Page 32 of Captive

“Nhaava.”

He positioned himself against her. Novikke held her breath as he slowly pushed into her. She lifted her legs to wrap around his waist, and then she had very little leverage with which to control what was happening. She felt a spike of anxiety, until he bent to kiss her neck and ran a firm, gentle hand through her hair.

He murmured words she didn’t understand as he worked his hips against her.

“Oh, gods,” Novikke whispered, breathless as pleasure soaked into her through his body. Her hands rested on his back, tracing muscles that flexed as he moved.

It shouldn’t feel this good. None of this should be so good. It had no right to be. She knew perfectly well that after this, nothing would change. She would still be a prisoner and he would still be a night elf. But right then, at that moment, she could only feel positive things toward him.

She grabbed onto him as her climax rushed through her. For a brief moment, she felt none of her problems, none of the danger she was in, none of the animosity between them—only the feeling of his body against hers. For just a moment, the entire world disappeared and there was only the two of them.

Aruna gasped, his hips wrenching toward her as her thighs squeezed him. He pulled out of her, spilling himself over her stomach.

He tipped his head down, breathing hard. She was surprised when he leaned forward and cupped her cheek in one hand.

“Avkenash va chandar khova?” he asked, grinning sloppily.

She didn’t know what to say.

He blinked.

His smile faded. He leaned away from her. He looked away and started to get up. Novikke grabbed his arm. He paused, looking down at her guiltily.

She didn’t want to be dragged back to reality just yet. Just a few more minutes of this. A few more minutes of holding someone and pretending everything was all right.

After a few seconds, he gave in and stretched out on the cold ground beside her, still looking pensive. They lay side by side in silence.

She was looking down at his dark chest, at the angles in his shoulders and collarbones, at the black hair pooling around his head. She had the urge to reach out and touch him. She wanted to kiss him again. But that all seemed inappropriate now, somehow. The moment was gone.

She twitched with discomfort as the cold returned. She could feel scrapes on her back from lying against the stone. She hadn’t cared at the time, but now it hurt. There was blood smeared on both of them—from the cut on Aruna’s hand, she realized. Her cheek stung from when he’d hit her.

She gave a bitter laugh, shaking her head. “What a mess we are,” she muttered. Aruna looked over at her curiously. She got up and started dressing.

As she was shrugging on her jacket, she turned and found Aruna writing in the notebook. He was wearing a dark shirt and pants but no armor. She’d rarely seen him without the armor. The simple clothes made him look more like a normal person. Less alien.

He finished writing, but didn’t show her the page yet. Novikke raised her eyebrows at him. He glanced up at her, then tore out the page he’d been writing on, balled it up, and stuffed it in his pocket. He wrote something else, then turned the book for her to read.

“This doesn’t change anything.”

Novikke stared at him, watching his stiff expression.

“Of course not,” she sneered.

His lips twitched. He looked away, returning the book to his pocket.

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