Heir of Deception

Chapter 41

Della was impressed by her own reflexes, and how quickly she was able to brace for the fall, Fenrys however, was faster. He adeptly whipped them around so that he cushioned her fall with his body. Della would probably be more impressed if even one part of her desperate plan had worked. First she the room still contained the scent of her arousal, secondly the book and flown out from her arms and now naturally landed face up for Fenrys to see and worst of all there was even less space between her and Fenrys than when she was trapped between him and the door.

"Della!" Surprise and amusement laced his voice. "What was that!"

She moved to lift herself off him but he pinned her to him, "no tell me." He said not letting her go. Then his eyes widened ever so slightly, his eyes flitted to the book beside them then back to her. A different, smugger smile spreading across his face.

"I take it you're enjoying the book." His voice low, taking on a hoarseness absent moments before, still amused. Della attempted to wiggle out of his arms, desperate to escape. She tried a move Aelin had shown her just the month before, trying to break his hold on her. Fenrys was more skilled between the two of them. He granted her momentary escape but used her own momentum to flip her once again. She found herself again pinned between yet another wood surface and him. Always him.

"What part are you at?" He asked. Della only huffed in response, "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Is it the carriage ride?" He prodded, "that was always my favorite scene." How he was able to admit such things with out resembling a tomato was beyond her.

"I still don't know what you're talking about," she said again. It was true, she was not at that part.

"Then before it? The scene at the dinner table?" Della worked to keep all tells off her face but was clearly unsuccessful given his knowing grin. "That is an exciting part." He was so close to her, they were sharing the same breath. She could see that his eyes weren't truly onyx but instead a deep brown. Her eyes drifted down his face to the twin scars then to his full lips. She'd thought of them many times, couldn't get them out of her head, she looked back up at his eyes but he was looking at her lips, only briefly before returning her eye contact.

For all the speed she knew he was capable of he moved painfully slowly as he closed the small distance between their mouths. Her eyes fluttered close and she focused all her attention to her mouth, his mouth, how his mouth felt on her mouth. His lips were soft, only slightly chapped from the cold and the wind. He was gentle and moved carefully, deliberately. The kiss was chaste and slow and already he was pulling away.

Why is he pulling away? Della thought to herself. He drew back and insecurity boiled over inside her. What had she done wrong?

"Della, I didn't - this isn't..." Fenrys trailed off.

Putting her thoughts to words, "did I do something wrong?" She asked, horrified of the answer.

"What? No of course not!" He gestured to how they were positioned, " I don't want you to feel as though I am forcing you."

Oh, ever chivalrous. Of course Fenrys would take into account how they were positioned, how she may feel she was unable to escape, but now that he'd kissed her she didn't want to. She didn't want to ever stop, she wanted more. A rare confidence swept over her. She flattened one of her feet on the ground and pushed, he allowed her to flip them for a third time. Della lowered her lips to his, running her fingers through his hair and pulled just slightly forcing him to give her a better angle as she kissed him. He matched her, any trepidation gone, his hand came to her hips pulling her closer to him. His tongue licked at the seam of her mouth begging for entrance which she happily gave.

The scent that Della had so pathetically sought to hide returned with a vengeance, Fenrys's own male scent twining with hers and filling the room.

Everywhere he touched came alive. She'd heard the saying before and always felt it was simply exaggeration, she now knew it wasn't.

Awareness buzzed through her aware of every point of context between the two of them. He felt so good, he tasted so good. For so long she had wanted this, been desperate for and now that she had him it was all she could do to keep herself from devouring him.

She ran her hands all the places her eyes had gone before. All the places she'd longed to touch. Della released her grip in his hair and trailed her finger tips down the back of his neck and across his shoulders. She felt each dimple and ridge of them through the material of his shirt. Moving her hands lower she felt he muscled chest and stomach. She savored the way that Fenrys felt beneath her hands, the firmness of him that she'd only gotten in snippets now hers to explore.

His mouth still moved against hers with warm open mouthed kisses that Della was sure she could never get enough of.  His hands were still firmly planted on her hips as if he was afraid to move them.

Finally her hands reached the bottom of his shirt, the waistband of his trousers, a cross roads. He trembled beneath her. Deciding that he had earned a bit of  teasing Della moved her hand under his shirt and travelled back upwards.

His skin burned under her fingers. Fenrys was panting now, she could feel the rapid rise and fall of his chest and she worked his shirt up his body.  Revealing more and more of him to her. For someone with so much experience he seemed such putty in her hands.  He released his grip on her waist as she pulled his shirt over his shoulders and face. 

Della met his eyes as she slipped his shirt from his arms. His skin was flushed his hair disheveled Fenrys seemed wound up, eager for more and only through rigid self discipline did he force himself to follow her pace.

She trailed her eyes down him, shamelessly admiring his body, how his muscles flexed with each breath her took. The goose flesh dotting his skin, doubtful from the cold given how warm he was.  Her eyes flicked back to his. He was staring at her with the same intensity she was at him.

Della was at a loss for words and for once Fenrys seemed the same.

What was the next step? Della wanted more but that seemed a little rushed. Given Fenrys's clenched fists he seemed also reluctant to make a decision. So they sat there, while the silence was charged it wasn't awkward.
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