The Curse of Sins, page 12
Suddenly, Aya was back in her chambers in Rinnia, on another night she’d been covered in dirt and blood. Will had taken care of her then, just as he did now. Had let her sit in silence as she ruminated over what Dominic had told her that night—that her queen had offered her up in marriage to his nephew in exchange for an alliance.
Will hadn’t pressed her, hadn’t forced her to speak. He’d merely wiped the grime from her skin, soothing her in the ways he knew how to until she had the words to express what was roiling inside of her.
Aya covered his hand with hers, stilling the washcloth and drawing his gaze up to her face. His eyes were that storm-colored gray, a hurricane of emotions reflected in his irises.
“I can’t do this,” she croaked, her throat raw. “I can’t… I will only disappoint them. When they learn that I can’t save them, I will only disappoint them.”
Will considered her for a long moment. “No one could ever think you a disappointment, Aya love.” Slowing, as if he were afraid of startling her, he moved a hand to her cheek, his thumb swiping against her skin. “You’re magnificent.” His lips brushed the pulse point of her throat, and Aya let her head tilt back, let him bleed warmth into her as he murmured against her skin. “Strong.” Another kiss, this time beneath her ear. “Beautiful.”
His hand shifted into her hair, and he drew her forehead against his. “You’re a godsdamned gift that none of us deserve. And yet selfishly, I keep letting myself believe I can have you.”
Aya let out a shaky breath, her hand moving to the base of his neck, her fingers threading into his hair. There was a desperation burning inside of her, one she hadn’t known before him. And while it had simmered in her for weeks now, tonight it seared her very veins.
Perhaps it was the thought of something ruining this—the thought of them finding each other only to not have a life together—that terrified her.
So much had threatened it already. So much that they still hadn’t sorted through.
But she didn’t care. Not tonight.
She wanted him.
Perhaps that made her selfish, too.
“Then have me,” Aya breathed as she closed that last sliver of distance between them, savoring the warmth of his lips on hers and the way it seemed to spread throughout her as she kissed him softly.
Slowly.
The washcloth fell into the tub with a wet smack as Will’s hand moved to the small of her back, steadying her as he deepened their kiss. He nipped at the seam of her lips, and Aya opened for him, a soft moan escaping her as his tongue tangled with hers. Her legs wrapped around his waist, and Will hoisted her off the tub easily. Her back hit the wall in the next instant, his fingers digging into her thighs as he kissed her like a man who was suffocating, and she was his air.
Aya’s hands reached for the lapels of his jacket, yanking the fabric off his shoulders. He kept one arm on her, his body pinning hers to the wall as he helped her slide his jacket off the other. It was mere seconds until his other arm was free, and then Aya’s fingers were undoing the buttons of his shirt as he licked and nipped and sucked his way down her neck. Will let out a sharp breath as her nails dragged lightly down the bare skin of his chest, and before Aya could blink, she was off the wall, his strides quick and smooth as he brought her to her bed, where he laid her down with a tenderness that had her breath catching.
Will paused, his arms bracketing her head on the mattress as he hovered above her. His shirt hung open, his hair mussed, the flecks in his eyes looking like green sparks in the light of the candles he’d lit around her room. He stood slowly, his fingers bunching in the skirt of her dress, his eyes never leaving hers as he pushed the fabric up at a glacial pace. The slow brush of the fabric and his fingers against her sensitive skin had her writhing, her fingers digging into the mattress as she lifted her hips. Will chuckled, mischief glinting his eyes as he nodded at her to sit up.
“Arms up,” he ordered.
Aya raised her arms, her teeth digging into her lip as Will’s thumbs skimmed the undersides of her breasts as he pushed the fabric over her chest, then her head, finally, finally letting it drop to the floor.
