Page 16

Chapter 16

AIRLIE

W e lay like this for what feels like an eternity.

Ezekiel.

His strong arms are wrapped around me, and it’s like they belong here. I can’t remember a time I’ve ever felt this kind of peace, and now that he’s here, and I know what it feels like to be in his arms, I don’t ever want to give it up.

We may have fallen asleep at some point because my back is pressed up against his hard body, his bicep beneath my head as a pillow. His other hand rests on my exposed hip, pinning me against him.

He must realize I’m awake because his fingers slowly trace featherlight circles on my hip, but I feel his touch everywhere. His warm breath fans my neck, and goosebumps pepper my skin in response. His hand slides up from my hip to my ribs, leaving a trail of heat behind him. My dress is a pointless barrier between us because it’s bunched up beneath my breasts, exposing my scars to him.

I ignore the urge to cover my body, remembering he, too, has scars. Where some of mine are a mix of pink and purple, his are different shades of silver and blue.

We shouldn’t be doing this.

Father would be furious if he saw us this way.

That thought only makes this all the more exciting.

I realize how strange that is.

When Father touches me, he leaves me cold and empty.

Defective.

And I’m forced to live with his torment curling around my mind like incense smoke, wrapping me in his rancid scent, until there’s nothing left of me but the stain on my soul from his games.

Ezekiel’s touches are warm and gentle.

New.

Yet nothing about this feels foreign.

They’re kind yet menacing. Thoughtful, but I can sense his greed as he smooths his large hand across my stomach, then up to trace the skin beneath my right breast. My blood ignites, a rush of heat flooding through my veins, and my body quivers in his grasp, but it has nothing to do with the chill in the air.

His cold chains brush against my skin, but they are an afterthought as my body willingly melts into his. I sink back into him, wiggling my bottom against his hardness.

He must like it because he squeezes me into him more, groaning something inaudible in my ear, sending a wave of goosebumps across my skin.

The ocean crashes against the rocks, their thunderous roar melding in with the howling winds as it sweeps through the cave’s hollow, though it doesn’t drown out the sound of my heartbeat, thumping loud in my ears.

“I have waited my whole life for you, Airlie,” my name on his lips is like a song composed by God Himself.

No, not God.

Someone not from this world.

Someone pure and magical, and I don't ever want him to stop singing it to me.

“Tell me you want this,” he moans desperately in my ear.

His hold on me is tighter now, though he doesn't hurt me.

I do want this.

Ezekiel’s touches are different.

Sacred.

Pure.

Should I want him to stop?

Is it bad that I don’t want him to?

I'm not sure I care if it is.

“I need your words, Little Siren,” he demands, leaving a trail of warmth along my neck, the hair on his face prickling my skin.

“I want this,” I almost beg. My chest rises and falls, each breath shallow, mirroring his. “Ezekiel, I-” my voice cuts off, his commanding presence blurring my every thought.

“Say it again,” he asks. The words come out low and teasing, and I can tell he’s smiling, even though I can’t see his face.

“ Ezekiel .”

“Whatever happens to me after tonight–” he whispers before rolling away from behind me, his movements slow and tender, and with warm, gentle hands, he guides me to lie on my back. He hovers above me, one hand outstretched above my head, supporting his body, the other caressing my cheek. He gazes down at me. His face is luminous in the moonlight as he runs his fingers through my hair and swipes a strand behind my ear. His knuckles graze across my skin, but he’s careful not to let his chains hurt me.

There is a kindness in his eyes I never thought anyone could possess. Granted, I have only ever seen a handful of people in my life. Still, with how he’s looking down at me, holding me, I feel like I’ve known him forever.

“I would have known what true happiness felt like,” he says, dipping his head and brushing his nose against my ear, breathing in my scent. “I’m going to replace their touches with my own,” he growls, pinning his hips against mine.

His large frame engulfs mine, but I am unafraid.

I feel safe like this with him.

He lifts his head, his eyes narrowing with worry, I think, as he meets my gaze. Before he can do or say anything else, I raise my hand and slowly trace the sharpness of his cheekbone, then the hair that covers his jawline. His eyes bounce between mine, reading me.

He knows I don’t want to talk about them.

What they did to me.

“I could list a thousand reasons why you should stay away from me, Airlie,” he says breathlessly as I lift my hips and brush against his hardness.

“I could list a thousand more reasons why I’m not going to,” is all I get to say before he slams his mouth to mine.

My heart lurches in my chest. My breathing is uncontrollable as he hungrily parts my lips with his tongue. My back digs into the roughness of the ground, but I don’t wince.

I revel in it.

I want him to mark me.

I want to wear the evidence of this sacred moment, tangled in the shadows with him.

At least for as long as I am alive.