Page 38 of Princess of Air

“I don’t care!”

“Don’t you?”

He growls the words, and I look down, remembering Jamys and how much I do need to care about making a scene with Tomas. A grunt rumbles in the back of my throat. I fling a bubble around us both and throw us across a pond and up over the outer wall. It dissolves while we’re still moving into a thick patch of forest, and I use the momentum as I stomp off deeper into the woods.

“Is she why you insisted on coming here?” His steps sound behind me, but I have to keep moving or I’ll explode. “Because honestly, right in front of me!”

“Are you insane?” Tomas’ voice is close. Close enough to make his frustration clear. Good. I’m glad I’m not the only one pissed off. “I forgot she was here!” He grabs my shoulder, stopping me, and spins me toward him. “How can you possibly be jealous of someone from my past when…” His mouth sets into a hard line, and he takes two steps back. The rise and fall of his shoulders are exaggerated. His eyes bore into me, accusation sharp in his stare, as if I’m the one who wronged him.

“Is she from your past?” Neither of us will mistake my quietness for calmness, but I fake it anyway. “She seems to have flitted right into the present.”

“Again, she can’t take a hint. Or a direct explanation. I haven’t been with anyone but you since our first time.” He says it like I should know, like it’s obvious. Wide-eyed and silently pleading for me to understand when he hasn’t given me any certainty that I understand anything.

My eyes prickle as my chest continues to heave. It isn’t information I’d known I wanted, but it lets something take root in me—the thought that we are more than a physical affair for him too. That idea is more dangerously forbidden than his body ever could be. “At the time, it didn’t occur to me you had been with other women before me. It seems obvious now. You clearly knew what you were doing.”

In a flash of lighting, his demeanor shifts to the confident one I’ve grown so familiar with—broad shoulders back and a lopsided grin so faint, I have to stare at his lips to be certain it’s there. “I always thought you benefited from me knowing what I’m doing.”

It’s all I can do not to squirm. “I did, but I didn’t know.”

“Why does it matter?”

“Because I didn’t know what I was doing.” Gods, I can’t believe I’m admitting this. “And I was probably awkward and dreadful, and—”

“Bell. You know that was not the case.” He moves toward me, and I have sense enough to back up, but a tree stops my retreat. I’ve never been more grateful to be thwarted. “For starters, you know it was incredible.” He braces one hand on the trunk above my head, looming over me. My desire and the heat radiating off him cage me in. Somehow, I think he knows I couldn’t possibly move away. “Also, if it were bad, it wouldn’t have continued for as long as it did.”

I flinch at the use of past tense. We are through, aren’t we? We should be. I can’t let this continue. This man is my past, not my future. But with him so close, all I want is to close the gap between us. Desire to feel the rough stubble along his jaw is still powerful, though I know the feeling so well now. The need to see his body consumes me, as if I don’t already have the image preserved in my mind. It’ll all fade. I’ll lose it if enough time passes, and that’s too terrible to conceive.

Wedged between Tomas and the tree, the rumbling of thunder sounds closer. It doesn’t take much to open the floodgates, not when our attraction makes the very air between us tremble. I brush my fingers through the hair behind his ear and let my hand settle on his neck. He leans into it gently—a grounding weight in my palm.

“Am I part of your past?” My voice is no more than a whisper. Any louder and it would crack.

His face sinks toward mine so slightly, but my fingers press into his neck the way they would if he’d moved all the way in to kiss me. “That has always been up to you.”

Has it? It’s never felt as if I have any control over this. He always gives me every opportunity to pull away, to end this, yet I never can. Odd it was he whom I’m powerless against who first said I was the most powerful of Mother’s children. Magic can’t help me make the good, sensible choice. Our affair carries me on its own momentum, and no power in the world could allow me to stop it.

I lick my lips. “One last time?”

His throat bobs, and he nods so slightly, I feel it against my hand more than see it. I pull him toward me gently, and his lips come to meet mine as if I had jerked him forward. I can’t hold him tight enough, can’t kiss him hard enough as he presses me back against the tree, every rough line and edge scraping me through my blouse. I could provide myself a comfortable barrier, but I want to feel everything about this moment. My clothing may get shredded. I’ll certainly have bruises. And none of that dampens my frenzy.

He spins me around, and I press my palms against the rough bark. Good. I may cry, and I don’t need him to see that. Tomas wraps his arms about me and nestles his face into the side of my neck. The scratching of his jaw against my skin slows time down. Contentment in feeling like this one last time could last forever settles into me.

“I didn’t mean to deceive you about having previous experience.” His lips are close enough to suck my earlobe between them. “But the most important things… I learned from you.”

I shake my head and pull in a shaky breath. “Don’t patronize me. I know you—”

“It’s true.” He kisses the soft spot behind my ear, and my core melts. “I know you like that, because your toes curl when I do it.” And they have. I stretch and flex my feet within my boots, as if that would disprove him.

“I know this pleases you…” His fingers graze down my collarbone, under my tunic, and to my breast. I take a sharp breath when he rolls my nipple between two fingers. “Because you gasp, and Bell, that is one of my favorite sounds.”

A fingertip sweeps down the center of my body, and even with a layer of fabric in between, my skin tightens. “I know you love this…” His hand slides under my leggings. “Because I find you wet.” A finger slides through the inevitable moisture, and my knees turn to water.

His other hand slides onto my stomach as he massages and explores me with his fingertips. “Without words, you tell me you like this…”—two fingers thrust into me, and my back arches, pushing my ass against the evidence of his own desire—“with every one of those little movements you just made.” His fingers slide out and in, curling inside to press against the front of me. “The way the muscles in your stomach clench.” His hand presses there to bring it to my attention before sliding it down to grasp my thigh. He pulls my leg back, spreading me open. “The way your hips circle and press against me.”

They are. An instinctive movement to try to get more of him. Under my clothes, his palm molds to my body, and I reach back to grip his hip, fingers digging in as he pulls me higher and higher toward the precipice of pleasure. Rain begins to fall, plastering my hair to my face, but I don’t care enough to block the water. He sways and rocks with me as the world tilts and spirals then it doesn’t exist at all. My shoulders contract forward, and I cry out the name of the only person still with me in the abyss.

He holds me through it and rests a hand over my thundering heart. “I know how to pleasure you because of my experience with you.” His tongue traces the rim of my ear, and I suck my lips in against each other. “Fortunately, I have a good amount of experience with that.”

I turn around to face him. His hair and skin are soaked in rain, and I’ve never thirsted for anything more. I lick a trail up his neck to his ear, the rain diluting his taste while giving me enough to make me feral. I’d be happy to lick every last drop off him. The continuing downpour would make it a perpetual task I’m all too eager to accept.

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