16. Dacre

CHAPTER 16

DACRE

W ith a quick, anxious glance over my shoulder, I bounded up the stairs, my arms overflowing with an assortment of items. My heart raced as I fumbled in my pocket for the key, the weight of it cool and steady against my fingers.

I pressed my ear to the door, listening for any sounds as I grasped the cool metal of the key. I couldn't hear anything, and I wondered if Verena was sleeping.

I took a deep breath and inserted the key into the lock, turning it slowly. The door swung open silently, revealing the dimly lit room inside. I stepped in cautiously, closing the door behind me with a soft click.

Verena was nowhere to be found, but the room was thick with a hot, sticky steam that enveloped me like a dense fog. I strained my ears and could just barely make out her soft humming coming from the bathroom, weaving its way through the steam like a melody.

I let out a sigh of relief and made my way over to the bed, setting down the items in my arms. I sank down onto the bed gratefully, the worn fabric softening the ache in my muscles, the ache that still plagued my damn thigh. My eyes were heavy with fatigue as I let the exhaustion seep into my bones.

My father had been prepared to take me back as a prisoner. I was his son, the person he claimed to have trusted most in the world once upon a time, and I had obliterated that trust.

I had killed one of his most trusted men.

For her.

My gaze drifted toward the bathroom, where the door stood slightly ajar. Thin wisps of steam escaped into the room, carrying subtle hints of lavender.

She was still humming, the tune foreign to my ears, but somehow comforting.

From my seat, I could just make out the fogged-up mirror through the door. Despite its haziness, it was impossible to miss her form as she rose from the steaming bath and reached for a towel.

My eyes should have respectfully averted, giving her the privacy she deserved, but I couldn't tear my gaze away.

The moisture from the hot water glistened on her smooth skin, highlighting every curve and contour of her body. Her hair cascaded down her back in dark, wet strands, like a siren beckoning me closer.

Every inch of her was like an intoxicating drug, and I was hopelessly addicted. No matter how much I tried to resist, I couldn't stop myself from devouring every detail I could make out in that tantalizing moment.

She pressed the towel against her chest, soaking up the water there before her eyes met mine in the mirror.

A sudden urge of warmth spread through my body, and my heart thundered in my chest.

My eyes were helplessly drawn to her, and I couldn't look away. But to my surprise, she didn't shy away from my gaze either. Instead, she met my stare head-on, her eyes burning with an intensity that held me captive.

She moved the towel over her body in agonizingly slow motions. My eyes followed the gentle glide of the fabric against her skin, almost as if I were in a trance.

She bent forward, her eyes never leaving mine once, her body glistening with droplets of water as she held the top of the towel against her chest and ran the other end along her legs. The dim light from the bathroom cast shadows on her curves, highlighting every slope and dip of her figure.

My hands clenched tightly at my sides, fighting the urge to invade her space and claim what I had no right to.

My eyes raked over her body, tracing every inch with hungry eyes. My heart clenched at the thought of any injuries marring her body. I longed to run my hands over her skin, to feel its smoothness and search for any signs of harm.

And gods, I wanted to taste her.

My breath hitched as I struggled to maintain my composure. Her stormy gaze held mine, unflinching, as she expertly wrapped the towel around her body, every move calculated and torturous.

As she emerged from the steam-filled bathroom, droplets of water still clung to her skin like jewels. Her hair cascaded in wet waves down her back, and time seemed to slow as I traced my eyes down the subtle arch of her waist.

The air was thick with unspoken apologies and unfulfilled desires. My hands trembled at my sides, aching to reach out and beg for forgiveness, to plead with her.

But I knew she had every reason not to trust me, not to trust anyone. So we stared at one another, our emotions swirling like a tempestuous storm around us, waiting for one of us to break the heavy silence that hung between us.

She hesitated, her eyes filled with doubt as she closed the distance between us. She looked away from me, her gaze falling to my side. "What's all that?" She gestured toward the items I had brought with me.

"For you," I said, my voice catching in my throat as I shifted uncomfortably and adjusted myself in my pants. "I thought you might appreciate a change of clothes. And those rebellion leathers kind of give you away this far south."

Her gaze fell back to me, to my own worn leathers. "And yours won't give you away?"

"I've got things for me as well." I swallowed, worried about how she would handle the next words that fell from my lips. "These leathers would be brutal on the ship."

