Page 75 of What Is Dark Within Me

She shook her head, returning his grin. Aleja couldn’t help it. She enjoyed Nicolas like this, with his guard let down and his complicated half-smile given for her and her alone—even if they were about to breach a Dark Saint’s compound with little idea what was waiting for them.

But maybe that sort of thing was normal for her and Nicolas.

Now you’re getting it, the voice whispered.

“Is that why you wouldn’t let me touch you before? Because you didn’t know if my past self would have wanted it?”

He gave a small shrug, returning his attention to his shoes. “It’s complicated. You’re not here of your own choosing. In the Hiding Place, we value knowledge and free—”

“Free will, I know. But Iwantto touch you, Nic.”

This time, when his eyes returned to her, she almost shrank away. It wasn’t at their color; Aleja was used to that by now. It was the intensity of his expression.

“Maybe I’m only a stupid witch who lit the black candle not knowing what she was getting into, but this person—whoever I am right now—wants to touch you,” she went on.

She could hardly finish, unsure of who had taken the last few steps to close the distance between them. Aleja half-closed her eyes, expecting Nicolas’s lips to crash into hers, but she felt the ghost of his breath against her cheek as he spoke again. “I must warn you about how we were before. Obsessive. Monstrous. Otherlanders do nothing halfway.”

It felt like she was back in Agnes Flanders’s cellar, standing atop a hidden sigil, about to bargain something precious away. Well, fuck, she thought to herself. I guess I don’t learn from my mistakes.

No, you certainly do not, said the voice.

A nod was enough for Nicolas.

He kissed her before she could process anything other than the taste of vanilla and woodsmoke. There was heat. So much heat she was afraid she’d accidentally set fire to the room, but it was simply the press of his body against hers. And it didn’t hurt, not at all; she moved closer, curling her hands into his collar, rising to her tiptoes so she could feel the crush of his chest against hers.

In the haze of it, Aleja realized she’d never been kissed like this. Nicolas’s hands cupped her face, his teeth occasionally nipping at her lower lip, and through the kiss he spoke. About blood-splattered love. About betrayal and forgiveness. About waiting centuries for someone and knowing you would wait for centuries more.

She didn’t break away until his hands reached her waistband. “Wait,” she murmured into the kiss, her words barely intelligible. “I said I wanted to touchyou.”

He didn’t answer out loud, but his eyes flew open. Their faces were so close she could see a faint hint of luminescent blue in his irises. He didn’t stop her when she undid the top button of his trousers. Then another.

Nicolas stepped out of them as they dropped to the floor, and she got her first proper look at his erection straining against a modern pair of briefs. Well, she thought to herself, I guess I shouldn’t have expected the Knowing One to be average.

“Against the wall,” she managed, cursing herself that they hadn’t moved to a room with an actual bed, and it was too late now.

The grin he gave her in return was all Nicolas—lop-sided and with a hint of self-satisfaction she’d learned to like. “Bossing me around now, dove?”

“Going to argue about it, Knowing One?”

He was not. She heard the thump of his back against the wall as they took a few steps together, and she realized she had no clue what she was doing. But oh, his cock was lovely; a shade darker than the rest of his skin, with a set of soft ridges that made her jaw clench.

“Wait,” he murmured. “If you want this, I won’t stop you, but you need to promise me something. This is the only time you get on your knees, understand? You don’t bow, you don’t kneel, for anyone or anything else.”

Aleja nodded, not entirely sure what she was agreeing to.

The floor was cold as she sank to the ground, suddenly self-conscious. Maybe they needed more foreplay. Maybe she was terrible at this; it’d been awhile,after all. But he gave a strangled gasp as she tentatively kissed his shaft, and it convinced her she would do anything to force that sound out of him again. She swiped her tongue over a dollop of wetness gathering at the top of his length. It was faintly sweet. His fingers curled into her hair and gave a soft tug.

“I’ve always known you were going to be the death of me,” he muttered.

Aleja decided now would be a good time to prove him right.

She took in as much of him as she could, using her free hand to wrap around his base. If Nicolas had any complaint about her technique, he didn’t voice it. When she glanced up, his eyes were on her, his mouth kiss-darkened and glistening. “You’re the most beautiful fucking thing I’ve ever seen. Do you know that?”

The words devolved into a moan as she found a rhythm. Now that she’d locked eyes with him, she couldn’t bring herself to look away. Nor could he. She braced her free hand against his hips, feeling the way his abs trembled as she worked him.

Maybe she should have drawn this out, Aleja thought, but he already looked so beautifully disheveled that the need to see him fall apart completely overwhelmed her.

“Is this how you want to make me come, dove?” he asked.

---