dance with me and stop acting like you wish you could melt into the floor.”
She looked stricken. “We’re really going to dance?”
“That’s why we practiced, darling.” He extended his hand and she looked at him like he was offering her forbidden fruit. He felt like he was. Like he was on the verge of bringing her into something he had no right to drag her in to.
But it was too late. She was here. In front of hundreds of people, his ring glittering on her finger, tomorrow’s headlines being created right now, in the moment.
He didn’t deserve to use her like this. To have her as a buffer between himself and the unflattering headlines about his past behavior. But he didn’t see another choice.
Delicate fingers wrapped around his and she allowed him to lead her to the dance floor. He pulled her to him, much more gently than he’d done in her room.
“Relax,” he said, his lips near her ear.
He breathed in deep, and her scent teased him. It wasn’t false, or floral. It was the wind. The sea. The grass. Skin. It was Kyonos. It made his stomach tighten, opened up a well of longing, a strange sense of need and homesickness that washed over him like a wave.
This desire for her came from somewhere deep. It didn’t come from looking at her, or even from touching her, it was her very presence. It seemed to be some part of her, some part deep inside, connecting with something in him.
Perhaps it was shared pain meeting a shared goal. Or maybe it was nothing more complex than a bout of celibacy that had gone on for too many months. Either way, it was beginning to feel too strong to fight. He was wondering if there was a reason to bother, anyway.
She was going to be his wife after all.
Not that she had any idea of what that truly meant. Of who he truly was.
“Everyone is staring, aren’t they?” she asked.
“Have you ever worn makeup? Since your attack?”
She frowned. “Once. I tried it once. Not very long after my last surgery. It didn’t really help I... But I thought tonight I should wear some because I needed to dress up and...”
“You look lovely. And I do mean that.”
“They did a better job covering the damage than I ever managed to do.”
“That isn’t the only reason.”
“Let’s not do this mushy, stumbling lying thing now, Xander. You were perfectly honest with me the other day about my looks. So don’t go trying to smooth it all over just because I tried.”
“You are a stubborn woman,” he said. “And I want you.”
“I don’t understand.”
“You don’t understand want? Desire? Do you know what it means to want someone?”
“I...yes. But I don’t need you to lie to me about it.”
“I’m not.” he said, tightening his hold on her, bringing her curves flush against his body. And he let her feel what she was doing to him. He let his cock harden against her and he didn’t bother to suppress his need, his fantasies. He imagined what it would be like to have her bare softness against him, without this damned tux in the way.
What it would be like to make her let go. To make her break out of the little cell she’d locked herself in. The one that meant there was no passion. No desire. Only boring, staid contentment.
He wanted to make her lose herself while he lost himself in her. Because for some reason he felt sure that she was the only one who could make him feel again. The only one who might make a change in him that could last.
The feeling that came with that thought was fleeting, but so intense it nearly buckled his knees. So intense he nearly dragged her from the dance floor and into the nearest dark alcove to make her his without any thought to vows.
But then it cleared. The fire dying down as suddenly as it had flared up.
No, there was no changing him. Not even she could do it. There was no magic to be found on her lips. But there was pleasure. And he was a man who’d spent years consumed by the desire for pleasure.
That was the simple answer to why he
She looked stricken. “We’re really going to dance?”
“That’s why we practiced, darling.” He extended his hand and she looked at him like he was offering her forbidden fruit. He felt like he was. Like he was on the verge of bringing her into something he had no right to drag her in to.
But it was too late. She was here. In front of hundreds of people, his ring glittering on her finger, tomorrow’s headlines being created right now, in the moment.
He didn’t deserve to use her like this. To have her as a buffer between himself and the unflattering headlines about his past behavior. But he didn’t see another choice.
Delicate fingers wrapped around his and she allowed him to lead her to the dance floor. He pulled her to him, much more gently than he’d done in her room.
“Relax,” he said, his lips near her ear.
He breathed in deep, and her scent teased him. It wasn’t false, or floral. It was the wind. The sea. The grass. Skin. It was Kyonos. It made his stomach tighten, opened up a well of longing, a strange sense of need and homesickness that washed over him like a wave.
This desire for her came from somewhere deep. It didn’t come from looking at her, or even from touching her, it was her very presence. It seemed to be some part of her, some part deep inside, connecting with something in him.
Perhaps it was shared pain meeting a shared goal. Or maybe it was nothing more complex than a bout of celibacy that had gone on for too many months. Either way, it was beginning to feel too strong to fight. He was wondering if there was a reason to bother, anyway.
She was going to be his wife after all.
Not that she had any idea of what that truly meant. Of who he truly was.
“Everyone is staring, aren’t they?” she asked.
“Have you ever worn makeup? Since your attack?”
She frowned. “Once. I tried it once. Not very long after my last surgery. It didn’t really help I... But I thought tonight I should wear some because I needed to dress up and...”
“You look lovely. And I do mean that.”
“They did a better job covering the damage than I ever managed to do.”
“That isn’t the only reason.”
“Let’s not do this mushy, stumbling lying thing now, Xander. You were perfectly honest with me the other day about my looks. So don’t go trying to smooth it all over just because I tried.”
“You are a stubborn woman,” he said. “And I want you.”
“I don’t understand.”
“You don’t understand want? Desire? Do you know what it means to want someone?”
“I...yes. But I don’t need you to lie to me about it.”
“I’m not.” he said, tightening his hold on her, bringing her curves flush against his body. And he let her feel what she was doing to him. He let his cock harden against her and he didn’t bother to suppress his need, his fantasies. He imagined what it would be like to have her bare softness against him, without this damned tux in the way.
What it would be like to make her let go. To make her break out of the little cell she’d locked herself in. The one that meant there was no passion. No desire. Only boring, staid contentment.
He wanted to make her lose herself while he lost himself in her. Because for some reason he felt sure that she was the only one who could make him feel again. The only one who might make a change in him that could last.
The feeling that came with that thought was fleeting, but so intense it nearly buckled his knees. So intense he nearly dragged her from the dance floor and into the nearest dark alcove to make her his without any thought to vows.
But then it cleared. The fire dying down as suddenly as it had flared up.
No, there was no changing him. Not even she could do it. There was no magic to be found on her lips. But there was pleasure. And he was a man who’d spent years consumed by the desire for pleasure.
That was the simple answer to why he
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