Page 79 of Lore of the Wicked Wood
“Fine.” She eyed him cautiously. “But only because I feel like my body is about to quit on me.”
Atlas didn’t need to be told twice. He snared her by the hips, his palms skimming the lace straps of her nearly useless undergarments, and if he recognized that she wore barely anything beneath her dress, he made no show of it. He gathered her close, so her legs straddled his waist, and as soon as she was in his arms, she went pliant. Limp and weary, she let him support the weight of her and let her hands come to rest against his chest.
An error, on her part.
Because now they were only inches apart, and she could clearly see the way his damp shirt clung to his broad shoulders, how it molded to his solid abdomen, how it felt like she was touching the body of a damn god. Her fingers itched to rove over him, to explore every solid inch, but she didn’t dare move.In fact, her lungs compressed, and she all but forgot how to breathe.
“See?” Atlas murmured, his hands spreading ever so slightly, his fingers grazing her entirely bare bottom. “I’m not so terrible.”
When Everinne spoke, her voice was a raspy whisper. “I never said you were.”
“But you have before,” he countered smoothly.
She couldn’t meet his gaze, instead she stared at the ring on her finger. The one that had belonged to his mother. The large oval stone glinted a deep green, then a radiant blue in the play of intermittent moonbeams.
“So.” He leaned forward, pressing his forehead to hers. “Are we going to talk about this?”
She shook her head, her wet hair clinging to her bare shoulders. “I don’t believe you.”
Atlas pulled back, his brows pinched together in a scowl. “What?”
“I’m not your mate, Atlas.” The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them.
“The fuck you aren’t, Everinne.” His fingers molded to her, gripping her backside, clutching her flesh. “You want to know why I used my magic on you all those years ago? Because I couldn’t escape your thoughts. I could hear them as clearly as my own, and I wanted you just as much, if not more, than you wanted me. I figured if I used my magic, just once, then I wouldn’t be breaking my vow to Veros. I wouldn’t have touched you.”
He nipped at her bottom lip, tugging lightly. “Then you had to go and have an orgasm and those sounds you made that night…they’re burned into my memory. I still get hard just thinking about them.”
As if to prove a point, he rocked forward, rubbing his hardening length against her core. “Try again, Wildheart.”
She fisted her hands against him. Wishes to falling stars and prayers to goddesses would no longer be enough to sway the path of her fate. “It can’t be me.”
“And why not?” he demanded.
Everinne hesitated. If Atlas was her mate, he would have access to her thoughts, to her feelings, and emotions. She would have to protect herself, protect him. She did her best to shield her mind from him, to keep him locked out. There was no way he could find out that Kralv Oldrich was behind this union, that his own father had threatened to harm him, to break him, withhermagic.
If such a thing were to happen, she would never forgive herself.
She grasped hold of the only excuse she could find, the hurtful insult he’d thrown at her the night he discovered her swinging from the chandeliers in the Grand Cru.
“Because I’m broken.” Lifting her gaze, she met the hurt, met the realization reflected at her in his eyes. “You said so yourself.”
“We’re all a little broken, Ever.” His thumbs traced lazy circles along her lower hips, slowly sliding beneath the lace straps to stroke her flesh. “Sometimes, those broken pieces fit together to make something beautiful. Eventually, the sharp edges soften. The cracks and fractures fuse together to form a more perfect whole.”
Her nose began to tingle and her eyes filled, causing her vision to blur with the familiar sting of tears.
Atlas lowered his head.
“Don’t,” she whispered.
“Don’t what?”
“Don’t kiss me.”
His mouth skated along her cheek. “Afraid of the truth?”
Everinne’s bottom lip trembled, she was afraid of more than the truth. “I’m afraid of everything.”
“Not anymore. Not with me.” One hand moved to the small of her back, anchoring her against him. The other slid up her arm and around to the back of her neck. “Never again.”
