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She works me with one hand, hovering over me slightly and stroking my jawline with her other hand.
“It’s silly to worry about death right now, Noah. We should take pleasure wherever we can find it. We don’t know what tomorrow will bring.”
“Well, that’s true enough,” I grit out as hot pleasure explodes behind my eyes when she drags her fingers over the underside of my shaft, exploring and pulling.
Finally, frustrated, I breathe out a loud bellow and grab her by the waist, hosting her up until she’s straddling me.
She squeaks but looks beautiful and ethereal above me in the early morning light. I don’t see the dirty cabin behind her—the dust and the broken windows. I only see her, shining like the brightest star.
Savor her at this moment, a voice in my head demands, because you don’t know how many of them you’ll have left.
I pull her up by the behind, and she automatically balances her hands on my chest, leaning forward. I move one hand down to pick up my hard length, holding it up under her, right under its intended target.
“Come down on me, my mate,” I murmur, and she doesn’t hesitate to ease down slowly. We both unleash long groans at the feeling, and her muscles immediately spasm around me.
She flings her head back with a groan, and I start working my hips in rhythmic, thrusting motions. This won’t be as long or detailed as our first time, overshadowed as it is by the impending unknown.
My movements grow faster, and she meets me match for match, releasing short, eager whimpers every time she comes down on me. There’s a tightening in my groin that sizzles through my limbs, sending messages to all my nerve endings.
Then, pleasure erupts everywhere all at once, and I go ridged as she throws her body back, releasing a loud, satisfied moan. Even as the pleasure tapers to a cool, calm daze, I thrust against her once, twice, three times.
I don’t want it to be over.
But it is—much too quickly. I feel my knot growing and wrapping around her, and she wobbles atop me, too depleted to hold herself up on her own.
Gently, I ease her down so we’re each on our sides, facing each other once again.
“I could die right this moment, I’m so happy, Noah,” she murmurs into my arm, almost like she’s dreaming or talking in her sleep. “I’ve wanted you for so long.”
“Me too,” I grunt, kissing her forehead and ignoring the early morning sunshine easing its way through the open window.
36
An In-Between Person
Hetty
Even though no one comes for us, we don’t stay locked away for long.
By the time we step out of our decrepit cabin, the sun is high in the sky, and the air is warm and humid. It didn’t feel nearly this hot inside, and I can’t help but wish I was back in my cool, dank nest with my mate.
But Noah has a bee in his bonnet, so here we are—walking hand in hand toward the scents and the sounds of the camp.
The place I’d come to appreciate so much over the past few weeks feels overwhelming to my newly sensitive body. I want to be somewhere quiet with him, not out here in the heat. I’m not even sure when I last had anything to eat or drink, but the prospect seems ridiculous right now. Who could possibly eat at a time like this?
But when I grumbled about leaving earlier, telling Noah I wanted to stay hidden for a while longer, he was quick to shut me down.
“I want them all to see that,” he said, pointing to my mark. “They’ll know that you’re mine and that there’s no use fighting it anymore.”
I touch the mark with my fingertips as he holds my hand, leading me down the worn path. The mark doesn’t hurt, but it throbs with different emotions at random moments.
There was a surge of sadness when I saw Noah staring out the window forlornly, thinking too much about things he couldn’t control.
It tingled with happiness when he stroked my cheek, twisting a strand of my hair between his fingers.
And now, following him into the storm, it pulses a steady beat of anxiety. Even though his brow is set with fierce determination, he’s nervous—worried that he’ll have to fight them for me. He’ll do it gladly, but he’d rather not.
I squeeze his hand, and he looks down, smiling at me in reassurance. But as we approach the clearing, and his grip tightens, I can’t help but wonder if he’s on the verge of changing his mind and carrying me off into the woods instead.
