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With his arm holding Havily around her waist and her head still leaning into the well of his shoulder, and with his complete unwillingness to move her even a millimeter away from him, he walked her slowly in the direction of their bedroom.
He had a small problem. Watching his woman for hours had given him a profound need for her—but she was exhausted. So what the hell was he supposed to do?
He knew the answer and sighed. Only a cold shower would do, but the idea irritated the hell out of him.
After a trip down the hall that took much longer than usual, he guided her to the right then to the door of their room.
“Is something wrong?” she asked, as he shoved the door open. He turned sideways to get them both inside without losing contact. “You seem really tense.”
“No, nothing,” he murmured. “I’m tired, worried, whatever.”
He felt her sigh against him. “Me, too. I should shower.”
“Just get in bed. You can shower tomorrow.”
She pushed away from him. “No. Must shower. Now.” Her eyes were at half-mast as she kicked off her heels then stumbled into the bathroom.
“Fuck,” he murmured. He could hear her stripping her clothes off.
He grabbed a robe. He hunted in the south rooms for another bathroom. Finding one in a second suite of guest rooms, he folded off his clothes, turned the shower lever, and stepped into an icy spray of water. He shivered as he stared down at his ready-for-anything hard-on. Even the cold water wasn’t helping, which was in itself some kind of cruel joke.
Whatever. He wanted Havily. He wanted her now. He shut the water off then smoothed over all his goose bumps with a towel. Jesus, he was still hard.
Maybe, if he took it slow, worked Havily up a little …
He took deep breaths. Yeah, maybe that would work.
He slid his robe on. He even took a minute to brush his teeth.
But when he returned to the bedroom, she was facedown on the bed, her red hair fanned over her back, her skin still damp in places from her shower. A full moon lit her naked body in a glow. Worse, she was lying on his side of the bed. So … shit.
“Hey,” she whispered.
Hope burgeoned. “I thought you were asleep.”
“No. I have your fennel scent in my nose and I need you.”
He sat down on the edge of the bed next to her. She slid her hand on his thigh and he hissed. It would take so little … but … “Your eyes aren’t even open,” he said.
“Don’t need ’em open.” Her words were slurred since her mouth was pressed against the pillow. Then she opened her eyes and a wave of honeysuckle wafted over him, not strong, but his c**k didn’t seem to care. Dammit.
“You sure about this? You sure you don’t just need to go to sleep?”
“Take me, Warrior. I can always wake up for you.”
She rolled oh-so-slowly onto her back, and since she was naked he couldn’t help himself. He crawled over one leg and planted himself between her knees. He leaned over her and kissed her forehead, her cheeks, her mouth.
“Mmm. Minty.” She giggled, but her eyes were once again closed. He had the worst feeling this was not going to end well … for him.
He dipped lower and kissed her br**sts. Her body undulated at the light touch. A warble sounded in her throat. He figured he was headed in the right direction.
He kissed down her abdomen and swirled his tongue around her belly button.
“You are the smartest man ever,” she whispered, her voice still a little slurred.
He moved lower and was thankful Medichi had had the foresight to put oversized beds in this room. He could maneuver.
When he had his arms slung under her knees, he settled in and got to work. Yeah, his woman was tired, so he’d get her where she needed to be.
* * *
Havily was in that delicious place of fatigue and pleasure that kept her body so loose that she swore she could feel every practiced flick of Marcus’s tongue without any distraction. The man had a tongue that knew a woman’s body, and though she might have felt jealous that he’d had a lot of practice, she couldn’t really repine not when … oh. She groaned as his tongue went low and took her in a long swipe then penetrated her. Ohhhhhh.
Her head lolled first to one side then the other. With his hands, he pinned her hips down so he could keep thrusting into her in deep hard jabs until she was crying out. She knew he was aroused as well, since her nostrils were flooded with his scent, which in turn built tension all down her tender nether-lips as he plunged his tongue into her.
She closed her mouth and dragged more of his scent into her nostrils. She dragged and dragged, which enhanced the sensations building and building. He groaned now, lost in the magic of sex, of giving. She got lost in the repeated waves of fennel.
She cried out into the dark of the bedroom they shared, her body undulating and writhing.
He worked her hard, his chin banging against her low and increasing the dazzling sensations that … oh … my … God now streaked liked lightning along her sensitive flesh and drove inside her until she was crying out. The orgasm caught her hard, tickling her feet, drawing her stomach into a blissful knot, and making her heart ache. Her core pulsed and pulled and the whole time he tongued her.
When her body started to settle, his movements slowed. Only her harsh breaths punctuated the air of the room as her lungs caught up with how much oxygen she needed.
“Amazing,” she murmured. She thought she pulled him on top of her, but her mind had turned to mush and instead, in a strange moment of awareness that disappeared as swiftly as it came, she realized she’d pulled her knees up to her chest and turned on her side. She called his name, but she thought maybe that was just a wishful dream.
She was so tired.
Damn Endelle anyway.
* * *
Marcus rose up, still on his knees. His woman had drawn into the fetal position and dragged a pillow against her stomach and was … God help him … already asleep.
The sigh that came out of him was part groan. Goddamn breh-hedden. If this had been any other woman in any other situation, he would have gone straight to the shower and taken care of himself. But he knew, he knew, that Havily was what he needed right now, her honeysuckle scent in his nose and her body taking him deep inside until he released his seed. Dammit.
With great care, he eased himself down beside her, not too close. His c**k was at a perfect right angle to his body and, built the way he was, any closer and he’d be touching her. He’d never had this particular experience before. He knew that for whatever reason, the ritual called the breh-hedden had hooked him hard and was taking him for one painful ride.