Her spine stiffened, her entire body tense as she clutched her towel tightly in her hand. "You're coming with me?"

I had struggled to convince the captain to take on just one passenger, let alone two.

I had offered him all the coins I had, and he had accepted half. But it was my mother's dagger that hung at my side that he really wanted.

So, with the last thing I had left of my mother, I secured passage for us both.

"Did you really think I'd put you on a ship alone and watch you sail away from me?" I questioned, instantly regretting my admission.

She bit her lip, her eyes flickering back to the things at my side. "But your people are here. Your rebellion is here," she said, her voice cracking with emotion.

"And yet, you won't be." A sharp pain twisted in my chest, reminding me of the sacrifice that lay ahead for both of us.

She let out a deep, shuddering sigh, her lips trembling as she took a small step back. It felt like an endless expanse, a mile filled with distrust. "When do we leave?" Her voice quivered with both fear and anticipation.

"Two days." I forced out the words, my own distaste for them evident in my tone. It was the quickest I could arrange our escape from the kingdom, but it meant that for two days' time, we would be vulnerable and in danger.

"We're here for two days?" The fear in her eyes mirrored the same gnawing sensation in my gut.

"It's the quickest I could get us out of here," I said quietly.

She nodded, her eyes full of questions. "There's food for you left on the desk."

"Thank you." I nodded and dug my fingers into the thin blanket beneath me. "I think I'm going to bathe first, wash away the days of travel." And try to drown out the wicked thoughts of you.

I let my gaze trail down her body, down her bare thighs. Heat surged through me, a fiery desire that threatened to consume me.

She was right in front of me, so close that I could reach out and touch her, but I couldn't.

I wanted to grab her wrist and pull her closer, to beg her forgiveness with my tongue against her skin.

Everything about what we were doing was a risk. Leaving this kingdom, praying to the gods that the one we traveled to would be better, praying that her father nor mine would catch us before the sea took us away.

She was a risk.

One that I shouldn't have been willing to take, but trying to fight it was futile.

My want for her was obsessive, incessant. Maddening.

She had betrayed me, lied to me, and yet, I couldn't sit there and look at those wounds forever when looking up at her made me want to hide them beneath a bandage as if they never existed at all.

The wounds we caused one another were raw and pulsing, aching with the pain of our betrayals, but as I sat in front of her, I was consumed by both peace and fire.

I sprang up from the bed as if it were aflame, my heart pounding in my chest. Verena's sharp blue eyes locked onto mine, her expression a mix of surprise and something more. The room seemed to shrink around us as the tension between us rose, crackling like fire in the air.

"Excuse me." I took a step forward, a step toward her, but she didn't move.

She was blocking my path to the bathroom, caging me in until I had nowhere to look but at her.

Our bodies were so close, I could feel the heat radiating from her skin. Every fiber in my being yearned to reach out and pull her closer. My throat felt as though it were on fire, burning with the desire to share every racing thought that plagued my mind.

But as she looked up at me, her eyes wide and vulnerable, her bottom lip trembling slightly, I couldn't find the words to express the storm inside me.

"Please." She broke the silence with a quiet exhale and took the smallest step to the side, creating just enough room for me to squeeze past her. The air felt thick and heavy, like molasses, as I carefully maneuvered around her, our bodies brushing with the lightest touch.

"Dacre." My name was a gentle plea, a whisper I could hardly hear over my raging heartbeat.

I hesitated, feeling the warmth of her body barely brushing against mine. Her gaze flickered down to my lips, her knuckles turning white from the force of her grip on her towel.

Her breath hitched, and there was so much longing on her face. It was easy to see her desire, but it was also impossible to miss her fear.

"Thank you." She nodded toward the bed. "For that, and for helping me."

Her chest heaved, her breasts rising and falling against my chest, and I leaned in, unable to resist any longer. "Don't thank me." I shook my head. "I don't deserve your thanks."

Verena's expression softened as she gazed back at me. "You may not deserve it, but it's yours."

I swallowed hard, trying not to read too much into her words.

She was mine.

"I'm so sorry, Verena." I reached out for her, but she took a small step back as if startled by my words.

"We don't need to do this." She shook her head.