For a moment, he simply stood there, his eyes scanning her body, the hunger on his face making her stomach tighten with need. Aya reached up, her hand cupping his face. She pulled his lips down to hers, her hands pushing his shirt off his shoulders. She heard the rustle of the fabric hitting the floor, the shuffle of his boots following. And then her hands were on his belt, tugging the leather out of its loops and dropping it on to the floor. Soon there was nothing at all between them but feverish skin and desperate touches as Will hoisted Aya further up the bed, his hands memorizing every inch of her they could reach.
“Fuck,” he muttered, his lips moving down her chest. He slid a hand down her stomach, his finger swirling against that sensitive spot between her legs as he licked and sucked at her sensitive flesh. Aya’s hips bucked at his touch, a desperate whimper leaving her as he slid two fingers into her.
“Fuck,” he rasped again, his lips pressing into hers.
He didn’t kiss her. He devoured her.
“I swear this isn’t what—” He cut himself off with a groan as Aya moved against his hand.
Aya’s eyes nearly rolled back into her head with pleasure. “Please, gods, don’t stop,” she whimpered.
Will chuckled, the sound dark and seductive as he grinned down at her. “Will is a perfectly acceptable way to address me, love,” he murmured, his fingers curling until they hit that spot that had her breath coming in short gasps.
Aya moaned, her fingers digging into his arms. “Fuck you,” she snapped back, but the words were breathy and desperate.
Will laughed again, his thumb brushing that spot between her thighs lightly. “Is that a request?” he asked as he continued to tease her there. Aya bit her lip, her back arching as pleasure raked through her.
Gods, this was unlike anything she’d felt before. Her skin was flushed and tight, the pleasure of his touch seeming to stretch through her entire body.
She put a hand on his wrist, and Will stilled, his fingers leaving her immediately. “What is it?” he asked, his brow furrowed. “Did I—”
“Yes,” she cut him off, her chest heaving. She swallowed, trying desperately to catch her bearings. “Yes, it’s a request.”
Will stared at her for a moment, and she thought he might be the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen with his swollen lips, his flushed face, his mussed hair. “Are you sure?” he rasped, all trace of teasing gone from his face. His body stayed still, his muscles trembling, as if it took every bit of his control to restrain himself.
As if he couldn’t believe she truly wanted him.
She supposed she had instilled that doubt in him just last night.
Aya’s fingers found his left hand and she lifted it to her lips, pressing a kiss against the scar of their oath. “Undoubtedly,” she whispered as she placed his hand on her hip.
Will let out a shuddering breath, his palm skimming down the side of her leg, fingers digging into her flesh as he hooked her leg around his waist. Aya bit back a moan at the feeling of the tip of him against her opening. Her grip tightened on the back of his neck, but she resisted the urge to tilt her hips and take him inside her.
She kept her eyes locked on his as she said, “I want you.”
It was the last bit of confirmation he needed.
Will slid into her, and Aya’s eyes fluttered shut, a low moan escaping her as he filled her.
“Fuck, Aya,” Will groaned, his head falling against hers as he pushed in further. He stilled once he was in to the hilt, his heart a thunderous beat against her chest. “You feel incredible.”
And he felt perfect.
Aya rolled her hips, and Will hissed in pleasure.
His fingers dug into her hip as he pulled out slowly, the drag of him inside of her pulling a breathy noise out of Aya that made him grin. He thrust back in, harder this time, his kiss muffing his moan.
Slowly, they built a steady rhythm together, each thrust of his hips met with a roll of hers. His lips found her neck again, his muttered words half lost against her skin.
“Waited so long…”
“Like you were made for me…”
“Better than I ever…”
Aya tugged his head up, desperate to feel his lips on hers. But he withheld his kiss, the flecks of green flaring in the gray of his irises as he snapped his hips harder, her body trembling with the pleasure he wrung from her with every thrust.
And gods, the way he was looking at her…
It obliterated every wall she’d ever built, destroyed every barrier she’d ever put between them as he thrust into her again. Again. Again.
Will pressed a tender kiss to her mouth as he rolled his hips once more.
