He caressed my cheek as if to soothe me. Then, he parted his lips, brushing them against mine, ever so slowly and gently. At first, my lips were merely trembling against his, and I was unable to relax—unable to have faith in this man. His fingers ran through my hair, and when he slowly started deepening the kiss, I panicked and let out a small moan of helplessness.
“No.” He stopped, murmuring against my lips, “Don’t be afraid of me, Elena.”
For a few moments, we remained close, breathing in a synchronized rhythm. We were surrounded by silence...our lips almost touching. I was still shivering against him. He stroked my hair and whispered undecipherable soft words, but he didn’t move away from me. I knew he was giving me time to relax. But, as if I needed to remind myself who he was and what he was capable of, I swallowed hard and expelled a shuddering breath.
“You are a Nyrman,” I whispered miserably, in a voice that was almost inaudible.
“So I am.” He shrugged like the fact held no importance whatsoever.
Did he really not understand?
“You hold the power.”
Smiling with a hint of mystery, he inhaled my scent and slowly guided my hand toward his chest. I could feel the wild beating of his hearth.
Once again, his lips lightly brushed against mine. “Does this seem like power, little one?”
Eyes widened in disbelief, I stammered in a voice filled with fear and pain, “You can destroy me.”
For a while, he remained silent, gazing at me as though I was something valuable meant only for him and him alone.
“Destroy you?!” he exclaimed in a gruff voice, shaking his head. “I don’t want to destroy you.” He kept staring at me like he was at a verge of a life-changing realization. “I want to save you. I want to make you mine.”