17. Verena
CHAPTER 17
VERENA
T he soft morning light filtered through the window, casting a warm glow upon the room. The dust particles floated in the beams, creating a delicate dance as they twirled and swirled in the air.
I ran my fingers through my tangled hair, feeling the dampness of sweat on my skin. The sheet clung to me uncomfortably in the heat of the room, and I attempted to kick it off.
But it wouldn't budge.
A low groan escaped my lips as I attempted to shift my position, only to be met with a firm grip tightening around my waist.
Dacre.
His warm breath tickled the back of my neck as he nuzzled closer. I could feel the steady rise and fall of his chest against my back, a comforting rhythm that matched the beat of my heart.
With each inhale and exhale, he seemed to draw me closer, the heat emanating from his body enveloped me, wrapping me in warmth and desire.
Last night, I had pretended to be asleep once he finally emerged from the bathroom and stumbled back into the cramped bedroom. With only one bed in the room, there was no escape for either of us. And after hearing him groan my name through the closed door as he bathed, I couldn't bring myself to face him.
If I had, I would have begged him to show me what he had been doing, begged him to touch me until this ache that seemed to overtake my body would disappear.
My heart raced as I faced back toward the window. I didn't want to move. I didn't want to wake him.
But heat erupted across my skin, a desperation for him that I couldn't control.
I pressed my back against his chest, and I could feel his erection pressed against my ass. I shouldn't have wanted to stay there. I should have been running as far away from him as I could get.
But I didn't want to.
He had managed to secure me passage onto one of those ships I saw in the harbor. He got us passage, and as much as I wanted to pretend like that didn't matter, it did.
He was planning to leave this kingdom with me, leave the rebellion and Wren.
My chest ached as I thought of her, thought of how badly she would hate me if I took her brother from her, how badly she probably already did.
My mind couldn't fathom the consequences he would face if he were to return to the hidden city. He had chosen me over the rebellion. He turned his back on them the moment he wouldn't give me up, and I could still feel the fear coursing through me as I watched his father try to beat the truth from his lips.
He shifted behind me, his arm tightening against my stomach as his nose brushed against the back of my neck.
Get up, Verena.
Leave him.
But I hesitated.
I hesitated, caught between the pull to disentangle myself from his embrace and the overwhelming desire to stay there forever. My body shifted uneasily, muscles coiled with indecision, but he held fast with a firmness that sent shivers down my spine.
"Let me go," I whispered, my voice still heavy with sleep.
"Not yet." His breath was warm on my skin as he inhaled deeply, savoring the scent. Then, with gentle pressure, he pressed his lips against the nape of my neck. A slow, tender caress. Each movement of his lips seemed to trace every curve and contour of my neck as if he wanted to commit it to memory with each touch.
His hand moved gently on my stomach, his fingers tracing delicate patterns against my skin. My body reacted instinctively, tensing under his touch. I tried to control my breathing, but it quickened in response to the electricity coursing through me.
My legs pressed together in a futile attempt to suppress the growing ache between them, but it only seemed to intensify with each passing moment.
My body was betraying me, responding to his touch despite knowing that I shouldn't.
"I-I need to go," I stuttered, my voice shaking with emotion.
He didn't say anything for a moment, and my heart raced with anticipation.
But then he spoke, his voice soft yet commanding. "Go where, Verena?"
I swallowed hard and didn't dare look back at him. If I did, I feared what I would do.
His fingers were still trailing over my stomach, his touch like a ghost of an embrace, and it made me feral.
I leaned back into him, my body melting against his with an almost imperceptible movement. His presence behind me was palpable, the heat of his skin searing through my clothes. My heart raced as I pressed closer to him and felt the hard length of his arousal against my ass.
A shiver ran down my spine, and I couldn't resist the urge to move, ever so slightly, in search of that delicious friction. And he responded with a deep, primal groan that sent a rush of heat through me.
His teeth grazed against my shoulder and gave me the fuel I needed to press back harder against him.
"Fuck." The word was lost against my skin as his fingers moved to the edge of my undergarments.
He ran one finger beneath, teasing the fabric, teasing me, and I arched into him.
My eyes fluttered shut as he continued his torturous touch, my body responding without hesitation. I couldn't deny the desire coursing through me, the need for his touch overwhelming any rational thought.
His lips trailed down my neck, his breath hot against my skin, and I let out a soft moan. He took that as encouragement, another finger slipping beneath the edge of the fabric and brushing against my hot skin.
