Page 40 of The Trials of Ophelia
A fucking disgrace.
No, no, no…
“Tolek!”
So much blood. All my fault.
“Tolek, wake up!”
No, no, no…
Something warm met my cheeks. Was I crying? Fuck, I should be. No, this was soft and firm, and then?—
Lips against mine. Hot and full, coaxing me to meet their rhythm.
I rocked upright, eyes shooting open as I panted. Sweat-stained sheets tangled around me, and two magenta eyes met mine, only inches away. Ophelia’s hands cupped my face. She searched my gaze as we both caught our breath, verifying I was really with her.
“You wouldn’t wake,” she admitted, swallowing.
I rushed forward, taking her lips again. She is here. She is okay. She is here. The sheet fell around my waist, my hands roving over her goosebump-coated arms and silk-clad back, gripping her thighs to pull her closer. Just to be sure.
She is here. She is okay.
I repeated the reassurances to myself as I bent her back until she was flat on the mattress, her legs bending to bracket my hips. My tongue flicked against hers, teasing and tasting and trying to fucking forget the fear I’d been buried in and bury myself in her instead. She tasted like magic laced with temptation, and Angels, could I stay here forever?
Her hands dug greedily into my hair as I explored her neck with my lips, and a small moan slipped up her throat. I dragged my fingers from her ankle, up her calf, and back down her thigh, grabbing on to her waist as my hips ground against hers.
“Wait,” she said softly. Then, a bit more assured, “Tol, stop.”
I shot back.
Ophelia followed me, eyes hesitant. I was silent as she brought one hand to my cheek, brushing my damp hair from my eyes with the other. Then, she laced our fingers and brought the back of my hand to her lips.
For a moment, we sat in the stillness, crickets chirping and waves crashing in the distance. Cypherion had yet to return to our room, so it was only us—my eyes glued to her swollen lips, and Ophelia, waiting for me to speak.
“First kiss,” I finally said, breathless, unable to find other words with the feel of her still everywhere.
“Not technically.” Ophelia smirked. “I think about that bathing chamber a lot. What would have happened…”
Spirits, was she trying to undo me right here before I even got a chance to watch her come, to memorize every sound she made? It would work. Even the thought?—
No. What happened after that bathing chamber had changed everything for both of us. And we needed to work through that.
“Our first should have been better than that,” I said. “It will be.”
Ophelia crawled into my lap, looping her arms around my neck and resting her head on my bare chest.
“I’m sweaty,” I reminded her, my voice still raw.
“I’ve held you bruised and bloodied, Vincienzo.” I flinched at her choice of words, but didn’t say anything. She didn’t know what the nightmares held; to her it was only a figure of speech. “I can handle sweat.”
As if to prove it, she placed a kiss to my chest, right over my heart. When her eyes flashed up to me from beneath dark lashes, I wasn’t sure if they were heated or if it was a trick of the moonlight. Either way, all my blood flooded south.
This was why we couldn’t share a room. Every look she gave me was a temptation. I couldn’t wait for those nights, but I wouldn’t push. I adjusted her on my lap so she didn’t think I was trying to take this somewhere she wasn’t ready for.
“I don’t mind being woken up that way.”
Ophelia blinked up at me, not giving into my joke. “They’re getting worse.”
