S.L. Naeole - Grace of Day (Grace Series, Book 04)

The smell of fear and domination were overpowering. I could not close myself off to it as I struggled to breathe amid the chaos that reigned around me. The violence that was the beating of my heart only further drove my mind into a downward spiral of confusion and grief as I forced myself towards the dark visage that stood before me.

I could not take my eyes off of the sinister smile that seemed to stretch from ear to ear, pleased at the pandemonium that danced around us, oblivious to the standoff that was taking place at its core. My fingers twitched at my side, the temperature dropping so suddenly, I didnt have time to feel cold. It was time. I had chosen this, after all. This was my destiny, my fate.

My chin raised defiantly, my eyes narrowed, and I took the final steps towards the last decision I knew Id ever make.

His kiss was sweet and soft initially. The warmth in his lips was soothing, like the morning sun after a storm. I let it wash through me, erasing so much of the hard edge that I had felt forming around me from the moment Id learned about what I was.

I didnt close my eyes. I wasnt going to close my eyes anymore, I realized. Looking at him was like a revelation, a cure for every ache. He smiled at my thoughts and touched my face with the back of his hand, grazing my skin so gently I had to question whether his hand was even there. Or, maybe it was the other way around; maybe I wasnt really there, just the ghost of me.

With his free hand, he waved at the door, which closed obediently. His fingers trailed down my throat and skimmed my pulse before he let his lips tattoo a warm line from my jaw to my shoulder. I couldnt help but smile at that one simple act.

I think its time we got rid of this shirt, he said, looking at the singed and stained garment that covered me. I looked down and felt my cheeks redden when I realized just how badly the attack in the car had damaged my clothes.

There were holes of varying sizes on my chest revealing the shirt that lay beneath it. Parts of the shirt were charred beneath my armpit. I could feel the hard edges on my back and after inhaling, I could smell the burned cotton. I didnt realize the car had gotten that hot. Im surprised I didnt get burned, too.

Robert said nothing at that, his hands finding the edge of my shirt and lifting, my arms rising to allow him to lift the top over my head. Beneath it was a simple white tank top, the same thing Id been wearing to bed since I could remember. He looked at it and smiled.

When weve spent a hundred years together, I will still find this to be the most charming thing Ive ever seen.

And what happens after a hundred and one years? I asked lazily as his fingertips ran up and down my bare arms, sending miniature waves of sensation pulsing to my stomach.

Youll wear my shirts for the next hundred. And then nothing at all.

Nothing? I gulped.

He lowered his head and licked the inside of my arm and the crease of my elbow. Yes. I figure itll take at least three centuries before you feel comfortable enough to sleep naked with me.

Thats an optimistic number, I said, half-laughing, half-gasping.

It is, isnt it? But I have faith in you, Grace.

He stopped doing what he was doing to straighten, taking my face in his hands and holding me still, his eyes clear and sparkling, his voice steady and firm. I have faith in you, Grace. I dont know if Ive ever told you that. I always thought it, I always felt it, but I want you to hear it.

I have faith in you. I believe in you.

I blinked back tears that had no source; they just appeared. His face blurred, his features warping and expanding in exaggerated shapes, and I hiccupped at the effect. How could he do that to me? How could he just say something as simple has that he had faith in me and turn me into a fountain?

And I knew why.

No ones ever said that to me before. Ever.

His mouth made a funny curl in my vision as he smiled, his thumb brushing against my eyes to wipe away the tears that clung desperately to my lashes. Thats because were all idiots, every last one of us. Having faith in you is the most natural thing in the world.

I shook my head in disagreement. No. No, loving you is the most natural thing in the world.

He chuckled, taking a stray strip of my hair between his fingers and rubbing it. Thats funny. You seemed to find it much easier to get mad at me in the beginning. I still remember you yelling at me on the side of the road, like a little terror.

Well, youd just dumped chili all over me, I told him, my hand diving into his hair and rubbing back and forth, causing the slight curls to tighten.

He leaned back, his mouth popping open in mock shock. I did not! You bumped into me!

Wrong again! I was pushed, I laughed.

Sure, he laughed back. You dont have to lie; you can be honest and admit that you were so drawn to my angelic charm that you couldnt help yourself.

Oh! I scoffed. Angelic charm? You couldnt say anything but so we meet again, like those were the only words in your head!

There were other words in my head, but you would have probably punched me if Id said them. Or eaten me. Now that I think about it, I probably should have said themyou eating me sounds rather exciting.

I shoved his shoulder playfully, and gasped when his sleeve separated from his shoulder. Oh no! Im sorry! I tugged on the torn seams, trying fruitlessly to put them back together.

He looked at the damage Id caused, inspecting the seam to see just how bad the repair job would be and then, without a word tore the sleeve off completely. He turned to the other side and repeated the action, throwing both sleeves onto the floor and smiling at the result. There. Even.

I laughed. Id never seen him look that way before. Hed always tried to look the part that he played: perfect and contained, calm and cool, handsome in ways that could only come from something divine. But here he was, his hair tousled, threads poking out and hanging from his torn shirt, his eyes wild with amusement, and his mouth half-open in a crooked, less than perfect smile.

He looked free, and happy.

Hed never looked better than he did then. Not divine, not angelic, not perfect. Everything that made him so attractive to everyone else was nothing compared to the fading worry that caused tiny creases around his eyes and mouth and the slouch in his shoulders.

I moved closer to him and, one by one, undid the buttons on his shirt, kissing his chin for each one. He eased his body so that I could push the remnant of his shirt off, my breath catching in my throat at what I saw beneath the fabric. His shoulder was bruised.

The color brought the tears back to my eyes and I looked up at him and in the haze he smiled, bringing one of my hands to his mouth to kiss the pads of my fingertips. I smiled back and kissed the dark purple section of his skin before pressing my cheek against it, feeling the slight coolness to it.

Unspoken thoughts traveled between us as we both stood and, slowly, we undressed each other, the soft lamplight working with us to hide the other bruises we found on each other. Hands had never been more necessarily slow or gentle. It was like every reveal was communion, and every brush of air against our skin a blessing.

We were generous in our attention to each other, each nuance of softness and hardness, each curve and angle that existed only because the other did. Finding the weaknesses of each other became a game and we both cheered the other on to win. On our feet, we were each others strength but what we needed was more than physical strength. We collapsed, tumbling onto the bed.

I leaned back into the soft pillow and cover, feeling the weight of him and the heaviness of his gaze. The bed was small, but we didnt need much space. This wasnt about trying to conquer each other or consume each other.