My body trembled in response, every nerve on fire.
I let my fingers trail over his, pushing them down more firmly, begging him with my body for what I wanted instead of my words.
But he held firm where he was.
His touch was slow and soft, and it was fucking torture.
I whimpered as I tried to guide his hand lower again, but he didn't allow me to.
"What do you want?" This time there was no softness to his voice. His question was a demand.
One that I had no intention of answering.
I pushed back against him, my body still hungry for his touch, and let out a frustrated groan when he didn't give in. But then his hand moved away completely, leaving me cold and empty.
"Use your words."
I turned around to face him, my eyes flashing with anger and need. "You know what I want, Dacre."
"Then tell me." His hand moved back to my stomach, and I tensed as he slid his fingers back beneath my undergarments. Lower than they had been before but still so far from where I needed them.
I groaned and pushed my body harder against him, grinding against his arousal in search of release.
The comforting warmth of his body pressed against mine was suddenly replaced by the cool, crisp feel of the sheets beneath me. I turned my head to see him shifting behind me, the angles and curves of his silhouette highlighted by the soft rays of sunlight streaming in through the window. With a deep sigh, he slowly rose out of the bed.
"What are you doing?" I asked, my voice trembling, as if afraid to break the spell that had enveloped us moments before.
I watched the muscles in his back tense as he grabbed his shirt and slipped it over his shoulders. He turned to face me as he began buttoning it up, and he was still so incredibly hard. "I need to go back down to the docks and confirm that everything is good for tomorrow."
"After that?" I laughed, the sound bitter and desperate.
"After what, exactly?" He reached for his pants as he watched me, waiting for me to talk.
"You're such an ass." I reached for the sheet as I sat up in the small bed, wrapping it around my chest as if it would protect me.
He leaned forward, his hands pressing into the bed until his face was only inches from mine. "You can call me whatever you want, but the next time I touch you, you're going to be begging me for it."
My traitorous body reacted to his words, but he was wrong.
"That will never happen."
He smirked, and the urge to lean forward and press my mouth to his was overwhelming.
"You've begged for it before." He raised one hand and tucked my hair behind my ear before I slapped it away. "You were so fucking wet when you begged for it then. What do you think I would find now if I had lowered my hand like you wanted me to?"
I pressed my thighs together but didn't answer him. We both knew the answer without me having to speak a word, and that only pissed me off more.
"You don't trust me." He searched my eyes. "I'm only going to touch you when you're sure that you want it, when you're sure that you want me."
He stood, leaving me alone in the bed, a mix of lust and anger still coursing through me. He turned his back to me before sitting down on the bed and pulling his pants up his legs. He was leaving me again, leaving me alone and so damn frustrated, and I refused to let it happen. Even though it was irrational, I refused.
I stood from the bed, dropping the sheet to the floor, as I moved through the room. I grabbed the new clothes from the desk where I had placed them the night before. I gripped the hem of my thin nightshirt before I jerked it over my head and reached for the new shirt he had bought me.
The soft rustle of sheets filled the room as Dacre shifted on the bed behind me. I could feel his intense gaze burning into my back as I quickly dressed, trying to ignore the burning heat that coursed through my body.
"What are you doing?"
"Going to the docks, apparently." I stepped into the pants, so much softer than the leathers I had been wearing.
"No. You're not," Dacre growled, and I heard him stand as I tucked in my shirt.
"If you are, then I am too." I was being irrational, but he had forced me to be this way. I was angry and feeling so damn needy.
And he refused to meet those needs.
"It's not safe for you to leave this room, Verena."
"It's not safe for me in the room either." I turned toward him and crossed my arms. Gods, was he this handsome earlier?
"You're not leaving this room." His voice left no room for argument, but still I argued.
"Don't do that. Don't cage me like him." My words were harsh and bitter, and I regretted them the moment they left my lips.
His eyes narrowed before he stepped forward and grabbed a thin blanket off the back of the chair. He lifted it in his hands, folding it neatly before he lifted it over my head like a shroud, the soft fabric draping over my hair and neck.
"To protect you from the brutal sun." He wrapped the tail end of the blanket over my lower face, obscuring my features. "Like many of the sailors wear."
I nodded even as my hands trembled.
"Verena." He said my name so softly and I looked up at him, desperate for anything he would tell me. "I'll never forgive you if you get caught."
You . Not us.
It was my safety that hung in the balance.
My safety that weighed heavily on his mind as he opened the door and led me from the room.