Dark Eros

13

Ife twisted in his grip, her refusal adamant.

"Must you always refuse me?" He asked quietly, the tone of his voice catching her off guard. She snapped her head up to meet his eyes and there she found something new, something that had not been there days before: tenderness.

He noticed her moment of distraction and took it upon himself to remove her dress, opening it before she had time to protest.

And then he was lifting her in his arms, bridal style. She shrieked, holding onto him out of pure reflex. He stepped into the tub and sat, fitting her in between his legs.

She molded into his body, shaping into him perfectly. He leaned back, his hands on her hips.

"You're silent?" He mumbled as he kissed her shoulder.

"What do you want me to say?" She asked bitterly, frustrated at how easily he could not only distract her but move her to do what he wanted.

He heard the annoyance in her voice and did not try to suppress the smile on his lips. "You entertained my mother, how was she?"

"Talkative."

He burst out laughing. The sound took her by surprise but she found it pleasant...it left a warm sensation in her chest.

"She worries for you," Ife said in continuation. Needing to get her mind off of how she was suddenly feeling.

He trailed his hands up her arms, gently massaging her skin. "I know she does." He sighed, leaning back. "She knows of my unease...always has."

"It baffles her that you are unhappy."

"Must I be happy because she expects it? Must I be happy because everyone else wants me to be?" He mumbled dryly, bitterly.

She turned to look up at him at his tone. There was a frown on his face, bitterness in his voice.

"You are a prince, you have said so yourself, that you crave nothing because of it. Lack nothing. You have no worries. Should you not be happy?"

He huffed before gripping her by the shoulders and turning her around so that she was on her knees facing him. "You think I have no worries? You think I am without them merely because I have a title?"

She stayed silent.

"I won't always be a prince, Ife. One day I will be a king and when that time comes I will have nothing but worry. For my people, for my sanity. I will have no peace. I have been molded since the day I was born to be king, to be respected..."

"You do not want it?" She whispered.

He chuckled at the look of wonder on her face. "Sometimes I long to be just a man....nothing more." He caressed her cheek as he said it, his thumb brushing over her bottom lip.

"That is not your fate."

"I know, Ife, I know." He mumbled as he pulled her closer, "But even I have the audacity to dream."

She fell into his chest, her breast pressing into its hardness. He tried to kiss her but she quickly turned her head. He did not take offense to her rejection, instead he kissed her temple, running a hand down the thickness of her hair, and down her back. He was so used to her denying her desire that merely decided on a new tactic: coaxing her body until her mind could take no more.

"I have something for you." He said as he reached over the tub. She eyed him wearily, not quite trusting the sudden distraction until her eyes fell on what lie in his hand.

She reached for the small pouches. The warmth fragrant bath water sloshing around them, "Tea?" She asked as she looked over the familiar pouches. "These are my sisters."

"She gave them to me the last day of the festival and asked that I share them with you."

Her eyes widened and suddenly she leaned a hand on his chest. He raised a brow in surprise, she had never touched him so voluntarily before.

"Was my grandmother with her? How was she?"

He laid his hand on top of hers, squeezing it gently, trying to soothe her concerns. "She seemed lively." On the subject of the old woman he could not help his curiosity, "She is blind?"

Ife nodded, "Yes. She lost her sight years ago. Why do you ask?"

Fumnaya smirked in amusement, "She is not blind."

"She is." Ife insisted.

He looked her in the eyes, tilting his head. "You have the same eyes."

Ife frowned.

He leaned toward her, cupping her neck so that she could not run from him, his lips nearly touching hers. "She saw me just as you see me. I felt it, her gaze was much like yours."

Recognition wandered into Ife's eyes and she suddenly understood. "Stop it." She demanded softly. He was playing at her sentimentality, making her question his warmth.

And in his eyes it appeared once more, an emotion that was becoming more and more frequent with the passing days: tenderness. She had been seeing it often in his eyes...it had seemingly taken up the space beside his lust.

He hugged her closer still, her body pressing against his, no room to garner any space before kissing her. She raised her hands to fight, to push him away but the thought left her when his hands ran down her back sensually, no roughness in their wake. Their kiss was sweet, and she was sweet to him.

She tasted of honey, sweet in his mouth. She melted into him, leaning into his chest, her head tilted back as he kissed her, for once allowing herself to bask in his affection, and the pleasure that was quickly rising in the pit of her stomach.

The water sloshed around them as the kiss turned into a frenzy of heated need. Someone moaned but neither of them knew which one of them had made the sound. And then he stood, pulling her up with him and carrying her to his bed.