But I knew that was a lie. Still, I hoped.
I drew away, my naked flesh pressed against his clothed body. I could not wait to feel him against me, skin to skin. To have him inside me, and yet I could not shake this strange fear that someone might catch us here together. It gripped my heart and threaded along my spine.
“Promise,” I said—begged.
Adrian’s brows knitted together, his hands sliding to my face once more. “Did something happen in my absence?”
Tears pricked my eyes at his question, and to hide them, I kissed him. “No,” I whispered against his mouth and my hands drifted down to pull his sex free from his trousers. As he lifted me into his arms, I spoke. “Just promise me…”
But before I could even finish my sentence, he answered.
“I promise,” he said as his flesh parted mine and he slid inside me.
I gasped and opened my eyes as I was lifted from the water. Adrian’s face hovered over mine. For a moment, I thought I was still in the lake, but the firelight reflected off his face, harsher in this light than it had been beneath the moon.
I had been dreaming.
“You will catch your death,” he said, the notes of his voice rumbling in my chest.
“I was just tired,” I whispered.
I couldn’t stop looking at him and thinking about how different he was in my dream. That Adrian had looked so young, so carefree, so in love. The Adrian who held me now carried his age within his eyes, which were burdened by heartbreak, and I wondered if that was what had made this man a monster.
“You are soaked,” I said.
“Is that your way of asking me to disrobe?”
“It would be warmer,” I replied, and he settled me upon the bed before straightening. My body grew heated under his gaze, my nipples taut. I felt very aware of my own emptiness, of the wetness gathering between my thighs.
Adrian discarded his clothing. His movements were graceful, and as each part of his body became exposed to the light, my hunger grew.
I swallowed thickly. “Thank you for protecting my father,” I said.
“I made a promise,” he said simply.
“Have you always kept your promises?” I asked. I was curious about his response, given my dream.
The last piece of his clothing fell to the ground, and he stood naked beside the bed, meeting my gaze as he answered.
“No.”
His hands sank into the mattress on either side of my face as he straddled my body, leaning to press a soft kiss to my lips. There was an ease and comfortability to his movements, as if we had been lovers for a lifetime.
He drew back and spoke, low and rough. “But for you, I will do anything.”
It was the second time he had spoken like this tonight.
My brows drew together as I studied him. The crown of his cock touched my stomach, and the feel of him cradled between our bodies made me feel hollow inside. I was restless, and as much as I wanted to draw him inside me then, I resisted. “But I am your enemy.”
His white-blue eyes were shadowed as he searched my face, fingers brushing a few strands of hair from my cheek.
“You were never my enemy,” he replied and pressed his lips to mine. My breath caught in my throat, and I sighed into his mouth as I opened for him, my legs rising to frame his body. My fingers dug into his back so that his hard chest was pressed into mine, and when his tongue slipped past my lips, tangling with my own, I arched into him. There was a spice to the sweetness of his mouth that told me he had drunk wine tonight. I usually did not enjoy the taste, but this I wanted to siphon. His strokes were slow, savoring, even as he left to kiss my jaw, my neck, and between my breasts. He settled back on his heels and pressed a kiss to the inside of my knee, another higher up, another against my hip, and I let my breath out in a rush, my fingers twining into the sheets. It was sheer anticipation, and he let it build as he riddled my skin with kisses.
I twisted beneath him, desperate to feel the release that would come with his mouth on my swollen clit and his fingers deep inside me. Instead, his hands came down upon my legs, pressing my knees into the bed. The open air teased my heat, and I felt manic and frustrated as he lingered there, so close to my center.
Then his eyes fell to the nest of curls at the apex of my thighs.
“So fucking beautiful,” he said, and he dipped his head to lick my clit. My head rolled back as he caressed it again before dipping into my slick heat.
“Yes,” I breathed, and Adrian chuckled, increasing the pressure of his tongue. When he added his fingers, I vaulted off the bed, my shoulders pressed into the mattress, my hips surging forward into his thrusting fingers. Adrian moaned at my reaction, and his mouth closed over my sensitive nerves, sucking and teasing until the sounds coming out of my mouth were no longer within my control. I had given myself over to him, a weapon to be wielded. He kept pressure on me, kept driving inside, building me up and up and up, and I climbed with him, my insides humming and twining, my muscles clenching and knotting, and when the release hit, I screamed with the rush of it. It was like he had fed off my essence, but somehow, I was better for it. Brighter.