Page 87 of Of Night and Blood: Special Edition

“Princess,” he whispered into my mouth, tugging his mouth away from mine to stare into my eyes. I knew what he was searching for in me, the reassurance he would need before he would allow us to go any further.

“I will not choose between the fae and the demons,” I said. He stilled, looking up at me with half closed lids and rosy cheeks. His swollen lips were a temptation that I had to look away from to resist.

Closing my eyes, I pushed on.

“I will fight for freedom. No fae or demon or mortal is entirely innocent, but none deserve to suffer through a war. My allegiance lies with those who stand to lose the most, those who have been looked over, those I have wronged. I may not be worthy of their love or the title of queen, but none will suffer if I can help it. I fight for them, as I should have before,” I proclaimed, not daring to open my eyes until I was finished.

When I did, Bellamy’s mouth was parted slightly, his blue eyes glittering with something akin to pride. His fingers met my cheeks once more, sliding down slightly to grip my jaw and neck.

“I will stand beside you, a soul far more deserving of a crown than any before her. Your wish, your fight, your will, it is all my command. If you will have me, Princess, I am here.” His heart sped up beneath my palm, as if perhaps he expected me to deny him. Somehow, I knew he would still love me after, no matter what choices I made. My own beat quicker, the sound drowning out my heavy breaths and invasive thoughts.

I recalled the strange fae’s words in my dream and Sterling’s insults. Considered the possibility that Bellamy might be tricking me. Each horrible moment that led us here flashed before my eyes. Every fear came at me, told me that I only stood to lose more.

Yet, staring at the demon prince, I had no doubts that he loved me, more than anyone ever had. More than anyone ever would. I felt it radiating from him as he slowly dropped his shields, allowing what little power I had regained to taste the adoration in his mind.

Yes, he loved me. And I loved him too.

I loved the sound of his laughter. I loved the way his cheeks and eyes crinkled when he truly smiled. I loved the way he held me when I was breaking without judgement. I loved the way he pushed me to be strong. I loved the way he conveyed his life and emotions through paint. I loved his heart and how deeply he cared for creatures of every kind. I loved his devious side, how he would purposefully brush his hand against my thigh and send deliciously inappropriate thoughts my way. I loved his remorse and strength and recklessness. I even loved his past and his anger.

Somehow, during the last two months, I had fallen for someone who I had once thought was my enemy. I had lost my family, my life, my home. But in that loss came something new. Yes, I lost more than I ever thought possible, but I found more than I could have ever asked for.

I found freedom. I found love. I found myself.

And though I knew I did not deserve love, I accepted it. Took it in and gave it right back.

“I choose you, Bell. Now and always. Wanting you is as natural as breathing. No matter what has happened, despite everything we have done to one another, I have never stopped wanting you. And now, if you will let me, I choose you. I choose you because I love you too.”

A breathy moan left him at my words, and then our lips were meeting once more.

Chapter Forty-Eight

Kissing Bellamy had always ignited a visceral spark within me. This kiss though, was something else entirely. It sent a wave of pleasure down my body, and made me feel as if my skin was on fire. Perhaps it was. I could hear the way the waterfall outside began to pour faster, timed with the beat of the prince’s racing heart. The loose gravel beneath us shook slightly as well, with wind coming in bursts down the tunnel of the cave.

I would not be surprised if Bellamy’s fire was being called upon, heat pouring from his skin and onto my own. And I could not deny that it felt wonderful in contrast to the cold of the cave floor that seemed to seep through my trousers.

Everything about this moment was blissful.

My hands roamed down Bellamy’s neck, reaching his toned chest and dragging down his arms. I felt the cords of muscle beneath his tunic as they flexed under my fingers, and when I reached his hands, I guided them down my cheeks and neck. I continued to slide them until they met my breasts, and then I let go, giving the demon all the encouragement he would need.

His answering gasp was euphoric, the breath whooshing onto my mouth. Then his tongue was at my lips, sliding across the seam.

Playfully, I kept them sealed. Bellamy of course, had other plans. One of those hands reached down and squeezed my backside, earning a yelp from me. He took the opportunity to slide his tongue inside, wrapping it with my own and tasting me with a feverish hunger.

I moved my hands to work on the buttons of his cloak, unfastening it and letting the cloth fall to the floor. Then I began swiftly untying his tunic, my nails grazing his skin every so often, earning encouraging moans from him. I smiled into our kiss, enjoying this untamed version of the demon. Enjoying being in control.

Slipping the red tunic off his shoulders, I saw the rise and fall of his muscled shoulders, the black tattoos there writhing on his skin under the green hue. Or were they tattoos? I had never seen any sort of ink move like that. Before I could inquire about them, his lips began traveling at an achingly slow pace down my throat, settling for that spot where neck and shoulder met.

Humming softly with the contact, I brought my fingers to his hair, tugging lightly. His hands flashed to my chest, lips and tongue never leaving my neck, and removed my cloak. Then he uncinched the brown leather vest that had been layered over the red top below. When he finally tore me out of it, his quick fingers found the hem of my tunic and tugged up, leaving me topless and exposed to the frigid air.

For a moment, he simply stared at my upper half, drinking in tanned skin and peaked nipples and every soft curve. Normally, I might have been self-conscious, worried he would find me unappealing. But he had seen me this way before, and thoroughly enjoyed the image. And had he not told me how beautiful I was on countless occasions?

He had said he loved me, and that was enough to not flinch at his unyielding stare.

He placed tender kisses to my breasts, my stomach, my shoulders, as if he could hear my thoughts. Then his face was inches from mine, eyes such a clear blue that they reflected back the green light around us. When his lips brushed mine briefly, I thought I might die of bliss.

“Do you want me?” he asked into my ear, taking the lobe into his mouth briefly before offering a kiss to the jagged tip. I groaned, nodding my head in confirmation. “Tell me what you want, and I will give it to you. Allow me to make you feel like the queen you were always meant to be,” he rasped.

His voice, as always, melted my core. It was erotic and deep, sending chills down my back that even the cold could not manage. More than anything, I wanted him to feel as out of control as I did.

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