Curse of Stolen Flame (Firebird, #1)

CHAPTER 45

“What did he say to you?” Jasper demanded as soon as Cerulle shut the door behind her, leaving the two of them alone for the night. The Windspinner had made quick work unlacing Kindra out of her gown, placing Scalya’s diadem in a velvet-lined box and taking it with her when she left. Now, her hair down and her face washed of all cosmetics, Kindra sat on her bed and recounted her dance with the king.

Jasper paced in front of her while she talked. When she finished, he came to sit next to her. He ran his hands through his hair.

“I didn’t want to tell you. About the diadem,” he said finally. “I just—I knew it would freak you out—”

Kindra bristled. “I could have handled it,” she retorted.

“You were white as a ghost after you finished dancing with him,” Jasper shot back, though not unkindly. “And you were already nervous about the ball. I didn’t want to make it worse—”

“You don’t get to make those decisions for me,” she snapped. It wasn’t quite anger she felt. It was more alarm than anything that he now knew her well enough to pick up on her tells. She hadn’t told him she’d been nervous for the ball, but she had been, and he’d known, and he been considerate of it when deciding what to tell her.

It was moments like these where she felt her walls fighting to go back up, when she couldn’t hide from the fact that they were more than two people who simply were attracted to one another. It had been more than that, so much more, for a long time. She knew that was why she resorted to bristling and snapping in that moment, and she hated herself for it .

“If you had asked about the diadem, I would have told you,” he said firmly, capturing her glare with his own and holding it. “But you didn’t ask, so I decided to not say anything until you did. If you did at all.”

Kindra glowered for a moment longer, then sighed. “Okay,” she relented, and Jasper visibly relaxed. Then she asked, “Could you really tell I was nervous?”

He laughed quietly, wrapping his arm around her and pulling her closer to him. They leaned back against the pillows. “You always feel hotter when you’re nervous,” he told her. “Or angry or scared. It’s like your magic is coiling right under your skin, ready to spring out and protect you. The last couple days, when I’d touch you… you were burning up. Like a fever.” He smiled down at her. “Plus, you’re so much quicker to snap at me when you’ve got something worrying you.”

She sighed again. “I suppose I’ll always be burning up now,” she mused grimly. She looked up at him. “He’s afraid of me, Jasper. Just a little bit, but…” She trailed off.

“He thinks you’re God-blessed,” Jasper said bluntly, and Kindra shuddered. But it was the truth, though the king himself might never say it. What he’d said tonight, about her eyes… Whether he’d intended to reveal what he believed or not, she wasn’t sure, but he’d revealed it all the same.

“I’m not God-blessed. Scaldor has never appeared before me. Cyrie hasn’t either.”

“You know,” Jasper mused, “We have some of Scalya’s journals. You could read them. They’re in the restricted section behind lock and key, but you’d be able to get access. Especially now that you’ve been seen wearing her crown. They would likely hold her first-hand accounts of her experiences with Scaldor.”

She mulled it over. “Do I even want to know?” she murmured, thinking aloud.

He gave her a knowing look. “Of course you do.”

Kindra rolled her eyes. “You pick up on too much.” But he was right—she was curious.

“I just pay attention, that’s all.” His voice had gone soft. “I enjoy watching you. Learning you.”

“Learning me?” She scoffed, face heating. She didn’t dare look up at him. She knew he’d have that look on his face—the one he got these days when she could tell he was fighting to hold back those three little words.

“Yes, learning you. Is that not what love is?” His breath hitched.

She stiffened, just a bit. “I suppose,” she replied, trying and failing to make her voice light.

Danger! The voice in her head screamed. Danger, danger, danger!

But why? Why did she still freeze whenever he brought it up—the love between them? Why did she prickle and snap when he showed how well he knew her, how much attention he paid her every move? She was no fool; she knew what this was, what this had been for a while now.

It should be easy to hear it from this man, to say it back to him. He was to be her husband. He had proven, again and again, how he cared for her. He listened to her—he had learned her, yes, to put it in his own words. And yet—

“Kindra,” Jasper breathed.

“Don’t,” she gasped. “Don’t say it.” Shame, cold and heavy, quaked through her.

He pulled away from her, and she dared a glance up at his face. Hurt was written plainly across it.

“Why not?” It was more a demand for honesty than a question.

“Because,” she said, looking anywhere else but him, “I just—I can’t say it back.”

“I don’t care if you can’t say it back yet, Kindra,” Jasper said roughly. He turned her face towards his, holding her chin firmly so she couldn’t turn away. “Don’t say it if you don’t want to. We don’t have to—we don’t have to be on the same timeline.” He huffed a soft laugh. “Gods know we rarely ever have been.” He grew serious again. “I don’t mind. If you don’t—love me.”

He did mind. Kindra forced herself to meet his gaze. “It’s not that I don’t—” She choked on the words and took a steadying breath. “It’s hard to accept. That I…” She trailed off again.

“Because you had been determined to hate me forever and you’re having a hard time accepting that you don’t? ”

She nodded, relieved to the point of tears that he’d said it for her. “Yes,” she breathed, “and I hate it. Not that—not that it’s changed. But that I’m struggling. It’s hurting you.”

