A Storm of Flames and Deceit

56. Branded

Nephele

I expect it's not an easy thing for Eris to sit back and let people rule without his input, but I also expect that he likes letting me be in charge enough not to mind. I had seen his gaze go electric as I defended myself in front of those villagers, as I had made proclamation after proclamation. He liked to let me lead.

But he was perhaps the most politically active consort in the world.

"I had read from Helion's libraries that the tribes of the west built their homes out of clay and soil during the rainy season," he tells me. I think research might be his love language.

"You're really hot with your nose in a book," I tell him, stroking his auburn hair. "It reminds me of when your nose is in other places."

He tosses the book aside so near to immediately that I laugh, not bothering to mark his page, mood instantly engaged. If that's all it takes... "That book was boring anyway," he murmurs, rolling on top of me. I giggle. As if he hadn't been damn near smiling reading that book on the fucking dwellings of coastal creatures.

He lowers his lips onto mine, slipping his glasses off his nose. I whine. "You never keep them on during-"

"That's because we'd break them," he explains, a smirk. "And I only wear them to read. They'd make you blurrier."

"But they're really sexy," I tell him, kissing his jaw. If I had a silver for every time I thought about Eris wearing those glasses and only those glasses... I'd have enough money to be shameless.

He snorts, as if the thought were unbelievable. "You think so?" He smirks when I nod, nudging my nose with his. "How do you want it, Sweetheart?"

"Hot," I answer, tilting my head. "Scalding, even. However I can get you."

"You're sick if you think I'd intentionally burn you," he murmurs, unbuttoning my shirt.

"I am sick," I retort, pouting. "You wouldn't indulge me for it? Even though I'm asking?"

"Stop giving me doe eyes," he scowls.

"This is me asking nicely," I shrug off my shirt. "I don't think you're prepared for what I might do if I went to extremes to get what I want."

He looks over me, my naked body. His eyes are full of simmering conflict as I rake my fingers through his hair. "If I try something," he hedges, meeting my gaze. "I'm going to need you to lie still and be good, understand?"

A smile slips across my lips. "Hands to myself- I got it," I lay back, palms spreading over the sheets as he lowers himself over my body.

He doesn't touch me quite yet, his amber chain grazing my breasts, my back arching into the chill of the medal against my volition. He studies the movement with appreciative eyes, the catch of my breath, before taking a single finger and dragging it down the contours of my torso.

The touch is so warm it shocks me, leading a teasing trail as it tips over my aching breasts. It isn't hot enough to burn, but it's enough to make me sweat, make me whimper. He smiles, studying me like one of his thousand- page novels. "Interesting," he mutters in response, slipping his hand very slowly up my leg, grabbing at my thigh with a hot palm.

I bite onto my lip, trying to keep from crying out. He'd be too proud of himself if he heard such a sound. "You know you can tell me to stop if you change your mind," he reminds me, smug, knowing damn well I'm enjoying this way too much.

"Shut up," I grunt in return. He laughs, lowering the wave of his amusement onto my neck. Then, his hot lips meet my throat, and I can't help but cry out. My hands fumble blindly for him, but he pins them back against the sheets, warm shackles, imprisoning me too my own list and desire.

"I hear on humans that a bite to the neck stays for a few days after in a purple bruise," he murmurs. Yes, fae healed too quickly to show such a mark for longer than an hour. "I wonder if I can mark you like this."

My eyes flutter shut as his hot lips latch onto my throat, his tongue cool in comparison. I scream out loud, my legs locking together as I squirm beneath him. As I beg him not to stop.

The pain...

I suppose it's that sick part in me. The girl who was tortured for centuries. The girl who learned to love the sting of violence, who acquired a taste for it. She loved the burn, even as Eris pulled away softly. He smiles as I writhe under him, needing his body against mine, though I can't seem to break the bind of his wrists. "You like it when I brand you?" He raises a brow, his lips back to normal as he kisses the burn gently. I shiver. "You're mine. I can think of no better way to show it."

"Eris," I whimper, a tear running down my cheek. Pain. Pleasure. The line was much too blurred to tell.

He watches the tear roll, his lips rising over mine until his tongue slips up my cheek, following the line of the tear. My head rolls to the side in my blinding pleasure, my nose tucking into the pillows. His nipping smile spreads as he bites the lobe of my ear. "I've thought about marking you with my fire before," he admits. "Though, I'm not sure if I could handle anymore of those pretty tears. Won't you stop crying for me, Sweetheart?"

I nod helplessly, anything to get him back to kissing me, biting me- doing anything. "Tell me," he murmurs, releasing my hands, only to slide his fingers so delicately up my arms, the touch growing increasingly hotter. "Have you ever thought about marking me with your lightning?"

I shiver, back arching off the mattress. "I- I don't know," I answer. And it's true. I couldn't say for certain anything I've thought of before now, before how badly I want him.

He chuckle, a hand curling fondly around my throat, his thumb gently tracing the mark of his lips. "I know I have," he murmurs, his other hand examining the traces of lightning along my veins, the marks that I can't get to go away no matter what I try. "What I'd do to bear your scars, Nephele. You're so beautiful."

Now, I really am gonna cry. I never thought of my scars as ugly, per say, but I never thought of them to be beautiful. And perhaps they aren't, but Eris thinks they are. And maybe one day... I'll believe it too.

"The most beautiful, driven woman I'll ever meet," he whispers in my ear hotly. My legs curl beneath him. I need his body. "And I intend to fuck you as such."

I garner enough strength to face him, truly face the simmering look in his gaze. "Then get on with it," I challenge.

He tilts his head at my audacity, and I know I'm in for it then. "No," he smirks. "I think I'm going to take my time."