I have some serious fucking problems.
“Maybe I’ll unwrap you first. Finally see what you’re hiding behind these silly strips of fabric.” He placed his hand to her side, his touch hot and wet. His palm was still bleeding. He ran it up her skin, growling low again. His voice was husky and dark, his rage now blending perfectly with something just as consuming. Just as demanding. Need.
And through all her fear, all the danger, her body cried out in reply. She let out a wavering gasp and couldn’t help but squirm beneath him.
“Do you want this? Do you?” He chuckled darkly and drifted his hand up to the bandages that covered her. “You’re either lying to me, using me, manipulating me…or you are a delightful little degenerate. I don’t think I’m nearly so lucky.” He hummed thoughtfully as he traced a line along her skin at the edge of the bandages with his sharp nails.
“Rxa,” she said in an exhale. “Please, slow down…let me talk.”
“Why should I let you lie some more? Why? Look at me—look at this!” He pointed at his face, his voice rising to a ragged shout. “How can you want this? I’m—”
She sighed.
And then kneed him in the groin as hard as she could.
All the air exploded from his lungs in one “unf!” She pushed his shoulders, planted her foot in the middle of his solar plexus, and kicked him off her.
He tumbled backward, losing his balance on the stairs, and toppled over with a loud thud, cracking his head on the floor. He groaned and rolled onto his side, grabbing the back of his head, and let out a long, plaintive whine. “Why? Why always with the hurting?”
Ember pushed up to sitting and looked down at her torn-up shirt. She shrugged out of the tattered remains and, standing, walked to his side. “Are we done now?”
“Yeah…”
He sounded so defeated. She knelt on the ground and, tearing the shirt into strips, picked up one of his hands and began winding the fabric around his wounds.
His voice was quiet and tired. “They’ll heal.”
“I know.”
He watched her, an unreadable expression on his face, as she wrapped the cuts on his hands. “Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why do you care?” He shut his eyes.
“Because you’re in pain. And I…” She paused and shook her head. She didn’t know how to answer that question. He’d asked it before, and she honestly hadn’t known what to say. She still had no clue. She did care about him. And every day that passed, it became more and more clear that she was painfully attracted to him. It made for a dangerous mix. “I like you, Rxa. I do. I shouldn’t. I should hate you. But instead, I think I hate seeing you like this.” She reached out and stroked his hair gently.
“I think I want to crawl into a hot bath, and then a bottle.” He grunted. “Maybe at the same time.”
It’s messed up that I want to join him. “Come on. You go do that, and I’ll clean up the mess. And…for what it’s worth, Rxa, I’m not lying.”
He snorted.
She ran the backs of her fingers gently down his cheek, tracing the line of one of the scars. It clipped his lips just a little, leaving a small dimple in them. But it didn’t bother her.
It made her want to kiss him even more.
“You might not look the same. You might not look how you wish you looked. I understand you…feel like you’ve been wronged, but—”
“I have been wronged.”
She let that slide. “But you’re beautiful, Rxa.”
That got his attention. He rolled onto his back and looked up at her, his expression a mix of confusion, disbelief, skepticism, and…warmth. He watched her silently, and she wasn’t sure if she was supposed to continue.
She shrugged and smiled shyly, feeling her cheeks grow just a little bit hot. “The creature you used to be was like the stars in the sky. Stunning, but untouchable.”
“Nuh-uh. I did a lot of touching.” He cracked a smirk that faded as fast as it arrived.
She chuckled at his comment. “You know what I mean.”
His eyes slid shut again. “Do you really think I’m beautiful?”
“I do. I shouldn’t. But I do.” She kept gently stroking his hair. He was bloody. Some from his so-called snacking on their dinner, but also because of the cuts on his hands. “And before you say it, no, it’s not because I have low standards.” She laughed.
“I am not as beautiful as I once was.”
“Shit happens. I’ve seen people lose limbs. Besides, I think the scars add something more grounded to you. I don’t know. It’s hard to explain.”
