Den of Blades and Briars: A dark fairy tale romance (The Broken Kingdoms Book 7)

You have the power to stop me, and I will, should you give the word.

Ihad no words at all, let alone the terrible ones that would stop this maddening spiral into Ari’s touch.

I thought he’d turn me out if he knew I was a shape shifter. I thought he’d think me dangerous like so many others. A blood fae with two forms was often feared. Ravens more than others, as Ari said—we were omens from the gods.

I did not anticipate his mouth claiming my flesh like it was his most favored meal. His tongue did miraculous things. The sort of things I did not realize tongues could do. His palms were gently caressing my naked thighs under the water. His lower half was still fully covered in his soaked trousers, and I think I hated it.

“This will be cold, sweet menace,” he said, a dark look of desire in his eyes.

I let out a muffled kind of shriek when Ari lifted me from the water and settled me on the edge of the bath basin. The shock of chill from the flat stone edging shivered up my spine, but I had little time to think of the cooler air against my wet skin.

Ari had his face between my thighs.

My impulse was to push him back, I was so stunned, until his mouth sent me spinning again. He slung my legs over his shoulders and—three hells—I let my head fall back when his kisses speckled my thighs, when his tongue stroked my center.

I reclined onto my elbows on the stone floor, unashamed as he devoured me.

Ari hooked a finger and used the knuckle to swipe over the same places as his tongue. A combination of his mouth and fingers sent my head tumbling in a beautiful fog.

I choked on a sob when the rough callus of his thumb added friction and pressure to my core. I rocked my hips against his face, unable to stop, as sensation built in the lower half of my belly. Like a stream of heat rolled through me. From my toes, through my chest, to my skull. One wave after the other left me locked in a bit of madness I didn’t expect.

I writhed and gasped and tried to mute noises that came involuntarily from my throat.

Before the wave stopped, Ari reared over me and took my mouth with his again. I tasted my passion on his tongue, and it left me wanting more.

When he pulled back, I finally breathed again.

“I . . . I’ve never . . .” I didn’t know what I was saying, but the few simple words brought a smile to Ari’s face.

He pulled himself out of the water, then tugged me to my feet. With his arms around my waist, he backed us toward the door of the bath house.

“Why are you still clothed?” I asked against his lips, my fingers tugging at his belt.

“If you wish it to be different, then you must do something about it.” He kissed me, kicking the bath house door open, as he guided us back into the bedroom. “I promised to have you begging for me. I don’t break my promises and plan to deliver if you wish it.”

I grinned and unlaced the notch in the belt. The bed hit the backs of my knees, and my hands froze.

No. Not here. Not now.

What if I let fears cloud my head until I could not breathe? What if I truly couldn’t breathe? His body was so much stronger, so much broader than mine. He could pin me in place if he wished, and . . . what if Ari lied? No, he told me his tale and . . . he wouldn’t.

Ari’s hands slid down the sides of my arms, he slowed his kisses, and seemed to note the sudden shift. With a gentle nudge, Ari sat me onto the foot of the bed. He cupped my chin with his palm, lifting my eyes to meet his.

“You have been harmed,” he said with a new tenderness.

Muddy memories attacked the beauty of this moment like dark villains, thrashing and stabbing any hope at normalcy, at happiness.

I nodded.

“By a man?”

My eyes closed, clenching until my forehead furrowed. There was more to it. I said nothing, but I didn’t need to.

Ari’s thumb brushed across my cheek. “Does he still live?”

I didn’t know how to explain it. “I don’t know.”

“If I find that he does,” he snarled. “I plan to cut off his hands for hurting you.”

I looked at him then, but he backed away. My heart sank in my chest. A soft moment, one that had the power to heal brokenness from long ago, and I could not escape my own panic to allow it.

Ari rummaged through his satchel, and when he removed a thin, silk-spun rope, my blood turned to ice.

No. No. He wouldn’t.

“Ari, please.”

“Saga.” He cupped one side of my face again. Then, I realized he was looping one end of the rope around his wrist. “This is not for you. If we continue, which—gods—I hope we do, then these hands do nothing unless you say.” With a tug, the rope tightened in a swish around his wrist. “You are the master here.”

Ari rounded to one side of the bed, then threaded the end of the rope around the bedpost. He gave me a shy sort of grin. “You’ll need to help me with the other one.”

He was utterly serious. My heart thudded painfully in my chest. I feared it might burst into a heap of blood and gore. I could not begrudge the time spent in disdain or disinterest with Ari. It was as if every sneer, every roll of the eyes, had become part of an elaborate story that led us to this moment. A moment where my heart was filled to the brink of destruction with pure affection for this man.

I crept over the soft bed, hands shaking, and tied his other wrist. The more the idea of this settled in my mind, the more I loved it. To take one fear of cruel hands away, even if my heart didn’t think Ari capable of it, chased off a bit of the panic-riddled storm in my head.

Heat filled my cheeks as I leveraged one leg on either side of his hips, straddling him.

“You’re stunning,” he said, burying his face in the soft crook of my neck.

I felt him shift under me, his length straining against his wet trousers. Twice now he’d knocked my footing out from under me, and twice I’d had the insatiable desire to do the same. I swallowed, then let my fingertips slide down the sharp planes of his chest.

