His eyes—far too intelligent for those of a stable boy—slowly scanned my body, pausing once they settled on my arms hidden beneath the robe.
"You’re bleeding," he said matter-of-factly. "It’s leaking through your robe. Gemma..." He paused, his jaw ticking as he tried to remain calm. "Let me see your arms."
I shook my head, retreating into myself. He couldn’t see me like this. He’d go crazy, try to attack the king and get himself killed. Or he’d force me to leave, and we’d get caught, and then we’d both get tortured 100 times worse.
"It’s not bad," I lied, hugging my arms to keep them as far out of sight as I could.
"Gemma..." His voice was softer as he approached me again. He took my hands and traced delicate circles on my skin with his calloused thumbs. "Let me see your arms."
"I can’t." My voice broke, and the words came out as a whisper.
His face was hard, but his eyes remained soft. "It’s bad, isn’t it?"
I closed my eyes and nodded.
By the time I opened them back up, Tristan was over near the fire, lifting my bloodied rag from the bowl of healing herbs with a detached look in his eye. I moved closer, unsure of what to think or do, unsure of what he was thinking or about to do.
Eventually, he sat down and patted the ground beside him.
I lowered myself onto the cold stone ground and tucked my legs up into my chest. There was nowhere safe to rest my arms, so I had no choice but to deal with the throbbing pain, wrapping them around my knees.
He slipped the green robe down my shoulders, but I caught it at my elbow, refusing to let it go any further. "Please don’t."
His hand found my chin and gently coaxed me to look at him. "Let me take care of you."
And that was the moment I fell completely in love with him.
Something inside me snapped, and the fear I’d been tethered to simply floated away on a breeze of hope and happiness. I removed the robe the rest of the way and allowed him to peel back the gauze. He never said a word, though if his slightly murderous expression was anything to go by, then I was probably right in assuming he wanted to attack the king. It didn’t matter anymore though, because I trusted him.
He took his time, silently cleaning my cuts, and studying the haphazard slashes that laced across my skin.
By the time he was done, the fire had burned down to glowing embers, so he got up and restoked it until it radiated warmth once more. He went to my bed and retrieved my blankets, laying them carefully out on the floor where we sat. Then he laid down on his side and carefully tucked me into his arms.
I had no idea how long we laid there before I drifted off, but I distinctly remembered the words that fell out of my mouth as I did.
"I’ll go with you, Tristan. I’ll follow you anywhere."
Then sleep graciously claimed me.
Chapter 9
ALEXIS
"Do you trust me?"
Ben’s words were soft but dangerous, spoken against the backdrop of a crackling fire.
It was dark, and people were laughing and dancing outside in the streets, smoking and drinking, completely oblivious to the fact that we were here.
I glanced around the tiny room, but it was empty aside from us, hosting only a kitchenette and a small smattering of pillows strewn out across the floor. Bare rafters lined the ceiling, and the sandstone slab beneath our feet was way more "sand" than "stone."
Apparently, Ben had rented the little shack for a few hours in order for us to... talk. I didn’t know why, but I had a bad feeling that meant I was in trouble.
The other Storm Princes had agreed to go out and relax with a few drinks and a couple smokes, which gave Ben and me the alone time he required. Normally, I would have been a little worried about a set up like that, but since a literal fucking lightning bolt would prevent any girls from moving in on my men, I was relatively at ease with the situation.
Then again, girls were sneaky and seductive. Like Camilla—beautiful, confident, exotic.... Maybe I shouldn’t have let them go out without me? The whole town might be fried to a crisp by morning. And that would only feed my stupid jealousaurus. I mean, come on. Of all the freaking men on the planet, why did I have to fall for the most sought-after men around?
Ben moved closer, tickling my skin as he gently traced a finger along my jawline. "Do. You. Trust. Me?"
"Yes." My voice was soft and breathless all of a sudden. It was like my body knew what was coming before my brain had a chance to catch up.
"Then stand up and turn around."
