A Sinless Betrayal by Cherie Benjamin (most romantic novels TXT) 📕

heartily before taking my lips in his.

"Not that easily," he replies, his lip curling up into a sexy, yet malevolent smile. He presses his lips close to my ear. "You're my prey, my tigress. Prey should never run from their predator."

I push him back a little until my lips are close to his ear this time. "I'm a tiger. You're a wolf. Think about who's really the predator and who's really the prey."

He looks surprised with my answer, but pleased with me as well. "Shall we go back to our room?"

I take the hand he offers and hoist myself up onto my feet, following him down the dark corridor and into our bedroom. Blood

"No…you have to pick up your chest a little. Puff it out like you're trying to prove a point to someone. Great!" I'm praising him with a smile on my face, clapping my hands like an excited little girl.

Ever since we left the shagali, I've been teaching Abigor a little about my culture, and some of the dances. I told him of the countless balls we've had, the masquerades and the traditional styles of dancing. I told him of the masquerade balls, where people would dress up as characters from stories, wearing extravagant costumes and masks to really portray the said character. I told him that the royalty would throw balls regularly, and nobles would sometimes throw them as well. I even told him of a ball my family held.

I step forward, pressing my hands onto his and then I step right back to where I was. I spin gracefully a few times, with the help of one of his abnormally large fingers. I then lift my skirts a little higher, showing my foot dancing upon the stone floors. I move my hips rather sensually--almost copying the movements I'd seen the other ladies of the harem demonstrate during the shagali. I clap to my right, then to my left, and then I stand there, almost breathless, and wait for him.

He looks amused, thinking that I'd forgotten my own part. I give him a look, telling him with my 'telepathic abilities' to remember that the next part was his and not mine. "Oh." His huge hands wrap around my waist and lift me into the air. He makes me feel weightless as I stretch my arms above my head and tilt my head towards the sky.

Abigor turns in a circle then places me back on my feet. "Your dances are strange," he whispers to me. We circle each other like predators stalking their prey. He remembers the very last part, the one with our hands weaving in and out of each other's like the wind weaves through trees. "I've never done something so queer before."

"I could say the same about your dances," I retort softly, leaping away from him and then circling him again. He captures me and spins me once more on his arm. "But they are beautiful nonetheless."

I pull away from him and step back a little. He waits for my instruction, black slash of an eyebrow quirked upwards while his devious eye burns holes through my skin. "From the beginning?" he asks me.

I quietly nod my head.

"We don't have music, but just…just imagine something in your head. Something very beautiful and inspiring." We start our dance again, weaving in and out of each other. I imagine the most beautiful piece of music beginning to play, blasting inside of my head. When I begin to move, his eyes follow me with frightening accuracy, full russet lips tugged up at the corner.

He never looks away. Every touch, every glance, sends fire throughout my body, spreading like some sort of rare and extremely contagious disease. Something as simple as teaching him to dance the way my people did means so much more with the way he treats it. His eyes, his lips, and his touch all drive me to the cliff of insanity and want. Abigor lifts me into the air; heated hands on the sides of my waist grip me tightly, making me feel like a feather on the passing breeze once again.

And he lowers me slowly down, his hot breath on my breasts and neck as he holds me so close to his heavy body. He holds me above the ground for a moment, our foreheads resting together. He smells like pine forests, mint and man. Abigor is like living, breathing sex on legs. He can make a simple dance move, a lift that is meant to be chaste and pure, into something seductive and enticing.

When my toes finally feel the rough surface of the room floor, I let out the breath that I'd been selfishly holding in. He looks me straight in the eye with such a passion and lust that I blush a deep crimson and look away—it's just an instinct.

He breathes out, the muscles in his chest rippling from the action. "Tell me something." His voice rumbles deeply in his chest, sending vibrations through my body. I lick my lips and nod my head. "Do you regret making love to me?"

It's a question so surprising that it renders me speechless for a few seconds. My mouth is open, but Abigor is waiting for an answer. Finally, my words fail me no longer. My chest heaves with the heavy breaths I take. "I will never regret making love to you." His shoulders slump in relief. I shake my head in disbelief. "Why would you ask that?"