He smirked briefly again, before his tone grew soft. “I understand. I was…aloof. When I was with someone, it was physical, but never genuine. I had friendships that shared my bed, certainly. But I was never fully there.” He reached for her hand, and she took it. He pulled her to his lips and kissed her fingers. “Not like this.”
“I don’t know what ‘this’ is.”
“You’ve said.”
“I just wish…”
“That I wasn’t destroying the world?”
She huffed a single laugh and looked up at the ceiling. “Yeah. That.”
“Trust me, you’ll understand someday why it needs to die. Why it all has to end.” He sat up with a huff, opening his eyes. He kept her hand in his and kissed her fingers again. “Thank you, Ember. You’re the one positive in this dumpster-fire-fuckery that is my life.”
“Dumpster fire?”
“Never mind.” Releasing her hand, he chuckled and stood, brushing himself off. He looked down at the painting and shrugged. “I never did like that thing much, anyway.” He cracked his neck then pulled on his pant leg. “And by the way? Ow. You can knee a man in the groin like a champ. Remind me not to piss you off again.”
She got to her feet as well. “I wasn’t pissed.”
“Remind me not to piss you off at all, then.” He grinned then frowned, looking down at her exposed chest. “I’m sorry for all that. I got…away from myself.”
“It’s all right. You didn’t do anything worth apologizing for. I’m going to go get a new shirt, however.”
“Aw. I like you walking around topless.” He reached out and plucked at the edge of one of her bandages. “Even more if you were completely topless.”
She swatted at his hand. “Knock it off.”
“Do you know how curious I am?” He kept staring at her chest. It made her cheeks grow warm again. “I’m dying to know what you’ve got under there. How big? What’s their shape?” He reached out his hands in front of him mimed squeezing her breasts.
“Stop it!” She smacked his hands out of the air and danced backward, laughing.
“You have them locked down tighter than Fort Knox!” He cackled and followed her. “They gotta be great if you guard them so hard!” He dove at her, letting out a fake roar. “Mine! Gimmie!”
She squealed and ducked out of the way. She took off running, laughing the entire time. Rxa was on her heels, cackling and snarling. “Leave me alone, you lunatic!”
“Gonna getcha! Gonna find out what you’re hiding!”
“No!” she shouted, laughing.
But there wasn’t anywhere for her to escape to. He chased her around the kitchen island a few times, and around a sofa, before he finally caught up to her. She shrieked as he grabbed her around the waist, picking her up off the ground. “Mine now!”
She kicked the air, hollering and struggling, slapping at his arms, as he planted her down on her back on the soft upholstered surface of his sofa. Then he was over her once more, his hand fisted in her hair, pinning her down.
It was a very different expression he wore on his face than the one he had on the stairs. Even if the position was about the same. But this time, he was between her legs. “No more knees to the groin. You used your weekly quota.”
“I have a quota?”
“Mmhm.” He leaned down, his face inching near to hers. “You do. One nut shot a week.”
“Is this negotiable? I think that number is entirely too low, and we never discussed it.”
He laughed and leaned down, kissing her cheek. He was smiling. It was a real smile—not edged in mania or any of his usual feral sharpness. She opted not to mention that he was still covered in dried blood. “I’ll have my people call your people.”
“Are you going to get off me?”
“There are so many things I could say to that.” He thought it over for a second. “But no.” And with that, he collapsed onto her. She grunted at the sudden weight as he laid his head on her chest, his arms around her. He was holding her. It wasn’t sexual—not really. It felt…just like simple affection.
She reached up and stroked his hair. He nuzzled into her, his eyes shut. She watched him for a long moment. “Are you all right?”
“No. Not ever going to be all right. I don’t think I’ve ever been ‘all right,’ now that I think about it. I lived my life hating Aon for being the King of All. Because I remembered the past that the others chose to forget. I died because I believed Under was more than a playground built for him by the Ancients, and I was wrong. Now I live because…I don’t know. I don’t know why I’m here. Why me? Why not Qta? Or anyone else who wanted to come back?”
