Page 219 of Bitten & Burned

“Yes, I do,” he stated plainly. “I am a man who has wronged his goddess, and I aim to make it right.”

My heart fluttered when he said that. Even if I knew my worth. And it wasn’t this. “I’m no goddess.”

“Perhaps not, but I can’t think of a better word for what you are to me. You have given me something to believe in. Something to cherish. Something to…” He trailed off, shaking his head. “I’m getting ahead of myself. Trust me, you’re a goddess. And I… have been laying idle hands instead of paying tribute.”

I smiled, sitting back on the pillows. “And, I assume you’ve come to me with a way to right this most egregious wrong?”

“The only way. The best way.”

He moved closer, then he sank to the floor,down on one knee. He folded the other one under him. Until he was kneeling beside my bed.He bowed his head as both knees reached the floor.

His face wasn’t his normal countenance of assurance. In its place was one of pure, unadulterated submission. He reached for my hand, cupping it in both of his, and pressing it to his mouth. He kissed my knuckles softly, then kissed the back of my hand.

“Rowena… I am sorry. I know mere words cannot sponge out what I said to you. How I hurt you. If I could take it back, I would, but that doesn’t mean anything because I cannot. I said the words, and there will never be a time when I didn’t…”

He squeezed my hand in both of his, further bowing his head. I felt the wetness of his tears as they dripped onto my hand.

“Gods, the thought of you going through all of this without me is unbearable. And yet, you did. Because you are strong and I am weak. You are brave, and I am cowardly. I should have pushed my feelings … my pride… aside and come to you. Been there for you. I know my being there wouldn’t have stopped what happened with the others, and I’m fine with that now, I swear it.”

“Oh Vael…” I shifted over, sliding my legs out from under the blanket and over the side of the mattress. He still had my hand, pressing his face to it. I used the other one to rake through his hair with my fingers. My nails scratched against his scalp.

“I’m sorry…” he whispered again, and I felt the tears begin to fall again.

His shoulders began to shake, and I ached to hold him, but, from this position, all I could do was what I already was: allow him to cry and stroke his hair.

“You’re beautiful and good… and I treated you horribly.” He brought my hand to his forehead, sucking in air before sobbing it back out again.

“Vael…”

“You don’t owe me anything, but please let me do this, let me… let me show you how sorry I am…”

Tears pricked at my eyes, and he moved, looking up at mebefore he began kissing each of my fingertips. His lips were warm and wet with his tears, and the kisses were soft.

He was still sobbing, but the breaths were coming easier; he wasn’t hiccupping and he wasn’t gasping for air. He was kissing me: my fingers, my knuckles, my hand, over and over. He rose on his knees slightly, leaning to kiss up my arm as far as he could reach and back down again.

He shifted, his head on my bare knees, kissing there too. Moving to my thighs. His breath changed, and so did mine. It caught as he kissed higher still, and he looked up at me, red-rimmed eyes searching mine.

I felt my hips relax, and my thighs spread slightly.

He pushed between them, kissing up and down my inner thigh.

“Vael…” I whispered, shaking as he kissed higher and higher. He came to the hem of my nightgown, and he looked up at me again for permission. I swallowed thick and gave him the barest nod.

He gently pushed my thighs farther apart. I let him; he slowly rucked up the nightgown over my hips. He moaned softly, seeing that I was bare.

He kissed up my inner thighs, switching back and forth until he was at the crease, his lips pressing softly there before moving to the other side, until, finally, he spread my legs more, revealing me completely to his gaze. I inhaled, holding my breath as I ran my fingers through his hair again.

He nuzzled closer, and I gasped. He rubbed his nose against me. I inhaled as his tongue brushed. Lips next. Every touch was reverent and thorough.

His tongue slid through my folds, tasting me. I spread my thighs farther apart, and he moved in closer, his tongue finding my clit. He must have felt how I shuddered as he flicked it with his tongue, because he moaned deep from inside his chest as he continued to lick into me. To worship me.

He exhaled raggedly against me and seemed to be catalogingmy reactions. When he flattened his tongue over me, it made me tense; when he flicked it, I stilled. And when he swirled it? I arched into him. The more animated I became, the more emboldened he grew.

He doubled down, his tongue flicking against my clit. Holding my thighs apart, he groaned with me when I finally shook apart.

He didn’t stop, though; he merely slowed down, even though every pass of his tongue felt like too much. I slowly tugged on his hair, pulling him back from me. Then I tugged him upward, and he began to kiss his way up my body, his lips trailing along my belly and my breasts, until he had one knee on the mattress in between mine, leaning against me on the bed as he kissed along my jaw.

“Rowena,” he murmured, his eyes impossibly dark as I gazed into them. They were on me, only on me, and, as he licked his lips, his chin glistened with my arousal. I tugged him closer, pressing my lips to his.