Hundreds (Dollar #3)

His lips were so close. My healed tongue twinged slightly. I withdrew to test him and myself. To see if he would stand by and let me decide, after all.

A breathless grunt escaped him as if I’d punched him in the chest not just swayed back a fraction. But he didn’t press or demand. He stayed the perfect statue; a gentleman crushed beneath desire.

Desire for me.

Desire I finally recognised was different to the desire Alrik had. Evil didn’t taint Elder’s desire. It was pure and full of emotional connection as well as physical. Emotions we hadn’t permitted but had morphed from nothing regardless.

I swooped up and pressed my mouth to his.

His grunt turned into a ragged groan.

His lips were gentle and soft, unparted and waiting for instruction. Unlike before when he’d given me no choice, this time there was no contact apart from our lips.

We both understood who was in charge, and by giving me control, it didn’t make him submissive. If anything, it made him more dominant. More powerful for giving me jurisdiction over him.

Our lips pressed together innocently. But my God, they connected us so deeply.

I opened slightly, inviting.

He stiffened. His breath fluttering on my cheek from his rapid exhale.

I licked him with the tip of my tongue. The tongue he’d healed and killed for.

The railing shuddered behind me where he clutched it tight, taking his pent-up aggression out on his yacht rather than me.

The simmering passion hidden just barely beneath his self-control let me share the kiss, direct the kiss. Placing my hand over his heart, I tilted my head and opened to him.

He understood my permission.

He took utmost advantage.

His lips pressed harder, his tongue licking into my mouth.

Sensuality had nothing on him. Elder was the dictionary definition of sensual from the way his muscles clenched in need, his nostrils flared in want, and his lust wound tightly in constraint.

He kissed me hard and deep but with respect and affection, too. His taste and spicy flavour sent my head swimming as choppy as the ocean from our propellers.

A drench of attraction and nerves activated every sense until I sparkled and crackled inside.

Whatever previous kisses he’d bestowed were no longer relevant. Whatever touch or activity we’d partaken in didn’t matter.

This kiss was everything.

It was truth.

It was honesty.

It was terrifying.

He kissed me with nothing barred. He dropped a disguise, letting me taste what he’d never say.

He was violence as well as tenderness.

He was obsession as well as rationality.

“Fuck, Pim.” His hands unlocked from the railing and cupped my cheeks. His fingers long enough to tuck around my nape and hold me firm. The kiss grew deeper, his tongue fighting mine as our teeth clacked with a rabid sort of desire that wasn’t entirely human.

I didn’t understand how I could have such need for him, when only yesterday, I’d bawled in his arms the moment he’d entered me. How could I go from timid and disgusted by sex to suddenly wet and oh so heavy?

Everything was heavy—my breasts, between my legs, my mind. I weighed more than the world combined, but in his arms, I trusted he could hold that weight regardless of how I drowned under it.

I arched my back, rubbing myself against him. Needing friction, needing contact. Going against everything I ever held fundamental.

I woke him out of whatever trance he was under.

Ripping his mouth from mine, Elder stepped backward, dragging his hands over his face. “Shit, I didn’t mean to do that.”

I raised a trembling finger to my bruised and besotted mouth.

It wasn’t you who started it.

He frowned a little, his lips tightening. “Wait…I wasn’t the one who started that.”

I allowed old habits to answer for me. I narrowed my eyes, giving him every reply he needed to hear.

I kissed you because you gave me the choice.

He drew up his shoulders, questions etching his gaze. “Why? Why did you kiss me after what I did to you yesterday?” He shook his head as if he couldn’t believe I’d choose to do such a thing. “How can you kiss me after I did the worst thing I could possibly do?”

I moved from the railing, my hand stretching forward to take his. I shivered as our fingertips connected, slowly evolving into a hand grip as seconds ticked past.

I swallowed, preparing, testing. “I-I’m the one who’s sorry.”

He stiffened even as his eyes darkened hearing my voice. Such a rare commodity and one he’d demanded for so long. “What?” The word came out hissing and stinging with venom. “You’re apologising to me? What the fuck, Pim?”

His fingers tried to untangle from mine, craving distance to either prevent lashing out or showing his disgust for me shouldering some of the blame. “You don’t get to apologise. There’s nothing for you to apologise for. Got it?”

I didn’t let his hand go, dragging my courage to talk from touching him. Somehow, I was no longer afraid of sharing affection even if it was as simple as linked fingers. “I was wrong to ask—”

He tore his hand away, jamming it deep into his jeans’ pocket. “No, you weren’t.” He paced in front of me. “You were right to ask. I’d want to know the same damn thing. Shit, I’d like to know where anyone was two years ago. Where were the police? Your family? Friends? Why wasn’t anyone there to fight for you?”

I flinched, refusing to let old memories creep in even as they hammered on the door garrisoning my mind.

He stopped pacing, moving toward me to place both hands on my hips.

I gasped at the weight and heat but didn’t flush with fear. He watched me carefully, trying to assess how far he could push. “You were right to ask, and I wish I had a better answer for you. I wish I could change the past and make it so you were never taken. But, Pim…” His voice lowered with husky sincerity. “If I had been there. If I’d been in the same room as you and seen you stand in front of those bastards with a price tag on your head, I wouldn’t have stood by and watch you be sold. I would’ve fucking won you, do you hear me? Whatever drew us together at Alrik’s would’ve drawn me to you then.”

Tears swelled, tipped, and ran unbidden down my cheeks. It was so wrong to be romanced at the thought of another man buying me. But that was the difference with Elder. His ownership wasn’t about kicking me to an acceptable level beneath him. His care was all about raising me to be his equal because there I was strong enough to give him what he ultimately wanted.

I’m beginning to understand you, Elder Prest.