“You wish you had stayed dead?”
“Of course. Although…right now, it’s not so bad.” He nuzzled into her again, a ghost of a smile tracing his features before it faded. “I have a comfy pillow. It’d be more comfortable if you let me unwrap these damn bandages of yours.”
She chuckled. “No.”
“I’m gonna do it someday. Someday soon, too.”
“Rxa?”
“Hm?”
“Why haven’t you kissed me yet?”
He paused. Shifting, he pushed himself up until he was over her once more, caging her in. He placed a palm to her cheek, resting the pad of his thumb to the hollow of her chin beneath her lower lip, his sharp claw just grazing the sensitive flesh. His pale, yellow eyes flicked to her lips, as if thinking about what it might be like. “Why? Do you want me to?”
“I figured…generally, kissing comes first, doesn’t it?” She hesitated. She was dodging his question. She saw the strange vulnerability in his expression. He was an open wound. It was her decision whether or not she wanted to pour salt in it. He thinks his whole life has been a lie. The least I can do is…be honest with him. “And…yeah. I do.”
“I haven’t kissed anyone in…oh, at least six thousand years.”
“What?” She furrowed her brow.
He smirked. “Think about it. I wore a full mask for five thousand. Then I died. Even when I fed from my partners, I turned them away so they couldn’t see my face. You are…the first person to see my face since I chained the Ancients in their grave and the sun set.”
“I…I don’t understand. Why me?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know.” He traced his fingers along her jawline, barely brushing his claws against her skin. She shivered, goosebumps rushing down her arms. He smiled at her reaction. “You love to be touched.”
“I don’t get touched very often…”
“Don’t defend it. It isn’t a bad thing.” He drifted his hand down to her throat and pressed his claws a little harder into her skin, just hard enough to sting the barest amount as he wandered over her collarbone and along her shoulder.
She bit back a noise and shifted underneath him. Her body instantly lit aflame. Desire coiled in her like snakes, sudden and unexpected. By the Grandfather, that felt so good. He was dangerous. Deadly. Broken. And a lunatic.
And gods help her, that was why she wanted him so very badly. But she needed to know the answer. “Why did you show me your face?”
“I’m not sure. I saw you—a poor creature whose life was hard before it was upended, and you were sent reeling into this world of cruelty and sadism—and I saw your compassion. You kept your head held high. But for all the violence you’ve seen, you’ve never grown cold. Not like me. Every ounce of kindness I ever showed was all a lie. Just like everything else I ever believed I was or…let other people believe. I needed you to see me. Really see me. I needed you to—” He broke off, his voice cracking as it grew thick with emotion. He smiled, his expression wavering.
It was her turn to place her palm to his cheek. She caressed him gently, and he leaned into her touch, his eyes sliding shut. “You’re beautiful, Rxa. I swear it by the old gods. You are a broken, tragic creature…but you take my breath away.”
“Thank you,” he whispered. He turned his head to kiss her palm, slow, hot, and sensual, and it felt like electricity crawled up her arm at the gesture. When he broke away, he grazed her skin with his teeth. “Now. Before I spoil my plans, I’m going to shower. I have an elaborate dinner to prepare.”
She lowered her hand and watched as he climbed off her.
He looked down at his bloody shirt and made a face. “Oh, right. I’m a mess. I forgot.” He shot her a raised eyebrow. “You wanted me to kiss you like this?”
“I’m getting used to it.”
He chuckled and shook his head. “You’re a strange girl, Ember. But I’d have it no other way.”
He walked away then, leaving her there on the sofa. She let out a long sigh and stretched out, shutting her eyes. She knew tonight she would have to make a difficult choice. Wanting Rxa was wrong. Feeling anything for a man who represented all she had ever fought against was wrong.
But when he touched her? When he smiled at her? When they talked? The memory of him chasing her around the house, playfully growling and snarling as they goofed around like children made something in her heart grow warm.