Aya gasped, her back arching. The pleasure inside of her was building, pulling so tight she swore that when it snapped, she’d break with it. It intensified with every thrust of Will’s hips, his motions sharp and hard, as if he knew the exact way to pull the most ecstasy from her body.
“Will,” she panted, his name the only word her mouth could form. She said it over and over as he brought them barreling toward that cliff.
“Magnificent.”
“Strong.”
“Beautiful.”
Each word was murmured against her skin as he wound her tighter and tighter. The tightness inside her snapped, and Aya let out a hoarse cry as her body shuddered around him, pleasure coursing through her in waves so big, she thought she might drown in them. Will continued moving, dragging every bit of that blessed feeling from her as he held her through it.
And then he followed her over that edge, his body stilling, a choked-off groan tearing from his throat as he came.
Will dropped his head on her shoulder, his warm breaths tickling her skin as they fought to catch their breath. Aya dragged her fingers into the back of his hair, the strands damp, as she let herself melt beneath him, the tension bleeding from her bones.
He lifted his head, that tender happiness that he rarely showed the world on his face, and like a prayer to the gods themselves, he whispered one final sentiment.
“Divine.”
16
It was rare that Will awoke and wondered if he’d died and ended up in the Beyond. Mostly, he thought of the seven hells, convinced as he was that his actions had earned him an eternal sentence in its layers.
But as he opened his eyes to see Aya’s head resting on his chest, her dark hair fanned out across her bare back, legs tangled with his, he could conjure up no other explanation.
Because this…this was heaven.
No. This is real.
He ran his fingers through her hair, her body warm and soft against his as he tugged her closer. The need to feel her, to touch her, to prove that this wasn’t some cruel dream given to him by the gods was almost overwhelming.
This is real.
His fingers skimmed the small of her back, his lips whispering across the top of her head. A thousand mornings like this wouldn’t be enough for him to get used to the feeling of her naked body pressed against his, to the fact that she was here, in his arms, her lips having been pressed against his skin.
Aya shifted slightly, and those lips brushed his chest as she muttered, “I can hear you thinking.”
Will grinned down at the top of her head. One morning—it had only been one morning since he’d heard the husk in her voice that lingered after she slept. He hadn’t realized how much he missed it.
“Would you care to know what I was thinking?” Will drawled, his fingers tracing circles as they trailed down her spine. Aya lifted her head, and the quiet joy in her blue eyes made his entire world go still.
Her lips tipped up into a small smirk, her hand trailing down, down, until he was biting back a groan as her fingers wrapped around his already stiff arousal. “I’d rather you show me.”
And so he did.
***
It was still relatively early by the time Will left Aya’s room to bathe and change his clothes. He was pulling a black sweater from his armoire when there was a knock on the door, her head peeking in moments later.
“I figured you needed help with that ointment Suja made.”
“You putting it on would be far more effective than me,” he admitted.
Aya frowned, her head tilting to the side as he grabbed the balm and sat on the bed. “How have you been managing without me?”
“I haven’t.”
She shot him a look, her brow furrowed as she snatched the tin from his hand, murmuring something about his character he chose not to hear. But her touch was gentle as she laid a hand on his shoulder, pushing him forward slightly so she could reach the expanse of the scars.
“How does it feel?”
Will shifted under her touch. “Tender.” He tilted his head to meet her gaze as he gave her a wry grin. “I may have overextended myself.”
She rolled her eyes, but a smile pulled on her lips regardless. Will inhaled sharply as she prodded a particularly sensitive area. “What happened after you left Suja’s yesterday?” Aya murmured, her thumb coasting across his shoulder in soothing strokes, as if to help with the pain.
Will’s jaw shifted. He had been dreading this conversation.
