Page 103 of Dare
“What are we?” she wondered.
A surplus of confounding emotions shone in her countenance. Fragile edges. Breakable feelings. I could not fathom these reactions, where they came from, or how to manage them. The only ones I recognized were desire and fear.
What were we? Allies? Friends? Lovers? Where did enemies fit in?
My degenerate hands seized the bottom of my chair, lest I should grab Flare’s hips. Out of options, I asked, “In what capacity?”
Her mouth thinned. “You’re stalling.”
“I do not stall. I don’t even waste time ripping off the bandage. Rather, I cut to the quick. At which point, my replies are rarely what others want to hear.”
“Tell me what you feel for me. I can handle it, same as I’ve always handled you.”
Her weight. Her curves. Her scent.
No fucking way could I answer this question reasonably. Not in this precarious position. And not with my aforementioned desires and fears stuffed in my mouth.
The rainfall intensified from a steady shower to a thick downpour. The deluge cascaded outside this enclosure. It slapped the ocean, where the tide had risen, starry sheets of water agitating the shoreline.
Like a repeat offender, Flare shimmied closer. Her irises melted, those eyelids fanning when the stub of her clit abraded the stem of my cock.
“I know you have feelings for me in that capacity,” she said, then flattened a dangerous palm against my pectoral, where my pulse went rampant. “But is there more?”
She hovered, her features caught between two inclinations. Daring. Yearning. That last one, I would have trouble demolishing. I’d rather ingest arsenic than wound this little beast.
Yet somehow, I would overcome the sight of her. To fucking prove it, I arched an eyebrow. “I could make the same statement. You’re as wet as that ocean.”
A fetching shade of red suffused her cheeks. By now, she must have registered the dampness seeping from her lingerie into my pants. How intensely could I make her flush? As pink as her pussy had been when my tongue had spread it wide?
Tempted to experiment with her complexion, I added, “Your temperature rises when you’re aroused.”
She ran a digit across the smudge of blue beneath my lower lashes. “And your eyes change color.”
“Your exhalations thicken, as they had when you watched me bathe.”
Contrition deepened Flare’s skin. “You’ve watched me too.”
I had. On many occasions. Similar to castle life, privacy was a luxury here. We had writhed in the other’s presence while sick and groomed in plain sight of one another. I had raved twice in her presence. Most pertinent of all, I had lost control during the lightning rainstorm and in the medical chamber where I’d fucked her with my mouth. At this juncture, we had seen a great deal of each other.
Be that as it may, the impetuous female curled into my torso. Thus, she reminded me of one remaining appendage she hadn’t yet observed.
I slit my eyes. Usually, a mere look from me had warriors pissing themselves. But such attempts were futile here. Watching me fight to maintain composure entertained the beast, her fingers making a cataclysmic trek from my jaw to my abdomen, the effect toughening my dick.
“Do you have a remedy for that?” she asked.
“I should be so lucky,” I husked.
“Does it hurt?”
“No comment.”
“What makes it happen?”
“You cannot be serious.”
Her teasing features contorted into a scowl. Marvelous. I had vexed her. That, I could live with. Whatever was happening between us could not be categorized, but anger toward one another … That, we had down to a science.
“I was asking about the medical reason,” Flare clarified. “I know plenty about the graphic one.”