Slowly, nervously, I did as he said. My muscles shook with anticipation and a little bit of fear. I had no idea what this was about or what he had in mind, but I knew I was about to be dominated.
His hands found my calves and glided up my legs, bunching up the gossamer material of my mocha-colored gown. They slid over the crest of my ass and up my back, pausing at my shoulders for only a moment.
"Raise your arms."
I did, and by the time his fingers passed my elbows and wrists, my dress was nothing more than a puddle of fancy material on the floor.
He hooked his thumbs into my panties and slid them down, leaving me totally bare, and yet mostly unexposed considering my back was to him.
"Are you okay?" he asked, understanding this might’ve reminded me of my "wedding night." It was similar, in a way—there was still force involved and an obvious lack of control—but it was intimate and different enough that I felt safe and secure rather than vulnerable and sullied.
I nodded, and his lips found the small of my back, kissing me tenderly as he slid a silken rope around my waist. He pulled it tight, crisscrossing it around my back, then twisted it beneath my breasts, kissing my back again.
"What are you doing?" I asked nervously as he strung me up like a corset.
He grabbed my ass and squeezed, lifting me slightly off the ground and forcing me to push into the wall for support. "Don’t talk. Not unless I ask you a question."
I nodded sharply, and he continued twining the silky rope around my body, circling my breasts and cleverly wrapping around my thighs so they remained spread apart.
"You were jealous today," he said, kissing the side of my neck.
"Of course I was. Have you seen her? She’s gorgeous, and she tried to kiss you."
His hand cracked my ass hard enough to make me yelp.
"That wasn’t a question, Sailor," he reminded me, caressing the stinging flesh of my rear. "It was a fact. You were jealous. And as hot as it was, I don’t like the fact that you didn’t trust me."
I wanted to protest, but he hadn’t asked me a question, so I kept my mouth shut.
"Lace your fingers and lift your hands over your head."
As soon as I did, he threw the rope around a beam in the ceiling and began threading down my arms, trapping me in a standing position. My heart raced. Being helpless in a bad situation was the worst feeling in the world, but being helpless in the hands of a man I loved was exhilarating.
When he was satisfied with his work and my body was a web of knots from my wrists to my ankles, he spun me around and looked deep into my eyes. "I don’t want anyone but you, Alexis."
The use of my full name and not a nickname told me just how serious his words were.
"You’re gorgeous and sexy as fuck." His hands caressed the delicate skin of my neck, trailing lower to brush my collarbone.
His touch was inebriating, making me dizzy with anticipation.
"You’re fierce and sassy." His hands moved further down, circling the edge of my breasts around the rope.
Gods, his touch was amazing. I could barely think straight.
"You’re resilient and caring." His thumbs grazed my hardened nipples, making me moan. "And you have my heart completely."
It was the closest he’d ever come to saying I love you, and the happiness it brought me burned through my blood like a fever.
His lips brushed my stomach and trailed featherlight kisses down to my navel; t
hen he continued lower, pausing just before my pubic bone.
I was already panting like a dog in heat, hanging limply from my arms because my legs were too weak to fully support me.
"I want to kiss no one but you." He kissed my inner thigh, sending tiny jolts of heat rushing to my spread-open pussy. "I want to touch no one but you." His hand roamed up the back of my leg, and he squeezed my ass like he owned it. "I want to... lick no one but you."
I quivered in anticipation, but to my dismay, his actions didn’t mirror his words as they had before.
"Do you understand me, Sailor?"
"Yes," I breathed out in barely a whisper.
"I mean it. I don’t care who I look at or who I talk to or what I say. This passion burning in my veins? It’s only for you."
His words were music to my ears, everything I wanted to hear and more.
"And I’m going to prove it." His eyes met mine, and a devious grin overtook his darkened features. "Usually, I like to be in control. I like you to fuck me exactly how I tell you to. I like to sit back and enjoy the show. But tonight, I’m giving everything to you."
He ran his fingers through the folds of my lower lips, spreading my wetness everywhere, especially my clit.
