into his arms, tugging the sheets over them. As she settled against his chest, he held her protectively, as if that could slow the sands of time. Just for tonight. Just for them.
He had not intended on falling asleep, but Niya was so warm, so comfortable in his embrace. A comfort he had not felt in a very long while. Alōs let his eyes close, chasing away the fatigue of tomorrow. Yet even in sleep, he knew the false promises brought by peaceful dreams. For when Alōs awoke, he was not surprised to find he now lay alone.
Dance of a Burning Sea Page 34