It felt right.
The question just remained…which half would win?
22
Rxa threw himself headlong into making dinner. He had always loved to cook, and now he was on a mission. He was going to make a chocolate cheesecake with raspberry sauce, steak, roasted potatoes—and so on. He put out some cheese, crackers, and olives for them to enjoy while he worked.
Ember had changed, which was a little disappointing. He really had hoped that she’d go fully topless instead, but…all things in their time. He was humming contentedly, enjoying having something to focus on.
Cooking. And her. His wonderful little mortal. His compassionate creature. His Ember.
Who had an obsession with chocolate, apparently. Laughing, he kept having to swat her hand away as she reached out to steal a few of the dark chocolate chunks he was going to melt down for the cheesecake.
“What is this stuff?” She poked at a piece of the dark chocolate on the counter. He let her have a few before he moved the bowl away from her. “I don’t know as I’ve ever seen anything like it.”
“It comes from a bean called cacao. It grows on trees. You mill it down, mix it with milk, and you have that. Chocolate is one of the few things Under has insisted on learning to grow.” He chuckled. “The House of Words runs several large greenhouses that simulate the Earthen sun, so we can grow limited things that remind us of home.”
“Where do you get the milk…?” Ember asked warily.
He laughed. “Best you don’t know.”
She made a face, shrugged, and picked up the piece of dark chocolate and ate it. It seemed that she really knew how to roll with the punches. He supposed she would have to have that skill, living as she had. Alone and fighting for survival at every turn. The thought of it made his heart hurt.
He smiled at her sadly.
She arched an eyebrow. “What?”
“Just thinking about all the years you’ve spent, fearing for your life.” He went back to preparing dinner. She seemed to like to watch him cook. That thought made his heart do something other than hurt. He wasn’t sure what it was yet, however.
“I’m not afraid for my life. I know that any second I could die. Nothing’s changed. The method of my death has just gotten a bit more…uh…impressive.” She chuckled. “At least when you get bored and kill m
e, I’ll die by something a little more appealing than a drengil.”
“Well. I mean. I could just feed you to them.” He gestured with his spoon while he talked. “You’re assuming that I want to eat you. Who knows what diseases you have?”
She rolled her eyes. “I’m poisonous to them, remember?”
“I have plenty of drengil. Might be fun to watch.” He grinned wickedly at her.
“Didn’t peg you for a voyeur.”
“Oh, darling. This is Under. When you’ve grown as old as I have, you’ve tried every kink in the book out of sheer boredom. Including voyeurism and pegging.” He laughed.
“What’s pegging?” She waved her hand. “No, no, never mind. Don’t tell me. Please don’t tell me.”
That brought a louder laugh out of him. “Maybe someday you’ll find out. I think you’d like it.”
“I said don’t tell me!”
“I’m not.” He watched her for a second and let out a thoughtful noise. “Although I’m eager to find out what you are into. I think I have a suspicion.” He watched her cheeks grow pink, and she looked away shyly. Such a brave, vicious, strong woman. But so timid about herself. He would have a great deal of fun finally unraveling her. “I think you would very much like it if I took the lead. Don’t worry, darling. I have no problem giving you a helping hand off the ledge of your own turmoil.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Mmhm.” He put the chocolate in the double boiler to melt, turning his back to her while he worked. “I think you do.”
Silence. That meant that she did. His smile turned wicked. Oh, tonight was going to be very much fun. “I plan to spoil you rotten with this dinner. I’m going to make you a meal like you’ve never had before—and then we will drink some wine, drink some more wine, and then some more…and we’ll see if I’m right.”
“Do I get a say in this?”
“Not really.”
Something bounced off his shoulder and clattered to the ground. Looking down, he laughed as he saw a spoon there. Another one whacked him in the back of the head. “You’re so violent!” He crouched down to pick them up and place them back on the counter. He leaned over it closer to her. “Do you take as well as you give, though? That’s my question.”
Grave of Words (Fall of Under Book 2) Page 19