Reverence - Book 2

- 37 -

"Say it again."

He breathed, his fingers trailing along my jaw. I leaned against the touching longingly. My cheeks were warm from the flushing blaze.

"I love you."

It was a timid whisper, my chin tucked low into my chest. I felt the smile turn into his fingers.

"You don't knw how long I've burned to hear those words on your tongue, principessa."

Those fingers turned into my hair, gripping at the base of my neck.

"That horrid, angelic tongue with it's power to bring me to my knees "

His voice was low, swirling with the veracity of fire on wind.

I could feel this pulse on the back of my neck. I could taste the closeness of his lips, smell the sweetness of his breath.

"Kiss me."

I whispered to him.

"Like the first time."

There was a softness in his face now.

It was as if we were together again then, standing on that stone balcony as the cool night air blew gauzy linen curtains around our feet and his strong hands were around my waist and I was falling. Falling into the touch of his mouth against my own. Falling away from the notions of who he was.

Falling in love.

His hands cherished the sides of my face, and those full wanting lips were on mine once more, pressing needfully against my own.

"I wish you could taste the sweetness of your mouth."

He sighed against my lips, tongue playfully trailing against my own.

My fingers meddled against the buckle of his belt, pulling the leather tongue from his belt loops. I felt the lean of his hips as my hands worked, turning the buckle loose.

"Wait"

He gasped, jerking away his hips from my grasp.

"I don't want you to think that this is what I want."

I looked up at him.

"I know, It's what I want."

I breathed coolly.

"Only if you are sure."

He whispered back softly, fingers tracing along my cheek.

I let the quiet fall of his trousers be my answer. The heat that emanated from his thighs fawned over me, and the rise of goose flesh tattled of his desire.

I let my fingers travel along his hard skin, feeling the ripple of muscle beneath. His head lolled back at the touch of my hands.

"Yelena..."

It came from low in his throat, deep and vibrating. It was almost like a warning growl.

I saw them then. 8 minuscule crescent moons scattered down his thighs like fractured little stars. I ran my nail over one, my brow knit in confusion.

My fingers were slick with blood and my tongue drooled saliva in cool rivers.

"You."

I whispered. His eyes were on me, dark and hypnotic.

"It was you. In Balashikha."

His smile was ice.

"I suppose it was."

A new fire burned in the base of my throat. How hadn't I known? The way he had touched me, the power of his hips and the deepness of his passion.

"I wondered if you knew before, if your body still held the score."