Fable of Happiness (Fable 2) - Page 101

He made me dare to dream that perhaps, just perhaps, I might be strong enough to save him.

Was that possible?

Or just a stupid fantasy?

I never relaxed as he kissed his way from my mouth to my jaw to my ear. His touch made my nerves dance with need, but I stayed stiff. I was too conditioned to expect his cruelness, his coldness. I was floundering the longer he treated me gently.

Dropping his hands from my cheeks, he ran them lightly down my throat to my shoulders.

I tensed to stone. I couldn’t help it. His fingers near my neck made instincts wary of his intentions.

“It fucking kills me to know I’m the reason you tense like that.” He ran his thumbs over my shoulders, leaving a wake of tingles. His gaze fell on my shirt buttons between my breasts.

My nipples instantly pebbled, hungry for touch, choosing recklessness instead of common sense.

His breath caught. His right hand dropped lower and cupped me. “I’m not going to hurt you,” he whispered, running his touch over my nipple and sending a lance of fire to my core. “I give you my word. Tonight, I’m yours.”

His mouth slipped back over mine as his hand palmed my entire breast. This time, when his tongue dipped past my lips, I touched him back with mine.

I willingly kissed him, and his chest vibrated with a growl of gratitude.

His mouth opened wider as his broken arm came up and fumbled with the buttons on my pearl-colored shirt. “Do you give me permission?” he breathed into the kiss, sweeping me off my feet and ensuring I had no way to stay standing.

I nodded once.

A welcome I hadn’t intended on giving. He didn’t wait for me to second-guess. His fingers undid the shirt quickly, trailing down my stomach, splaying the material and exposing me.

He was going too fast.

He was going too slow.

I didn’t know what the hell I wanted anymore.

He pulled away, his gaze locking onto my bare breasts as he pushed the shirt off my shoulders. His soft groan made answering desire twist in my belly. The material fluttered to the earth.

Our eyes caught.

I stopped breathing.

I swayed on the spot as he drank me in. His eyes burned black, his teeth sank into his bottom lip, and his body shifted as if seeing me naked pushed him into places he couldn’t survive.

“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” His voice was thick and full of gravel.

I ducked my head, hair swinging over my shoulder to obscure half my face.

He instantly swept it back, tucking the strands behind my ear, trembling at the contact. My skin broke out in goose bumps. The garden was alive with electricity. It seemed as if the very earth was a conduit, pulsing beneath our feet in time with our racing hearts.

Our dynamics of him fully clothed and me entirely naked ought to have once again put me in the role of his prisoner, yet the way he watched me? The way his entire body shuddered for mine? I felt powerful, special, and strong.

Not saying a word, he held out his hand.

I took it silently, letting him guide me to the bath with hot embers underneath. He raised his palm, giving me something to hold while I studied the water with skepticism. Would it be cold? Hot? Just right? Would he join me? What was he going to do to me once I was in the water?

He cocked his chin, a boyish eagerness on his handsome, hardened face. “Please.”

I swallowed hard and raised a leg, slipping my toes into the bath, cursing the chain dangling from my ankle. I hissed in delight as the delicious warm water lapped around me. I wanted to jump in headfirst. I craved heat after so many icy showers.

“Shit, is it too hot?” He rushed to check, dipping his fingers into the bath.

My mind returned to how his tongue had felt licking around my own fingers in the conservatory. How he’d effortlessly made my knees weak and core wet. He might’ve been a plaything for so many cruel people, but they hadn’t managed to steal his essence. The very core of him glittered with masculinity, sex, and power.

Sinking into the warm embrace, I shook my head. “It’s perfect. It’s just—” I bit back things clawing to be said. Questions I was desperate to ask. Subjects I probably shouldn’t discuss.

“It’s what?” he asked quietly, caught up in the attraction humming between us.

“What are you doing to me?” I choked. Damn, I hadn’t meant to ask that. “I mean...what are you going to do to me?”

He winced and balled his hands as I huddled into the bath, letting it lap around my shoulders. “I could ask you the same question,” he murmured, heavy and full of lust. “Ever since you came here, you’ve done something to me. Things I can’t control. Things I’m terrified of.”

Tags: Pepper Winters Fable Erotic
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