Chapter Seven

Nissa came to awareness in dribs and drabs. The first thing that impressed itself upon her was the smell. She was not surrounded by the floral scent of her roses but by a wonderful musky scent, rich and warm, at turns comforting and mouthwatering.

Her eyes opened to the sun on the wrong side of the room, and then she opened them wider to see the wrong room. Not her room.

In a flash, Nissa sat upright, the sheet clutched tight to her body. A quick glance showed she was still fully clothed, though wiggling her toes told her she had no shoes on her feet.

“Nissa, look at me!”

“I’m Benton, your Benton.”

“Benton,” she called without thought, before considering if she was ready to see him yet.

His face appeared in the doorway in moments, suggesting he had been close by, perhaps even waiting for her to call.

She took him in, her gaze slow and methodical as she studied him. There was no change from the last time she had seen him, not a single trace of Byron left in either the scarred face or large body.

Other memories were starting to crowd her mind now, rank breath and a filthy odor, and a tongue shoving itself into her mouth as a hand forced her jaw to open and allow it.

The sheet wrapped itself around her legs as she scrambled out of bed. She fell hard against the floor and jarred her wrist, but she didn’t let the pain stop her from reaching the open window. She pushed her head through as her stomach emptied itself into the bushes below.

It took several turns for her stomach to clench and release before she felt well enough to chance leaving the safety of the window. She pulled her head back to find Benton kneeling in front of her, a glass of water and some mint leaves in his hands.

She took both. As she chewed she took in his form – the broad shoulders, the deep scars, the thin lips. It was Benton, down to the almost invisible scar at his hairline.

“You believed me.” His once-again deep voice broke through her musings. “When I told you last night. You believed Byron was Benton.”

Nissa smiled, and the involuntary curling of her mouth settled her stomach. This felt normal and right. This felt like everything was okay again. “That’s the first thing you question?”

He shrugged. “Seems like a good place to start. Most would find it hard to believe.”

“Where I grew up, talk of magic and of fairy godmothers is very common. Several people I knew and loved swore they were helped by one or knew someone who was. I’ve always half-believed in them. That was what made me believe you. You used the words fairy godmother .” Byron was Benton but he wasn’t, and now there was no more Byron, was there? “Are you going to be Byron anymore?”

He shook his head, his pale-ice eyes direct and unflinching. “No, I can never be him again.”

She ran her thumb over the rough stone surface of the cup, her eyes following the movement in an excuse not to look at him. Her emotions were riding hard over her. Her Benton was back, but as grateful as she was for that, she mourned the loss of Byron. No, she didn’t love him, but he was becoming a good friend, a friend in a different way than either Marie or Benton could lay claim to in her life.

Byron was not Benton – at least, their attitudes were not the same. Neither were their strengths or how they reacted to the world. Was Byron what Benton would have become if he’d grown up handsome? Or was he entirely created by the fairy godmother? “How did you become Byron?”

He rose and went over to the bed, straightening the covers as he talked. “It was a wish that came true. I didn’t believe her when she said she was a fairy godmother and offered to grant my wish, not really. But there was something about her. I didn’t believe, but in one corner of my heart, I did. And I made a wish, and she granted it.”

“What exactly was your wish?” Her eyes fixed on Benton again in time to see him falter for a fraction of a beat before he finished with the bed.

“Does it matter?”

Her hands tightened on the cup. “It does to me. After all, you gave up your wish to protect me. That’s what… last night… was about, wasn’t it? Why you kept yelling at me to focus on you. By telling me, that’s what broke the wish and made you turn back.” The light hit the bottom of Benton’s face, and she saw his bottom lip was swollen and chewed through. “What happened to your face?”

“Nothing,” he said, the response so quick that it could only mean it was something to do with her.

Nissa set the cup aside and stood, walking over to him. He kept his focus on the bed, but the tenseness in his body told her he was aware of every move she made.

She had missed him so much these last few weeks. Byron had been interesting and she had considered him a friend, but she could never fully relax around the beautiful man. She had thought it was because of the disparity in their looks, that she would always wonder when Byron would leave her and pursue a more worthy woman, but on closer reflection that wasn’t the truth.

The truth was Byron’s glibness never appealed to her the same way Benton’s quiet strength and strong presence did.

Nissa placed gentle hands on either side of his face and turned it towards her own. “Benton,” she said, voice low but firm. “Look at me. Don’t turn me away now.”

He didn’t take his head out of her hold, but his eyes would not meet hers. “I’m sorry.”

The wrongness of the words hit her hard. She blinked several times, trying to process them, but they still made no sense. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m sorry I took him away from you, and now it’s just me.”

The words were a sucker punch, leaving her reeling, unable to breathe as his features took on a cast of shame and sorrow. “Do you hear what you are saying? You’re apologizing for giving up this gift in order to save me? Benton, you gave me my life last night. I owe you everything.”

He shook his head, the movement not hard or fast enough to dislodge her hands. “You owe nothing. I would give anything for you.”

“Why? Because I’m your friend?” He still wouldn’t look at her, but he did not move away from her either.

A friend? Yes, he was her friend, but this went beyond friendship. This went beyond anything she had ever dared hope. Nissa continued. “No, that’s not it. You courted me as Byron. You could have had any woman in the village, or better yet, you could have traveled and explored and met a new woman in every port. But you stayed by my side.”

And finally he looked at her. Those amazing eyes were so soft, so clear. He was bare to her, open to her as he’d never been before. “That was all I wanted.”

