Page 31 of Captive

She knocked him back to the ground and brought the dagger down toward his chest. He let go of the sword to catch her wrists, stopping the dagger before she could reach him.

She struggled against him, and he kept forcing her away. His arms shook, weak from fighting the shade. For a few seconds, they were in a stalemate. Then Novikke brought her knee up and jabbed him in the stomach. He gave a pained grunt, and his hold on her weakened enough for her to shake free.

He readjusted before she could bring the dagger down again. His hand shot out, grazing the blade as he did so. She had time to see blood drawn before both his hands grabbed at the hand holding the knife, immobilizing her arm. Her fist tightened on the hilt. She wasn’t going to let it go. He’d have to kill her for it.

She closed her other hand around his throat and squeezed. He grimaced, and after a few seconds of struggle, his grip on her grew weaker.

She wasn’t expecting the hard punch that came then—a blow across her face that sent her reeling.

The next thing she knew, he was flipping her over and climbing on top of her. In the jumble of movement, Novikke got the dagger within a few inches of his neck. He reached up to grab her wrist. Both of them shook with the effort of pushing against each other, Novikke trying to work the blade toward him and Aruna trying to keep it away.

She grasped for whatever her fingers could find, and she caught hold of the front of his shirt. His other hand was on her neck, but wasn’t squeezing. He didn’t hit her again. Like he was still reluctant to hurt her, even now. It was infuriating. She wanted him to try to kill her. Then she would try to kill him. Then things would be simple. Then she wouldn’t be so conflicted. That would be better than—than whatever in all the hells had been happening between them for the past week.

For a long second, their struggle became motionless. The dagger vibrated as they both pushed against it. Their faces were close enough that Aruna’s hair was grazing her cheeks. They both gasped for breath. His eyes bored into hers, and he looked more hurt than angry.

She wanted to laugh and cry and scream all at once.

She let him push the dagger a little farther away from his skin. To her surprise, he softened his grip on her in response.

“Why did the shade take my image?” she asked softly. “Why did she touch your face like that?”

He didn’t answer. She wondered if he guessed what she was asking.

She looked at him a moment longer, so close now that she could feel the heat of his skin. She tugged on his shirt, pulling him toward her. He didn’t resist.

Before she could think better of it, she leaned up and kissed him.

He didn’t react at first. He stayed perfectly still, like a cornered rabbit. But when she began to draw away, he pushed forward and kissed her back. A rush of lust and shame churned low in her stomach.

His mouth was hot and gentle and hungry. Each movement was somehow both tentative and vigorous, like he kept wanting to pull away but couldn’t.

The hand on her throat moved to her shoulder. He let go of the arm that was holding the dagger. Novikke let her arm fall, and after a moment of hesitation, she dropped the dagger.

She let go of his shirt and reached up to touch his cheek, like the shade had done. His skin was wonderfully soft, the bones of his face an artistic balance of angular and smooth. She pressed a hand to his armored chest and wished he wasn’t wearing so many clothes.

His hands were suddenly everywhere on her, caressing her waist and her hips and her breasts and her cheek as he claimed her mouth. A knee pressed between her legs, and she gave an involuntary moan.

Suddenly, everything was progressing very quickly. And suddenly, none of it felt difficult or complicated or confusing. It felt good and natural, and that was it.

Her hands searched for more bare skin, but his armor covered all of him in a thick layer of leather and cloth. She prodded, searching for a way to remove it. Locating laces at the side, she tore at them. She felt dizzy, and this time she didn’t think it was because of magic. She rolled her hips against him, and he made a sound that was somewhere between a sigh and a groan.

Abruptly, as if with great willpower, he pulled back and looked down at her. Novikke expected him to look hot with desire. But he looked distraught as he searched her eyes.

It broke her concentration, and put a damper on her lusty daze, which was the exact opposite of what she wanted.

She knew she shouldn’t be doing this. She knew she’d regret it. She’d been very intentionally not thinking about any of that.

She didn’t want to stop now. She didn’t want him to think better of it. Her entire body burned with arousal. Right then, she wanted him so desperately that she didn’t care about anything else.

She fumbled with his belt while he looked at her, and after a moment, he gave in and helped her remove it. There was a flurry of movement as they both shed clothes, carelessly tossing articles of clothing aside until they were both bare.

Goosebumps formed on her skin as the chill air pushed in against her, but then Aruna banished the cold. His arms wrapped around her and lowered her to the ground.

“Verun en zhira?” he said, and the sound of his voice raised her goosebumps again. She hardly ever got to hear him speak, but when he did, it was velvet against her ears, soft and even. It was so husky with desire now that there was a slight croak to it.

His erection brushed against her stomach, and she angled her knees on either side of him.

“Keep talking,” she whispered, pulling him closer.

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