The Rising (The Rising #4) - Kristen Ashley Page 0,12
place in this world, and her value to it. You taught me that.”
His entire frame jerked at her words.
“Serena—” he growled.
“Please go.”
“Little mouse,” he murmured.
“You do more harm than good, remaining here, Trusted.”
They locked eyes.
In the end, it was unsurprising when he dipped his chin to her and took a step back before he turned and began to walk away.
“Trusted,” she called.
She heard the annoyed rumble come from his chest through his mouth when she called him thus again, this as he turned back to her.
“You were right,” she told him.
“About what?” he asked.
“She was alive.”
“Sorry?” he queried.
“The lady of the chalk. She was alive, falling through nothing, holding her dead lover.”
With her hand, Serena indicated the bodies lying at her side and then she swept her hand out to indicate wherever Macrinus and Hera were.
But she stopped herself before she indicated him.
“A life of yearning, and then heartbreak,” she finished. “And forever, they will hold them in their arms and have nothing.”
“I was wrong,” he returned.
“Look at them,” she retorted, again indicating her fallen sisters. “You were right.”
“I was wrong for I said those words to you, having never been falling in love before.”
Serena felt her body turn to stone.
“Now I have,” he went on. “And they have. And they will get past their despair and not one time for the rest of their lives will they consider what they shared with their lovers nothing.”
And as usual, Chu got in the last word.
Before he walked away.
124
The Grieving
Queen Elena
Base of the Night Heights Mountain Range
AIREN
I slapped back the flap, and for once, felt no succor upon entering Cass’s spartan tent.
It held a wide but thin pallet that sat atop a frame that was but half a foot off the ground, that frame covered in black hides to insulate the bed from the cold earth, the mattress covered in the same hides and nothing else. Not even a single, slender pillow.
Two trunks, one his, one filled with supplies.
And a small, folding table, now unfolded and fixed, covered in parchments, where Cassius was standing right then, reading one of the parchments.
No, this no-frills accommodation that was so very Cass (before me), and thus always settled me upon entering, did not lighten the load borne by my heart.
His eyes came to me, and I felt no succor from the gentleness of his gaze either.
But I moved direct to him.
“Ellie,” he whispered, dropping the parchment on the table.
And no relief from his deep voice saying my name.
I rounded him, to the front.
His hands came up, but before they could touch me, I pushed him.
Hard.
He stepped back on a foot.
I pushed him again.
Harder.
He stepped back again, and I followed him.
“Darling,” he murmured.
I pushed him again and again, following him, until I got him where I wanted, standing at the foot of the bed.
“Elena.”
Holding his gaze, remaining silent, I went for the buttons on his trousers.
He lifted his hands and cupped my jaw in both.
“My love,” he said.
That was right.
I was his love.
He loved me.
This beautiful man…
This loving father…
This loyal friend…
This fearsome warrior…
He loved me.
He loved me, loved me, loved me.
I reached into his leathers and pulled out his cock.
He grunted and the pads of his fingers dug into my skin, but he did not move away.
I stared into his eyes as I stroked him until he was hard, and only then did I let him go. I did this in order to plant my hands in his wide chest again and shove.
He went down on his arse on the pallet.
He was barely settled there, knees high, when I climbed on.
Still gazing deep into his eyes, I reached between my legs, shoved aside the body stocking, grasped his shaft in my other hand, positioned him, and bore down.
He growled, his fingers curling around the cheeks of my arse.
I whimpered, gripped his neck in both hands…
And I rode.
I took him, and retreated, took him, and retreated, bounding on his cock, gazing into his eyes, not caressing, not kissing, not speaking.
And he let me.
Let me handle him.
Let me take him.
Let me use him.
On these thoughts, the tears came.
“Ellie,” he whispered, his tone ragged, his hands gliding up my spine.
I moved one of mine away so I could shove my face in his neck.
There, I said, “I need you to climax.”
One of his hands instantly changed direction, but as it came around the front, I caught it by the wrist and put it back to my arse.
“No.” I lifted my head to look at him. “You. Just you.”