Page 69 of White Horse Black Nights

My heart opens like a cracked door, letting in the faintest rays of light. “I—I want this, Basten. I want you. Now—maybe forever. That’s the best I can give you.”Maybe. Maybe. Maybe.So many maybes I’m drowning in them. So many maybes I’m terrified.

He stills. A strange calm comes over his face, like he’s given into a battle he didn’t know he was fighting. “Okay.”

“O—okay.”

And it’s done. It’s sealed. My mind can hardly process the fact that after so many days of wanting to escape my fate of marrying Rian Valvere, I’m getting my wish. Not only that, but so much more. I’m getting freedom. I’m getting thesea. And gods—gods—I’m getting Basten, and that’s the best part of all. I can’t predict what the future holds for us, but as terrified as I am of letting that door in my heart open wider, the light is pushing through.

The waterfall pounds steadily behind him, so I can’t hear his heartbeat, but I imagine it’s thudding as hard as mine. He takes a jolting step toward me like this isn’t real. Like it’s a dream. He sinks to his knees next to me. His eyes drink in the sight of me in the blanket and nothing else.

My body turns on like a star, blazing for him. I grab him by the shoulders. My voice catches as I whisper huskily, “All those things you said you’d do to me at the inn? I want you to do them to me.Now.”

How many times have I fantasized about that game of pretend? How many times has he?

His hot palm rests at the base of my neck, heavy like an iron necklace. “We both know that if this happens, everything will change. If we start, I don’t think I’ll be able to stop.”

I whisper, “I don’t want you to stop.”

He has a single moment of hesitation, then his eyes spark as he stands up and gives the order, “Lay back.”

I’m shaking as I lay on the cave floor, still wrapped tightly in the blanket. Basten looks me over from my head to my toes like a present he can barely keep from tearing into. He stands on either side of my hips, then lowers to his knees to straddle me.

My pulse scrambles like buzzing bees in my veins. His body weight on my hips feels good, but my stomach is roiling, my thighs trembling.

He places his hand flat on the base of my neck again, slowing my breath. “Let your body relax. I’ll go slow. I’ll take care of you.”

Of course he can hear how wildly my heart is beating. How I’m both excited and afraid of what’s to come. Once I’m fighting for steadier breaths, he moves his thumb to my mouth, dragging it over my bottom lip and letting the fingertip graze the hard edge of my teeth.

“I’ve thought a million times about how I’d fuck you.”

In the inn, he never kissed me, only touched the burning places he would want to. Now, my breath stalls in anticipation as he lowers to close his lips around mine. True to his word, the kiss starts slowly. He’s taking his time, savoring this. His lips guide mine toward deepening the connection, and then his tongue pushes against my lips’ seam. They part for him, and he slides his tongue over mine in long strokes that I instinctively match.

He groans into my mouth as he pulls back. His index finger moves down my neck to settle in the hollow at the base of my throat.

My skin is already snapping, craving his touch, before he plants his lips on my neck. He breathes hotly onto my skin, then licks the hollow at the base of my throat with the tip of his tongue, like lapping up honey.

I moan.

His lips blaze a trail lower on my chest, to where my godkiss birthmark rides on my breastbone. His hands find the blanket’s edges, coaxing me to release my tight hold on it.

My arms lock, a last attempt to hold the blanket around me. My final wall. But he gently eases my arms away from my chest, guiding them to lay flat at my sides. He unfolds the blanket one side at a time, slowly exposing my bare, full breasts.

He takes a moment to appreciate the sight. His hand cups the heft of my left breast, squeezing and fondling softly. His fingers deftly roll the nipple until it hardens like a pebble. My head tips back on the blanket. His touch feels like magic. I want it everywhere.

Without warning, he takes my nipple into his mouth. A gasp springs to my lips as I arch my back, thrusting the nipple further between his lips. He claims it, sucks it, then gently bites down.

I cry out. “Basten!”

“That’s it, little violet. Tell me what you like.”

It’s getting hard to think. I’m trying to remember what came next at the inn. What hot, filthy promise did he moan against my skin? All I can concentrate on is the growing spark catching fire in my lower half.

He releases my nipple to plant hot kisses along the contours of my stomach. A freckle on my ribs. One near my navel. Another on the curve of my right hip. As his lips move lower, he peels back the blanket, opening me up to the waterfall’s cool mist, the fire’s hot blaze, and his own covetous look, until I’m entirely nude.

This is as far as our game of pretend went at the inn, but now, it feels like only the beginning. I gaze up at him, gently biting my bottom lip. “And now what?”

“This.”

His hand cups the wet heat between my legs. I swallow a moan, my hips bucking against the weight of his palm. He presses the rough base of his hand against the tight knot at the top of my groin, then slowly sinks one finger into my core. He stops at the first knuckle, stroking me shallowly and slowly.

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