Dear fucking gods, I was a hot mess. I didn’t know if it had something to do with the ropes he’d tied around me, the sexiness of his words, or the delicacy and precision of his fingers, but I was already seconds away from coming. I could feel the telltale tingles flooding through me, numbing my brain in preparation for wrecking my body.
Then his mouth was on me, hot and demanding, his tongue swirling around my clit like a cyclone. Seconds later, I was gone, crying out as every cell in my body exploded with ecstasy.
"Oh, Sailor," he groaned, biting my inner thighs. "So willing and eager to give it up to me. So perfectly pliable."
He pushed his fingers inside and rubbed a spot I’d only read about in romance novels. Over and over he circled, keeping the perfect pace and pressure. Then he stood and sucked on my nipples, making sultry eye contact with me until my mind went blissfully numb again.
"Fucking hades," I moaned, thrashing against my bindings as I came apart once more in his expert hands.
"Do you believe me yet?" he asked, tweaking my nipples lightly as I gasped for air.
"Believe... what?" I couldn’t think straight; I could barely even see straight anymore.
"Do you believe that you’re the only one I want?" he asked, reiterating his question from a moment ago. "If you’re still unsure, I could always fuck you into believing me..."
I smiled and bit my bottom lip as my eyes fell closed. "Oh, I’m still very unsure, Sand Prince. You’re going to have to fuck the hell out of me before I believe you."
I peeked at him, watching as his pupils dilated.
"Is that right?"
"It is."
He liked that defiant streak in me. I was pretty sure it turned him on to imagine draining the disobedience out of me, moment by torturous moment.
He backed away, leaving me half hanging half standing but completely aroused. He reached behind his back and yanked off his shirt, exposing the dark shadows of his tanned abs. Then he unbuttoned his pants and kicked them to the side, saving his boxers for last as his cock sprang free.
He stroked himself as he slowly approached me. "Is this what you want, sweetheart?"
He’d never called me by an endearment like that, but given the context, I very much enjoyed it. I adjusted my arms above my head and nodded.
"Are the ropes getting uncomfortable?"
"Only a bit."
Suddenly, there was a dagger in his hand, and as he cut the rope above my head, I dropped into his arms. The bindings around me loosened, and we both worked to untangle my body as quickly as possible. Then it was just us. No barriers. No clothes, no ropes, no jealousy, no fear. Just love and a heavy dose of lust.
He laid me down on the pillows and hovered above me, the muscles in his arms and abs strung out tight. Our eyes locked, and as we stared, he pushed deep inside of me.
It was... intense. Sensations were everywhere. Around me. Inside me. Mental, physical, emotional... I could hardly tell what I was feeling from one second to the next; they were flying so fast.
"You believe me yet?" he asked, as he thrust in and out of me, slowly, maddeningly.
"I’m starting to."
He smirked and kept up the leisurely pace. "Good."
After those first two wicked orgasms, my body was already primed for pleasure. It didn’t take long for the decadence to build inside of me, to soak me up and wring me out.
When my moaning and the pulsing of orgasm number three subsided, Ben gritted his teeth and stared at me intensely. "Do you believe me now?"
It was getting harder for him to hold his orgasm back. I could sense it.
"Yes, I do."
"I’m serious, Alexis. I don’t want anyone but you. I..." He swallowed hard, and his gaze softened. "I love you."
An uncontrollable smile lit up my face as I pulled his lips down to mine. "I love you too, Ben."
I rolled my hips up into his, pushing him those last couple steps over the edge.
He groaned and thrust harder, railing me like a hammer, but the pain felt good after so much pleasure. Eventually, he reached his own orgasm, and as his movements slowed, I was able to breathe again.
I kissed him gently and added, "I really do believe you. I won’t doubt you again."
He lowered his forehead to mine, panting through a pearly smile. "Glad we cleared that up."
"Mmm. Me too."
Now we just had to "clear up" the misunderstanding between the fae and the harpies, starting by following the "desert flower" into the sandy wilderness first thing in the morning.