He leaned down and pressed a kiss, feather soft, to her mouth. “It does not hurt me, Kindra,” he whispered against her lips. “It’s enough to know that your heart has changed and that you are trying.” He kissed her again, harder this time. “It’s enough,” he repeated. Another kiss, his hands pulling her flush against him. “It’s enough.”

The tension fled her body, and she went pliant in his arms, snaking her hands into his hair. He kissed her long and slow, his tongue brushing against hers, stoking the fire that had begun to burn within her.

His hands drifted to her thighs, bare thanks to the short nightgown she was wearing. She whimpered into his mouth; his grip tightened as he raised himself over her to slide between her legs, one hand moving to the pillow to prop himself up.

They’d done this dozens of times before; they’d played this game, come close to the edge. Just the other night, he’d pressed her into the mattress just like this, grinding against her until they were both writhing and panting. It had been a feat of god-like strength from both of them to resist the temptation.

This felt different, though. Some final wall between them had crumbled—a wall Kindra hadn’t even known existed until she’d heard him say that it was enough.

She was doing enough.

As if sensing she needed to hear it again, Jasper breathed, “It’s enough, Kindra.” His hand began snaking its way up her thigh, underneath the fabric of her nightgown. His fingers danced across the soft skin of her stomach, the underside of her breasts.

“Take it off,” she demanded, and he froze.

This was the threshold they’d never crossed, because they both knew if they did, there’d be no stopping what would happen next.

“I’m sure,” she said before he could ask. When he still hesitated, she placed her own hands on the hem of her gown and began pulling it off. Tossing it to the side, she didn’t allow her nerves to slow her as she tugged off her underwear, too. A second later, she was completely naked beneath him .

He simply stared at her, jaw slightly slack, his gray eyes wild. “Kindra,” he choked out, her name a plea, an oath, on his lips.

“Do you want to join me, or do you want to sit and stare?” She put a bit of playful snap in her voice, though the words shook slightly.

Jasper snapped out of his stupor then, and he was upon her, mouth and hands everywhere, touching all the places they’d yet to explore. Kindra clawed at his clothing, practically ripping his shirt from his body before tearing at the buttons of his pants.

Finally, they were both entirely bare. Kindra swept her gaze across his body. She’d seen him shirtless countless times, but what his pants had been hiding from her… She eyed him hungrily. He was doing the same to her, his stare halting first on her breasts and then on the apex of her thighs. His breath hitched, uneven and rough.

“Are you sure?” he asked. “I just... I need to hear it again.”

“Yes,” she replied simply. “Are you?”

He nodded rapidly. “Yes. Gods, yes.”

“Then have your way with me, Your Highness,” she purred, and her head fell back against the pillows as he slid a hand between her legs and finally touched her.

He moaned at the hot slickness of her, his fingers sliding into her slowly, gently. She squirmed underneath him, bucking her hips into his hand. He grinned, pure carnal delight lighting his features, his thumb brushing against that spot—

Kindra’s back arched off the mattress, pleasure shooting up her spine, down her legs as he stroked her. More, she needed more, she needed him —

The warmth of his hand vanished, and she bared her teeth, only to have her frustration vanish when she felt the hard press of him against her.

“Please, Jasper,” she gasped, nails already digging into his back, his shoulders. She was practically shaking with want. “Please.”

Jasper swallowed her pleas with a wet, hungry kiss as he slid into her, moving so carefully she could feel him trembling with restraint. But she was grateful for his care. It had been years since she’d last done this. She whimpered softly as she adjusted to the size of him.

“Kindra,” he panted. “Holy fucking gods.”

“Move,” she begged. She rolled her hips into his for emphasis .

He did not need any further instruction, pulling out and thrusting back into her with one tantalizingly slow movement. With each thrust, he picked up speed, the stretch of him so perfect that Kindra was rendered almost speechless, her nails ripping up and down his back as she nearly sobbed with ecstasy.

Why had they waited to do this? Stupid, utterly stupid.

Not stupid, a voice reminded her. You were waiting for a reason.

Right. Because a pregnancy—

“You can’t,” she started, managing to find the words, and Jasper nodded, already ahead of her.

“I know.” His voice was low, ragged. “I won’t.”

He reached a hand between them and stroked her while he moved, the sensation so overwhelming that Kindra had to sink her teeth into his shoulder to avoid screaming. He moaned in her ear, and she knew he was close, too.

Her release barreled through her, and she thrashed against him, crying out his name. A moment later, he slid out of her, catching himself in his hand as he shook with the intensity of his pleasure.

For a few heartbeats, there was only the silence of their heavy, gasping breaths. Then Jasper looked up at her, his eyes glassy. “Wow,” was all he could manage.

Kindra could only nod her agreement, still recovering. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to the hollow of her throat, and she was vaguely aware of him getting off the bed and vanishing into the bathing room. She heard the sound of running water a moment later.

When he reemerged, she was a bit more collected, and she gave him a soft, sated smile as he prowled towards her. Noting the hungry glint in his eyes, she tensed, desire already pooling within her again.

“You didn’t think I wasn’t going to taste you, did you?” He growled, spreading her thighs and lowering himself down between them. He ran his tongue up her center and they both moaned. “I’ve been dreaming about this for months.”

Kindra let every other worry, every other concern, fade to the background as he pressed his mouth against her. And as they lost themselves in each other again and again that night, she didn’t spare a single thought for anything else.