"Yes. We do," I insisted, my voice low and pleading. "I was so angry, so hurt, and I should have never…"

"Bathe." She cut me off and nodded toward the bathroom, and I could see the rapid fluttering of her pulse in her neck. "We both need sleep."

I clenched my jaw and bit my tongue as I slipped past her, the subtle brush of our bodies feeling like a brand as I made my way toward the small bathroom.

My hands trembled with the urge to reach out for her, to make her look up at me as I told her the things I needed to, pleaded with her for her forgiveness.

I gently closed the door behind me with those same trembling hands, leaving me alone in the cramped room. The air was thick with the smell of lavender, and a small candle flickered by the sink, casting shadows that danced across the walls.

I undressed quickly, forcing myself not to run straight back to the room.

The worn tiles under my feet were cool against my tired skin as I turned on the knob and allowed the water to cascade over me. I leaned forward, my forearm resting on the wall as I leaned into it and tried to relax.

I clamped my eyes closed, but all I could see was her.

She was right outside that door wrapped in a towel, and I let myself picture what she was doing, what she was thinking.

I let myself imagine that she were with me. I imagined my fingers tracing the curve of her waist, the water cascading down her body, her skin soft and warm to the touch.

I dreamed that she didn't push me away, that there was no sign of doubt in her eyes when she looked up at me.

Slowly, the water began to soothe my aching muscles, and I could almost feel the warmth of her skin against mine, the softness of her hair brushing against my face, and the scent of her lingering in the air.

My thoughts raced, and I imagined every angle of her body. My fingers traced lines on my skin, longing to feel her touch, to have her wrap those fingers around me.

My fingers pressed firmly into the cool, smooth tiles of the wall, desperately seeking grounding as my mind wandered to her touch. With my other hand, I traced the curve of my hip, wishing it was her hand instead. The water cascaded down my body in a comforting rhythm, its soothing touch only increasing my longing.

As I stood there, the desire for her grew stronger, and I found myself reaching for my own body, needing to feel her touch, though it was only an illusion. I wrapped my hand around myself, and I was so hard.

My imagination ran wild with thoughts of her touch, her lips, her skin, and I pumped my cock in my hand as my breathing became heavier.

I remembered the small sounds she made when I touched her, when I tasted her. I was haunted by the memory of her whimper when she called out my name as if I were the only thing in the world she had ever wanted.

My thoughts were consumed by her, and I yearned for her touch. I needed to feel her, to be close to her, to be inside her. I could practically feel the tightness of her walls, the wetness of her desire, and the intensity of her passion as I thrust into her.

There was a sound just outside the door, pulling me from my fantasy, but I didn't stop as I turned my head to look. I could see the shadows of her feet where she stood near the door, and I allowed myself to imagine that she leaned back against it as she listened to me try to get myself off with thoughts of her.

I groaned as I squeezed myself harder. The water splashed down my face, trailing over my lips and down my neck.

Was she still in the towel or had she let it fall to the floor?

I envisioned her slowly trailing her fingertips down the curve of her breast before settling between her thighs. With a subtle shift, she parted her legs ever so slightly and her fingers slid in effortlessly, finding her desire for me.

I tightened my fist around my cock as I thrust into it, wanting more and more of her. Every touch, every stroke brought me closer to the edge.

I could feel my release building inside me, and I could almost hear her moans as if she were close too. The image of us together consumed me; our bodies intertwined as we reached the peak of pleasure together.

I quickened my pace, imagining that she was doing the same, our hands moving in sync as we rode out our orgasms.

"Fuck." I squeezed harder and pumped faster as I thought of her watching me.

Verena was mine. She was mine. I didn't care whether she knew it or not.

It was my only thought as I came, my body convulsing with pleasure. "Verena." Her name slipped from my lips, louder than I should have allowed, but I couldn't stop it.

The sound of the water hitting the tiles was the only noise as I tried to catch my breath. I leaned against the wall, and my eyes fluttered shut as I imagined her doing the same.

After a few moments, I straightened up and turned off the water. I reached for the towel on the rack, my hands shaking slightly as I wiped the water from my face. I couldn't stop thinking about her, about the way her skin felt beneath mine.

About the way I wanted to give her the world when I couldn't even offer her safety.

I quickly toweled off and attempted to compose myself, even though I was still aching for her touch, and I looked at the base of the door just as I saw her shadow disappear.