Lovely.
Chapter 10
"What do you mean we have to take a pit stop at Dryroot Canyons?" Camilla asked Ash through gritted teeth.
"I mean exactly what I said," Ash bit back with an even more menacing expression.
They were standing on opposite sides of a map, tracing potential routes with their fingers, while Rob looked on with a devious grin.
We were right at the edge of Erishwar, where the city abruptly met the desert, not-so-anxiously awaiting the start of yet another long hike through the Obsidian. While they argued and Rob looked on with laughing eyes, the rest of us leaned against one of the sandstone buildings and tried to soak up a bit of shade. Six camels grazed on a bit of dry grass nearby, already loaded up with our stuff, just waiting for us to climb aboard.
"Gods, it’s hot," I muttered, feeling like I’d lost some hydration just by opening my mouth.
Everyone grumbled their agreement except Ben.
"The rainy season is coming soon," he said, glancing at the crystal-clear sky.
"Deserts have a rainy season?" I asked, suddenly interested in the weather.
"Not usually," Dan muttered.
"Some do, briefly, but they have a long one here," Ben finished. "The Obsidian Desert is sort of an anomaly. No one can figure out where the rain comes from, though many scholars have tried."
"Not even you?" I teased.
"Not even me," he replied with a cheeky grin.
"He’s right, though," Dan continued. His eyes were closed, with his head tipped back as he leaned against the building. "Rain is coming. I can feel it."
"Well, thank the gods for that," I grumbled.
I remembered a time when I would playfully scold Gemma for such blatantly blasphemous comments. I’d told her the gods would make her pay for it one day. But now that I was part god, I didn’t feel the reverence I once had anymore. And with all the shit I’d been through, and never once had they appeared to help me out, well... fuck ’em. It wasn’t like they were ever coming back anyway.
"Is anyone else worried about Ash jumping off a canyon?" I asked as we watched their heated argument from afar.
Cal and Ben nodded, while Dan said, "Yes and no. I don’t really want him to
do anything stupid now that he’s back, but at the same time, I honestly don’t think we could die if we tried. So, is it really that big of a deal?"
"You don’t know that for sure," I argued. "Besides, I’m afraid Rob’s hoping it really will kill him."
Cal shook his head. "Rob is a hard-ass sometimes, but he loves Ash. He doesn’t want him to die for real. He just wants him to pay a little bit for all the shit he put us through."
"Can’t say I blame him," Dan added with a smirk. "I love Ash too, but I have to admit, it’s probably going to be extremely satisfying to watch his atonement."
I shook my head and snorted with laughter. "You guys are crazy. I don’t want to watch anyone leap to their death—whether the death is real or not—and especially not any of you. It’s just so... sadistic."
"Oh, it’ll be fun," Dan playfully argued. "We could probably all jump, if we wanted."
I seriously doubted that. They might be feeling confident about their immortal status, but I was feeling even less so than normal.
"All right," Camilla said, rolling up the map as their trio broke up and approached us. "We’re pit stopping in the Dryroot Canyons, but due to that enormous out-of-the-way endeavor, we’re now also going to have to stop at Maltor to resupply."
"Sounds good," I said with a nod.
Her brows rose and furrowed. "Uh, sounds terrible, in fact. Maltor is the absolute worst town in Eristan. We’ll be lucky if we escape that place with the clothes on our backs, let alone a sack full of supplies."
"I assured her we’d be fine," Rob said, rolling his eyes.
I was not so sure. "Why are we stopping there if it’s so awful? Why not the next town over or something?"
"Because there is no next town over." Camilla glared at Ash and Rob. "This is literally the only place we can stop between here and the Lunaley—unless we forgo this ridiculous trip to the Canyons."
"No," Ash and Rob both protested at once.
As awful as the situation was, it made me smile. They were both so stubborn.
Camilla sighed and shrugged dramatically. "Then we’re stuck with Maltor."
Stormy Nights (Storms of Blackwood Book 2) Page 9