Her heart beat so fast it was a miracle it didn’t punch through her chest. The man she had loved, the man she lusted over, committed everything he was to her. Her, not a beauty and not in any way special. He loved her for her.

Just the way she loved him, how she always loved him. She loved him because he was scarred, and because he was anti-social, and because he was the most honorable man with a core of integrity nothing could break. What was a pretty face compared to those?

And this man chose her.

She wanted to giggle. She wanted to laugh. She wanted to dance around the cabin and throw flowers through the air in celebration.

Benton’s chest expanded on an inhale, the muscles bunching in quick movement, and desire hit her hard, curling itself through her stomach and wrapping around her lungs and heart, slowing them both as desire flowed through her veins.

But more than anything, Nissa wanted this man. She wanted him now, inside her. She wanted his strength used not to protect her but to pleasure her. And she wanted him for the rest of her life.

Nissa leaned closer, her mouth inches away from his ear and blowing hot air against the sensitive skin. “What was your wish, Benton?”

His eyes half closed and a small shudder ran through him at the sensation, his voice a hoarse and broken thing as he answered her. “I wished the beast away. I thought that was the way to get you to love me.”

She smiled and leaned her head against him, forehead against the side of his head, breathing in his scent, another reminder he was back. He was an idiot. She was an idiot. All the time wasted. “Why didn’t you ask me how I felt about Benton before you changed yourself to Byron?”

But why talk anymore? It was preventing her from getting him naked, and that needed to happen now. Before he could answer she ducked her head so her mouth followed the line of his throat and employed little tugs and nibbles at the rough skin. There was the movement of his Adam’s apple under her teeth, and then his voice, low and growly, came forth. “Didn’t think there was a need.”

This was heaven. This was completion. Time for her tongue to come out and play again, dipping into the hollow of his throat. “You thought wrong, Benton. I’ve been lusting after you for months. That last day we were together, when you came to get me, all bare-chested and glistening with sweat? I nearly knocked you over and attacked you right then. I was shaking I wanted so badly to be in your bed.”

He groaned then, either because of her words or her tongue, and grabbed her face with his hands. He brought her mouth to his and thrust his tongue into her mouth, the action like everything Benton did, strong and sure and without hesitation. He took her over, overpowering any objections. His tongue slid along hers as his hands wrapped in her hair, using the leverage to adjust her enough that he could deepen the kiss.

There was no gentle flare of responding heat. Her body went to an instant conflagration, desire and want pooling into every square inch.

His fingernails scraped over her scalp and down her neck, the small pain making her growl and press her mouth harder against his. He moaned into their kiss, and she thrust her tongue into his mouth in a deliberate attempt to mimic what she wanted him to do with her body. His uneven groan told her he understood.

Clothes needed to start coming off. No matter what they were doing now, Benton would not touch her, not after last night. She needed to take the lead on this one.

His clothing first. After months of dreaming, damned if she was going to wait any longer to see those legs or that fine ass.

His shirt was only half-buttoned, and she pulled the shirt down his arms. She paused when he was exposed to her once again. She might have seen this before, but this time she could touch, could lick, could suck – and she was going to do all that and more. He was hers.

Placing her palms on his chest, she memorized the feel of him, her strokes firm enough to not tickle but light enough to keep a teasing edge. His breathing was rapid, gasps and groans, as she finally explored him the way she’d desired for so long.

She leaned forward, her tongue sliding along the indent in the middle of his stomach. His muscles bunched under her wandering mouth, involuntary jumps that told her how much she was affecting him.

“Nissa,” he said. He was panting, his breaths short and sharp.

“Shh, Benton. I’ve wanted to play like this so long. You wouldn’t deny me, would you?” She looked up and locked eyes with him, and with a small smile she hoped was more than a bit devilish, she ran the flat of her tongue over his covered cock.

Evidently he would deny her, because almost the second she finished he hauled her up and pressed her hard against his body as his mouth attacked hers again.

She pulled back. “I’m still wearing my blouse. Should I remedy that?”

His eyes brightened at her words, but he held his body still. “Are you sure? I’ll wait until you’re ready.”

Nissa caressed his lower lip with the tip of her finger. “If you hadn’t disappeared those weeks ago I’d have already been under you. I’ve waited long enough.” With that she stepped back and in a swift, sure move pulled her top free, leaving her bare.

Once naked uncertainty slammed into her. He was seeing her in all her glorious imperfection.

But the reverent light in his eyes soothed away her doubt. “You are perfect,” he said, his hands cupping the slight weight of her breasts. His hands squeezed, the rough palms scraping over her sensitive nipples. Desire clawed through her insides and a breathy moan tore from her throat. “You are so responsive, and you feel so good. I couldn’t imagine anyone more perfect.”

Others might find his eyes frightening, but right now they were the most beloved sight in her world, filled with love, caring, and sincerity as they were, and all of it directed at her. She stretched up to kiss the scars lining his face. He took a half-step back before he stilled and leaned closer, allowing her mouth to ghost over the matrix of scar tissue.

Her movements were slow and controlled and she didn’t leave a speck of skin unkissed. “Does that mean when I say you’re perfect for me, you won’t argue anymore?”

The corner of Benton’s mouth tilted up. “We’re two perfect people.”

“Damned straight.” She bit her bottom lip, rubbing her pelvis against the hard bulge in his pants. “I don’t think anything could be more perfect than that.”