Between Tides Thunder(65)

I bristle. I don’t have time to be outraged, though, because Faramir’s voice grows louder. They must be walking down the hall.

Straight toward me.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

I pad silently down the hallway, head swiveling until I spy a door. I yank it open—a supply closet—and disappear inside.

It’s dim and musty, a thin sliver of light beneath the door barely cutting through the dark. Slowly, my eyes adjust, and I inch deeper into the closet.

I hold my breath, careful not to make a sound. If Faramir catches me, I’ll lose this fragile freedom I’ve carved out, and Zev will never let me out of his sight again.

A beat passes, then another.

Silence.

He’s gone. I’m undetected.

I exhale softly and—

—the door opens.

A large figure enters, broad-shouldered and massive.

My heart stops.

The dark silhouette edges closer.

I loose a relieved breath, tension melting from my stiff shoulders.

I recognize him.

It’s my husband, and he does not look pleased.

“What are you doing in here, wife?” His voice is casual, but the undercurrent of danger swirls around its edges.

He steps closer.

I step back.

“Hiding,” I whisper. I creep backward until I’m pressed flush against the wall. “I saw your brother one hallway over.”

He hums, taking another step closer. The air around him vibrates.

“And where are your guards?”

“You wanted to find me in a dark closet with one of my guards?”

He growls. “You know that’s not what I mean.” He’s right in front of me now, barely an inch between us.

All I can see and smell and sense is him.

He braces his hands against the wall on either side of my head, muscular arms caging me. The air tightens—there’s no escape.

I hate it. I love it. I can’t tidesdamned think.

“I’m waiting for an answer, wife.” His breath skates across my lips.

“I—I saw a chance to be alone. I took it. Everyone wants to be alone sometimes.”

His gray eyes study me, nearly black in the dark.

“Which guards?” he finally asks.

“Don’t punish them,” I protest. “It’s not their fault.”

“Which. Guards.”

“Gregoran and Freynk. But please don’t punish them. I like them.”

“You like them?” he growls, pressing closer. “I’m feeling more and more inclined to eviscerate them.”

My hand finds its way to Zev’s firm chest, splaying over his heart. I don’t say anything, teeth catching my lower lip as I look up at him with wide eyes.

He mutters a curse, his gaze dropping to my mouth.

For a moment, neither of us says a word.

Zev trails a finger across my collarbone, up the line of my neck. He’s breathing hard. So am I.

“Can I kiss you, Mayah?” he whispers.

It’s dangerous how easily he unravels me. How badly I want to lose myself in him.

Just one kiss. Just one taste.

Then I’ll stop.

“Yes—” The word has barely left my mouth when his lips capture mine in a deep, punishing kiss. His mouth claims me with urgency, full lips coaxing mine open. My hands tangle in his soft locks, a loud groan tearing free.

I try to stifle the moans rising in my throat, but he drinks them down greedily—like he wants every gasp, every sound I’m not supposed to make. The harder I try to stay quiet, the louder I become. His tongue plunders my mouth, and Tides drown me, I’m lost in him. Large hands grip the backs of my thighs, hoisting me up until I wrap my legs around his waist.

The stone wall is hard against my back, and my husband is hard everywhere else. I’m utterly consumed by him. He breaks away only to trail hot, open-mouthed kisses down my neck, nudging aside my necklace to dip his tongue in the hollow between my collarbones before kissing his way back to my lips.

I should push him away. I should tell him to stop. Tides, this is dangerous.

But the way he looks at me—like I’m the only thing that’s ever mattered—splits me open, leaving me powerful and fragile all at once.

Nothing about the kiss is gentle—not the sharp clack of his teeth as they knock against mine, not the rough scrape of his stubble against my cheeks and chin, not the bruising grip of his fingers on my thighs.

Instead of drowning in the Tides, I’m drowning in him.

I used to think I had control. But pressed between stone and shadow, with my husband’s hands branding my skin—I realize how weak he makes me.

I grind against him, desperate for more, aching for his touch, I— The door flings open with a loud bang.

Feminine chatter, followed by a sharp, scandalized gasp.

Silence.

Zev breaks the kiss, and I squint against the sudden onslaught of light.

“Come back later,” Zev growls, turning his attention back to me.

I recognize Farzina amongst the servants.

“Wait! Wait,” I call out as embarrassing heat rushes to my face. I push at Zev’s chest, but I may as well have been shoving a brick wall.

My eyes lock with his in a fierce glare. His gaze is dark, swirling with unbridled lust. Reluctantly, he sets me down. My legs wobble, knees nearly buckling, and my husband steadies me with a firm hand around my waist.