“I spoke with Tova.” Aya’s hand paused on his back, and something churned in his stomach. But he forced himself to look her in the eye as he continued. “It’s safe to say she’s not keen to forgive me. It’s just as you said: she acted like we never had that conversation in the dungeons.” Aya’s face was unreadable, and it was enough to have Will nervously stammering on. “I should have told you last night. Before we—”
“No,” Aya interjected, her gaze sharpening. “Gods, Will, that’s not… I’m just… Why is she lying? If she didn’t tell Gianna anything, what’s the point in pretending you two didn’t even speak?”
Will shrugged, something hollow still lingering somewhere behind his sternum. “Tova has always been headstrong. She’s angry, and she has every right to be. Perhaps she’d just rather believe I’m horrid through and through. Maybe it’s easier to hate me that way.” The words felt as heavy as they sounded when he spoke them.
“And Gianna?”
Will tried not to shift as Aya began smoothing the ointment over his scars once more. “Gianna seems more than willing to put her anger aside. Which leads me to believe Tova truly didn’t tell her anything. If she had…well, one of us—Tova or me—would be dead.”
“Her forgiveness came too easily,” Aya murmured. Of course Aya would say that. It was her job to read people, and Aya didn’t always need to be in the room to do it. Will made a noise of agreement, carefully turning his next words over.
“It did. But she’s redoubling her efforts to search for the supplier who was willing to trade with Kakos, and she wants me involved.”
Aya frowned. “I thought Lena was leading that charge.”
“I am still her Second, you know,” he countered. Even if Lena seemed keen on edging both him and Aya out of the positions that kept them close to their queen. Aya squeezed his shoulder harder than he deserved, a whisper that sounded awfully like ass leaving her in a huff.
“Why double her efforts in it now?” Aya pressed.
Will drummed his fingers on the bedspread. “I don’t pretend to know the inside of Gianna’s mind. But I plan to find out. She’s given me the perfect opportunity to do so by involving me in the investigation.”
There was more to tell her—gods, there was more to tell her about what Gianna had tasked him with, and he had promised himself that he would after the Sanctification, but the words were lodged somewhere in his throat, held there by the memory of Aya’s shaking voice in the healing quarters.
Tell me you did not do this.
Aya placed a tender kiss on his shoulder, drawing him from his thoughts. “I had the same thought this morning about the Synastysi.”
Will’s hands found her waist, tugging her to stand before him as he gazed up at her. “And here I thought you’d hate the orders to study with the priestesses.”
“I do,” Aya retorted darkly. “But reviewing the texts could help me learn about the veil. If it’s truly damaged, like Lorna thinks, perhaps I could repair it.”
The thought made something in Will’s chest tighten. Toying with the veil had killed Evie. He loathed to think of Aya interacting with it at all.
“Aya…” he started to argue, but she merely pressed on.
“I have a favor to ask of you.”
Will hesitated for only a moment.
Later, he supposed. They could discuss this later.
“Anything.”
She bit her lip, her eyes darting across his face, unsure of herself in a way she didn’t often show. “Would you come see my father with me?”
Will blinked. Of all the requests he expected her to make, it wasn’t this. She must have felt the way his hands stiffened on her hips, because Aya rushed on, her fingers fiddling with the sleeve of her dark-blue sweater. “I know we agreed to keep this between us, but I don’t want to go alone, and I–I want him to meet you.” Her eyes flicked up to his. That quiet joy still lingered in her irises. “To know you.”
Will swallowed, his fingers flexing on her hips. “Will he not be…concerned, that you’re with me?” he asked, hesitation written in each of his words. Aya frowned, and Will sucked in a steadying breath. “I am the queen’s Enforcer. My reputation is one most parents would find unsavory. And it is not entirely undeserved.”
Aya’s frown deepened, that light in her eyes vanishing as something like determination replaced it. She cupped his face, forcing his gaze to stay fixed on hers as she said, “I choose you. There is not a single part of you that I don’t choose. Not one.”
It was instinct to lean in to that familiar crutch—to mask his uncertainty, his insecurity, with insolence. But his smirk felt forced as he drawled, “I believe you’ve used the word insufferable quite frequently to describe me.”