He stands his ground at first and then begins to dance again. I have no choice but to follow his footsteps. We touch hands and he spins me around on his finger. Then we clasp our hands together and he moves me back around the room. "I am a fast learner, no?"

I nod my head and smile. I can tell he's avoiding my question. "Yes, a very fast one indeed." He takes me dancing throughout the whole entire bedroom. "But you still haven't answered my question," I complain to him.

He steps away from me and pinches the bridge of his nose. "I was only making sure," he explains to me. Abigor looks rather agitated and probably wishes me to drop the subject. "That's all. That's why I asked you."

I frown at him and place my hands on my hips. "I think that you're—" I'm cut off as a pair of hot lips comes crashing down onto mine. The words I was meaning to say are lost in his passion.

And as he pulls away from our kiss, unscathed but visibly shaken, I finally realize. He wants to make sure I still want him; that he was gentle enough with me to make me want to be with him again, to have a new connection in place of the ones he's lost. He wants me to fill the empty holes his family has left in his heart, and with my talented hand, to stitch them closed with specially made patches from my own heart.

I nod my head at him.

The night is as peaceful as it is long. The shagali drags on while we are in our rooms, stripped nearly naked except for skimpy nightclothes. I wander onto his balcony and listen to the music, gazing out at the darkened night sky, lightening only by the bright moon and twinkling stars. I hadn't noticed the balcony before and I feel at peace with feeling the warm, summer breeze on my skin and hearing the beautiful music.

He joins me at my side, saying nothing when I greet him. His long hair tumbles over his shoulders and sways in the breeze. A flickering bug passes my way and I instinctively reach out to catch it. I open my fingers slightly to see the luminous insect glowing in my hand.

I nudge him with my elbow. "Look," I say. I show him the bug and he looks at it with interest. His eyes flash in warning and reach out to inspect it.

"Let it go," he hisses at me, obviously concerned for my health and well-being. He seems to be repulsed by the creature sitting peacefully inside of my palm. "Don't touch that vile thing."

I heave out a huff of surprised laughter at his sudden reaction to the insect in my hands. "Abigor, calm down." I chide him with a soft smile. "It's only a firefly. Do you know what they are? Have you ever seen one of them?"

He contemplates something inside his mind. "Fire…fly." He repeats the word, looking into my hands at the glowing bug again. "I've seen them out in the fields plenty of times, but never once did I think they were actual…creatures. My people always thought that these glowing little orbs were either a piece of the sun that broke away while it set low beneath the valleys and mountains or souls from those passed into the afterlife. But it was a taboo to catch one of them."

"Really?" I laugh. I remember the fond memories that I had when I was just a little girl back in Bellechester. How I would dance around with Michelle and the other little ladies of my house in the darkness of the night. "Where I come from, they are only bugs that serve as fun when caught. I used to take glass jars and catch them, and my friends and I would put them into the jar. We'd keep them in there and watch them as they'd light up and fade, then light up again. They were absolutely brilliant."

Another flickering bug comes whizzing by the side of Abigor's face. He reaches out and captures it in his hands. "Interesting," he murmurs. I let my own firefly go only a moment after, and he follows me. The two bugs fly off together into the night sky, flashing their little lights into the darkness.

Then he turns towards me with a conflicted look in his eye, like he is mentally debating with himself on whether or not to ask me this question. He decides with a long sigh. "Elizabella…would you like to see one of my most prized possessions? Something so worshipped that only the king and his men have them?"

The way he describes this mystery possession interests me fully. I nod my head. He leads me out of the room and down his long dark hallway. We travel down three fleets of steps until we meet a little wooden door, where we travel down one winding staircase to the base level of the castle.

There is a little crossing with three pathways branching off of it, the dark corridors illuminated only by torches. He explains that the dungeons are to the right, the private library is straight on ahead and the 'prized possession' room would be left. There is an unlit torch lying against the wall. He takes it, lights it, and then leads me on down the left pathway.

It is a little unnerving being down in the base level of the castle, where I'd never dared venture before. It is dark, cobwebs lining the ceilings and pesky rats crawling through holes in the stone walls. I wonder if Abigor has any prisoners staying in the dungeons right now, and if the person who guards the dungeon room whips and tortures their prisoners.

When I look back,