Gameboard of the Gods (Age of X #1)(13)
Author: Richelle Mead

“You’re talking like I’m already gone,” she told him at last.

“You will be,” he said.

“But I’m not.”

Mae leaned forward and found him already moving toward her. Their lips met and parted, and with that one kiss alone, she was lost. She couldn’t fix all of his problems any more than he could fix hers, but as she wrapped her arms around him and let him pull her body against his, she hoped that maybe when the night was done, they’d each have a few less problems weighing them down.

CHAPTER 4

EACH OTHER’S UNDOING

She was a dream made flesh, with a body even more exquisite than the fantasies his mind had conjured earlier. Her skin was alabaster and felt like silk, a soft contrast to the strong muscles he could feel when he ran his hand over one of her long, sleek legs. His athlete assessment hadn’t been far off. She was definitely someone who trained her body hard, but it hadn’t been at the cost of sensuality or femininity. She was still slim and lovely, with curves that he couldn’t keep his hands off of, and blue eyes that flirted with green.

Her hair, dry and unbound now, cascaded around her face like some golden veil, and her beauty made his chest hurt—which made it surprising when she turned off the lights in the bedroom. Someone like her was meant to be gazed upon while making love, worshipped even. But he didn’t question it. He was too lost in the taste of her wine-sweet lips, intoxicated by the scent of sweat and apple blossoms.

He entered her slowly, almost reverently, exulting in the way she felt around him. She was so wet, her body soft and yielding. She arched it up against his, murmuring softly in Finnish, as he began to move more forcefully. He lost himself in her, and everything in the world vanished, except an urgency to drive his body into union with hers. Her nails dug into his back, and then, without warning, she pushed up and rolled him over. Her h*ps straddled his, and she rode him into ecstatic oblivion, until at last, he couldn’t hold out against the mounting pleasure. He came with a great cry, finding release in that glorious body. Slowly, they both stilled, staying as they were and holding on to the weight of the moment. She was only a dark silhouette in the doorway’s scanty light as she looked down upon him, but for the space of a heartbeat, he could see her crowned in stars and flowers. It left him breathless for an entirely unexpected set of reasons.

Sated, she shifted off of him and curled up at his side. He wrapped an arm around her, drawing her close as both of them breathed raggedly. They lay like that for a long time, and then he reluctantly disentangled himself to go get the wine. At least it gave him the chance to turn the lights back on and take her all in when he returned. There was a faint sheen of sweat on her brow, and her cheeks were flushed from her own cl**ax. Her disheveled hair spilled over his pillow, and he thought she looked more beautiful now than she had primped and polished for the party. She accepted a glass of wine with trembling hands.

He regarded her fondly for long moments, amazed at how she completely undid him. It wasn’t just the stunning looks either. He’d meant what he said: She reminded him of home. That, and she was a tangle of intriguing contradictions. A castal princess. An avenging Valkyrie. That kind of puzzle was what he lived for, a turn-on in and of itself.

From the long, languid smile she gave Justin, he knew he wasn’t the only one captivated here. They were each other’s undoing. “Why does a devastatingly beautiful woman like you have sex with the lights off?” he asked. “I’ve known women who need to do that. You aren’t one of them.”

“I just like it, that’s all.”

He touched her lips gently with his fingertips and had the satisfaction of seeing her shiver with desire. They’d taken their time, but the night was still young. “You really have walls within walls around you, don’t you?” His fingers moved down her neck and then on to trace the curve of one of her br**sts. “What are you afraid I’ll see with the lights on?”

“Everything,” she said simply.

“You like to be in control,” he guessed. “And you’re afraid for me—or anyone—to see you lose it. To see your emotions unbound. To see your soul.”

Her smile grew. “You believe in souls?”

“I believe the next time we do it, the lights are staying on.”

“You sure have a high opinion of yourself, thinking it’s going to happen again.”

“Well, why not? You didn’t seem to have that bad of a time. Besides, you got anywhere else to be?”

She hesitated. “No. I don’t think so.”

“Then it’s settled.” He rested back against the headboard. “We’ll have a nice wine break, and then—lights on.”

That earned him an outright laugh. “You’ll have to fight me for the lights.”

“Gladly.”

“I don’t think you’d win.”

He set the wineglass on the bedside table and leaned toward her. “Then I’ll tie you up and keep you down.”

She seemed even more amused by that—but also intrigued. Her pupils were dark and dilated with desire. She could do it again right now, he realized. “Hope you tie a good knot.”

“I tie an excellent knot. And then I’ll drag things out as long as I want, do whatever I want. You don’t beg much, do you? But you will…you will, and you’ll love it.” He trailed his lips along her cheek, and his arousal had returned. He was already imagining her face when she came with him inside her. “And all the while, I’ll look at you as much as I want with the lights on—your body, your face when you come…all those emotions you won’t let anyone see…”

Mae’s breath came fast, and the wineglass slipped from her hand, spilling onto the floor. He didn’t care. His lips found hers again, and all that mattered was his burning need to possess her again and—

A soft chiming sound that he barely heard made Mae sit upright and pull away. With more of that remarkable speed, she sprinted from the bed and out the door. She returned moments later, more slowly, looking at something in the palm of her hand. At first, Justin was too transfixed by the sight of her na**d body to notice much else. Then he realized she was holding an ego.

Careful, said Horatio. Dashing Eastern Alliance diplomat Huan Korokov wouldn’t even blink an eye at that.

I know, I know, Justin said.

He wished he could get a better look but knew Horatio was right. Telecommunications were sketchy around here, and it was hard enough getting a good portable phone, let alone anything as sophisticated as an ego. It governed a Gemman’s life. It made calls, provided unlimited access to the stream, managed money, verified identity…. Being without one for four years had been a huge adjustment for Justin. He’d grown up with people and information instantly accessible, and that lack had only increased his feeling of isolation in exile.