“You feel that?” I growl against her shoulder, the words rough, scraped from my chest. “That’s what you do to me.”
She clenches around me, and fuck she’s tight, wet, perfect. I bend her over, my grip tightening on her waist as I drive into her harder, faster, the slap of our bodies filling the quiet room. Her breath turns to gasps, to broken sounds that shatter against the table’s surface.
Then, I brace my hands beside her, muscles straining as I push deeper still. Her cry rips through the air, and I fist a hand in her hair, pulling her head back toward me. Her throat arches, bare and trembling beneath my lips, and I press a kiss there as I keep thrusting, lost in the heat, the sound, the feel of her breaking apart beneath me.
“You’re mine,” I whisper.
And then I bite her again.
Her skin parts for me like it’s always been waiting, blood blooming warm and sweet against my tongue. The bond ignites, blazing to a blinding crescendo as she breaks apart beneath me, her release tearing through her in wild, unrestrained waves.
Her body trembles, convulsing against mine, and I hold her there, buried to the hilt, mouth sealed to her throat as her pulse flutters frantic and alive beneath my tongue.
And then I’m gone. The tension rips free from my body with a violent shudder, my release hitting hard, deep, spilling into her as my muscles seize and lock. A growl clawsits way up my throat, breaking into her name, a rough, hoarse cry torn from somewhere primal. Every nerve burns, every heartbeat caught in the same inferno as the bond seizes us both. Two stars colliding, burning, drawn together in the same consuming orbit.
Chapter 29
Amara
Though lightning still flickers in the clouds, and thunder murmurs faintly across the horizon, the worst of the storm has passed. The sea lies eerily still, black and gleaming. It feels as though the ship is gliding silently across the surface of a mirror, slipping toward Baev’kalath.
The gentle lapping of water against the hull stirs me. My eyes flutter open just as Daedalus shifts behind me. His arm tightens instinctively around my waist, pulling me against the warmth of his chest.
His lips find the back of my neck, and he exhales a slow, sleepy groan.
“Go back to sleep, wife,” he mutters at my ear, his voice gravelled with drowsy satisfaction. “There is no force in all the Sundered Kingdoms that will drag you from this bed.”
“Not even your crown?” I murmur, smiling faintly. “We must be close now.”
He groans again, louder this time, and buries his face in my hair. “Has time moved so quickly?”
“I hear that happens when you're happy,” I whisper, stroking the forearm draped over me. He responds by curling tighter around me, his legs tangling with mine.
A soft chuckle stirs against my skin. He presses another kiss to my shoulder, reverent and lingering.
“Let me enjoy this peace just a little longer,” he murmurs, “before I’m dragged back to blood and steel.”
“Does it have to be that way?” I ask, voice barely above a breath.
He goes quiet for a beat, and I know the answer before he gives it.
“You know it does, my love. Some things are worth the fight. A kingdom for my wife and child is worth everything.”
“We don’t need a kingdom,” I say gently. “We have each other. We could return to the Grove. Let the world tear itself apart if it wants to.”
His silence is heavier this time. It stretches between us like a chasm, and I feel the truth settle like a stone in my chest. I am a creature of peace and earth. He is made for battle and fire.
I feel him shift behind me. The warmth of his arm slips away, and the bed creaks as he swings his legs over the edge and sits up. His back is to me. The silence says more than any words could.
He stretches, his joints cracking, a groan slipping from him that’s just loud enough to disturb the bundle resting nearby.
He winces. “I’m sorry, my sweetheart,” he says as he leans over the cradle. “Your father is a clumsy oaf unworthy of something so perfect.”
I turn onto my back and watch him gently stroke our daughter’s cheek, the look on his face softening into something fragile.
“She’s probably hungry,” I say, voice quiet in the stillness.
He glances at me. “Want me to change her first?”
