Blood Memories [Last of Elves book 1] (NaNoWriMo 2014)

Thirty-Seven: Panthera

Panthera

She came to his room that night, locking the door behind her. He was, as usual, standing on the terrace, watching the busy movements of the people in the streets nearby, hurrying to get home before the sun completely set.

“Panthera?”

He made no move to respond to her tentative voice. He had a fair idea of what she wanted.

He knew exactly what he wanted.

Slowly, she came to join him, and he saw that her cloak wasn’t with her. She must have left it in her room.

“Panthera,” she said again. He tilted his head in acknowledgement, continuing to watch the world. The River Sae was dangerously fast this time of the year, filled with the fresh snow melts. He could hear the rumble as it crashed over its banks clearly.

A careful hand rested on his, and he looked at her again. “What?”

Colour bloomed on her cheeks for a moment, and he couldn’t help putting his other hand on her cheek. “I … I want you …” she murmured.

A smile curved his lips, and he kissed her on the cheek briefly. “Are you sure, Naameh? I’m of the dangerous sort.”

She gripped his hand, pinning it to the railing. “I can play with fire,” she said heatedly. “I’m not afraid.”

His smile grew. “Then let me show you what fear is.”

He drew her away from the railing, brushing the curtain aside for her. She made to go to the bed, but he held her back, pinning her against the wall. Her wrists pressed against the stone above her head, and her dark eyes stared into his. Her breath hitched with what could have been fear.

Holding her wrists in one hand, he used the other to nudge aside the neckline of her simple dress. “You say you want me,” he murmured, and bent his head, kissing her just below her collarbone. Again, her breath caught, and he let himself smile. He knew the reactions of an innocent.

He let her wrists go, only to pin her to the wall by his presence. Moving slowly, he drew the sleeves of the dress over her shoulders, leaving it hanging just off her shoulders tantalisingly. She was shivering, her eyes bright.

He tilted her head up, and kissed her again, deepening the kiss until she moaned. He pulled away, and nudged the dress out of the precarious position. It pooled on the ground at her feet, and she stiffened, instinctively going to cover herself.

He caught her wrists before she could, and held them by her side, still pinning her to the wall. Almost tenderly, he brushed his lipsover her collarbone, following the curve of her body. She shuddered underneath his touch, and he placed a hand on her hip.

“Panthera …” she forced out, but he touched his finger to her lips, silencing her.

“Quiet,” he said softly, and gently pulled her away from the wall, leading her to the bed. She sat, watching him with a trace of fear in her eyes. He sought to comfort her, barely, knowing that every movement he made both reassured and terrified her.

He tugged his shirt off, and saw her eyes widen. She reached out for him, her soft fingers fluttering over the scar that ran across his ribs, curving around his back as if to cut him completely in half.

“Did it hurt?”

He chuckled, capturing her hands before she could explore further. “Yes, priestess. Very much.”

Her eyes met his. “How?”

He shook his head, kissing her lightly. “Not now,” he whispered against her mouth, and slowly took her deeper. Her eyes closed, and she seemed to melt against him.