Page 85 of Rise of a Fallen Man

Ari’s past had damaged her, but it had also opened her eyes to the things that even her mother couldn’t see. I sensed it in her the day I met her. She’d been my light after the storm, a breath of fresh air in the suffocating smoke of hatred, scorn, and judgment.

“Thank you,” I repeated. “And thank you for the shirts again.”

She smiled, not releasing my face from her hands.

“Do you know what it means, darling?” she said tenderly. “You saved my life. No one can question my taking care of you now. I set up a fund in the crown's name for you. The queen made a huge donation too. You will never want for nothing. For as long as you live.”

“Except that the only thing I want, I still can’t have.”

“What is it?”

“You.”

Keeping in my feelings for her proved impossible. Gods knew I’d tried.

She reached up to me at the same moment as I leaned down to her, and our lips met. I had no time to think or plan for it. The kiss just happened, and now I didn’t want it to be any other way.

Somewhere out there, like in another world, doors opened, people walked, their footfalls echoed through the grand halls and corridors of the palace. I didn’t want them to see us. I didn’t want this kiss to end.

Keeping my mouth on hers, I lifted her in my arms and walked her backwards into the hallway with the silent armored suits standing guard by the wall tapestries. The fervent desire to keep her all to myself for just a second longer guided me behind a long banner and out of sight of anyone who might pass by.

She broke our kiss as I leaned her with her back against the wall, but she wouldn’t take her hands off me, stroking my cheekbones with her thumbs.

“I want you, too, Salas. Never stopped. If it’s so wrong for me to want you, then why is it the only thing in life that feels so undoubtedly right?”

I couldn’t answer it for her. As for myself, I knew why.

Thinking about her had become as natural as breathing. I needed her touch and her kisses to sustain my soul, just as I needed food to sustain my body. Next to her was the only place I wished to be.

Because I loved her.

I loved her so much that I could never tell her that. My love was of no use to a princess. I could give her nothing when she deserved everything.

A stronger man would let her be. I crushed rocks between my hands in the arena, but I wasn’t strong enough to break the invisible thread that tied me to her.

She opened the buttons of her dress, and I helped her slide the fabric off her right shoulder. The red healing scars from the dragon’s claws marred her skin. I kissed along one jagged line. Breath rushed out of her. She sank her hands into my hair, keeping me close. Slipping my hand inside her neckline, I cupped her breast.

She stilled, pressing her lips to my temple.

It was wrong of me to kiss her, to stroke her breast, to trap her nipple between my fingers... It was wrong for me to crave the sensation of her skin under my palms. Yet it felt right, and I didn’t stop. I knew she wouldn’t stop me either, as I hiked up her skirt and slid my hand up her thigh.

“You know...” she whispered against the side of my neck. “It’s onlyyourhands I think about now...” she lifted her head, meeting my eyes, “when I touch myself.”

Oh, gods.

“Fuck, sweetheart, you’re killing me,” I groaned, growing harder than a rock.

Ever since I left her bedroom, she had become my one and only fantasy. It was the most exquisite thrill to discover I was hers too.

I yanked her underwear aside to find her soaking wet already.

“You think about me as you come on your dainty little fingers, Princess?” I slipped my thick digit inside her, and her inner muscles gripped me.

“Yes...” she whimpered, rocking her hips against me. “I do.”

“Do you wish to have my big, rough hands on you?” I found her most sensitive spot and teased it with my thumb. She arched her back, her breath catching in her throat.

“Your hands are big...” She hooked her leg around my hip, opening wider for me. “But they’re never rough.”

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