I followed the touch with my lips, kissing the long, jagged scar that held such tragedy. Ari closed his eyes. His fists clenched, the tug making the rope grow taut, as if not touching me had become an impossible feat.

I grinned a little viciously, lifting my gaze to catch his before my hands slid to his trousers. The belt was already undone, but I unthreaded the laces, then tugged on the waist. Ari lifted his hips, giving me room to remove them. We laughed when the damp fabric clung to his legs and it took more effort, hardly passionate or romantic, before I finally finagled them off his feet.

“Three hells,” I whispered. His body was all sharp edges and divots and scars from battle.

Ari chuckled. “I am at your mercy. You could run me through for all the irritating things I’ve done over the turns.”

“Tempting not many weeks ago.” A smile crept over my lips. “But now that I’ve seen all of you, I’d rather keep you breathing a little longer.”

I slid my palms back up his legs, my thumbs gliding along his inner thighs. Ari groaned. The rope pulsed against his pull. There was something remarkable about being given the power. A heady strength took hold in my chest, safety, softness, and a lust I planned to embrace until the ambassador wanted to weep the same way he’d left me moments ago.

I met his gaze, then licked my lips.

Ari’s face was flushed. Sweat already coated his brow. He returned a dangerous look. “You are playing with fire, wife.”

“Good.” I licked the underside of his length all the way to the tip.

Ari’s head fell hard enough against the wall, I thought he might’ve hurt his skull, but he didn’t complain. His body went rigid. His heels dug into the bed. The muscles of his upper arms pulsed as he fought against the hold the ropes had on his wrists.

“I barely touched you,” I said.

“I know.” His breaths were heavy. “But I’ve never felt such . . . intensity, and if you do it again, I fear I’ll be embarrassing myself shortly.”

Maybe he was lying to build my confidence. Maybe he had felt the same intensity that was crackling through the room before. I didn’t care. His sweet words were working. I grinned, ignoring his fear, and tasted him. I wrapped my lips around the tip of his length, then drew him in deeper.

A thing I’d never done, but the harsh breaths sliding out of his mouth left me wanting to destroy him in the most passionate, sensual ways.

“Saga.” He groaned, almost painfully. “You will kill me.”

I grinned around his smooth skin and added my hand, stroking in tandem with my mouth. He shuddered, and I considered the way his body clenched, I might end up killing him.

I didn’t know how long to continue, and once Ari was panting in short, jerky breaths, I kissed my way back up his stomach, his chest, leveraging my body over his until I straddled his hips again. Heat pooled between my legs. I wanted him; I wanted him to fill me. But I wanted more.

Slowly, I reached for one of the knots of the ropes.

“Saga,” Ari said, breathless. “Not until you’re—”

“I’m ready,” I whispered. “I . . . I want your hands on me.”

The rope dropped from one wrist.

“Thank the gods,” he said, and had his fingers digging into the flesh of my hips in the next instant.

I untied his other wrist, and Ari dragged his fingers through my wild hair. I lifted onto my knees and aligned him with my entrance, then slid over his length. Ari dropped his forehead to my shoulder. He bit down softly into my skin.

I could hardly catch a breath. Wrapped in his arms, chest to chest, his thickness stretching me, I’d never felt so beautifully free.

For a moment we were still.

Ari spoke true—there was an undeniable power in this room, heady, almost like the sweet taste of it danced on my tongue. I did not know if all lovers felt this way the first time they were together, but it was something new to me.

I stroked his stubbled cheek gingerly and started to rock against him. Ari met my movements with deep, slow thrusts. I hooked an arm around his neck, then took one of his hands off my hips and placed his palm over a breast.

Our mouths hovered close together, open and gasping, but we didn’t kiss. We rested our foreheads together and fed off each other’s breath.

Ari still gave me control, still gave me power, but answered each of my silent demands, each slow placement of his hands, in ways that left me weak.

Our pace grew frenzied. I never looked away from his dark, amber eyes as he pounded into me, drawing me to a furious haze. The heat wave slid between us. My stomach turned to sweet knots. My brow furrowed when warmth gathered in my head in a tangle of pleasure. Then, I spilled over the edge.

A cry scraped out of my throat.

Ari kissed me, not smothering my sound, more like he wanted to be part of it. He pulled back after a moment and hissed my name over and over, grinding his hips deeper until no space was left between us. All at once, he stilled. His body froze like a stone, clinging to me. A jolt loosened his grip, and a deep, throaty moan heated my neck through his release.

When it ended, Ari slowly lifted his head. Bright glass coated his eyes. No doubt, something similar soaked mine.

Words danced on my tongue. Dangerous words.

Almost as if he understood, Ari kissed my forehead, then untangled our limbs and bodies. He took a clean linen from one of the drawers, dipped it in the cool water in the wash basin, and pressed it between my legs so tenderly tears sprang to my eyes.

When he finished, he kissed me and somehow maneuvered us so I was lying in front of him without breaking the kiss until his longer form curled behind me at my back. Lazily, he played with my hair, pressing gentle kisses to my neck.

I smiled, hugging his arm around my front. I kissed his knuckles.

What I would tell him if I did not fear the voices in the shadows would come and wrench him away from me.

I love you, you beautiful bastard.