Page 135 of A Bond so Fierce and Fragile

“Let them watch.” Lessia lifted her chin, her eyes sparkling as she dragged a finger along his neckline. “Let them see they can’t break me. Let them see I am not scared anymore. Let them see I won’t bow to them and their fucking curse.”

Fuck. He’d never loved her as much as he did now.

She was a damned goddess.

A goddess who began undressing slowly, seductively, in a way that had his jaw slacken and only allowed him to remain still and watch.

Her tunic dropped first, her perfect breasts reflecting all around him, the nipples drawing in and hardening as he dragged his gaze over them.

After undoing her boots, one at a time, she slowly slid her breeches down until she stood before him only in her silky undergarments, soft skin on full display and head still lifted high, her beautiful golden-brown hair tumbling down her straight back.

The carvings of his name on her body and the traitor mark sweeping across her arm only made her more magnificent.

She was real. She was real and she was here and she was his.

Merrick nearly lost it when he caught the damp spot on the white fabric between her legs.

She was already wet, and he could fucking smell it.

His cock twitched again, more painfully now, but he ignored it, unwilling to speed this up a second more than he had to.

“Is that for me?” he asked roughly.

Lessia smiled as she dragged a hand down her front, squeezing a breast before sliding it down to her stomach and hovering right above the waistline of the delicate piece of clothing.

“Of course it’s for you,” she whispered. “I’m yours, Merrick. I’m always yours.”

He closed his eyes for a moment, committing that sentence to memory.

I’m yours, Merrick.

He fucking loved it when she said his name.

She never did it in fear, like most others, but emphasized each letter, taking care to pronounce it with all the love he could feel rolling off her. Even during the election, she’d pronounced it differently, at least when she’d stopped calling himdeath boy. It hadn’t been with love then, but some kind of mutual respect—one he hadn’t heard in connection with this name since he was young.

“You are mine,” he echoed, his voice rough. “You will always be mine as I will always be yours. As I always have been.”

She smiled wider. “What do you want me to do?”

He must have frowned because she continued. “I told you I’d do anything for you. What would you want me to do?”

Merrick groaned.

He was so fucking lucky. So undeserving of this beautiful, selfless, loving creature.

He promised himself again to give her all the wishes she carved onto his skin. He was going to take care of her—love her—if it was the last fucking thing he did in this realm.

“Come here.” Merrick reached out a hand. “Let me make you feel good.”

He would have died to watch her touch herself, see what she did to make herself utter the noises he dreamed of every night, but he couldn’t ask it.

Not now, not when every bone and nerve and part of his soul craved to protect her—care for her.

She did enough fighting alone. This was his responsibility.

And he’d enjoy every damned second of it.

Lessia slowly approached him, and if his eyes could have, they would have eaten her up. He let them slide over her long legs, over her undergarments where the wet spot had grown, over her hip bones and stomach, savoring her full breasts and then moving to her beautiful face.