My mouth goes dry. It’s all I can do to manage a throaty “yes” as she dips a hand under my waistband and rubs it against my clit. I shiver, oversensitive and still coming back to myself. Before I can say anything else, she pulls her hand toward her mouth, sucking the fingers. I’m not sure whether to be turned on or mortified. Either way, I’m too exhausted to do anything but stare at her.
“Delicious,” she says.
I bury my face in her chest again, pulling myself close. Rarely have I ever had a real connection with someone. With Gillia, it’s not only about our sexual chemistry—which is off the charts—but a deep, inexplicable sense of belonging. Though I’m too tired to examine that thought right now.
Gillia grabs the blanket from her side and pulls it over us. It’s only a matter of seconds before my eyelids become heavy and I drift off to sleep again.
Chapter
Six
GILLIA
Idon’t want her to leave. Not just my bed or my tree, but my life.
Technically, I could use my charms to force her to stay. It’s not something dryads do often these days, but it wasn’t long ago that it was the norm. Luring humans away from the trails and into the wilderness, seducing them, and keeping them has been how my ancestors propagated over the centuries.
The old ways have fallen out of fashion—for obvious reasons—but the knowledge is still at the forefront of our minds. These days, the only time I use my abilities is if the forest is in danger. Even that is a bit of a gray area. Some things are meant to happen. Too much interference harms the natural order of things.
I wouldn’t do that—not to anyone, but especially not to Sadie. If she stays, it has to be because it’s what she desires. All I can do is hope that when the snow melts, she needs me as much as I need her. This morning was a good start, the two of us coming together in my bed. I didn’t expect it when I woke up to findher running her hands along my skin, but I’m not complaining either—far from it. If anything, I’m looking forward to a repeat performance.
“Come back to bed.” I leave off the words I want to add to the end, calling hermy love. Humans aren’t as attuned to their emotions. Calling her by any nickname seems like the type of thing I should save for later, even if I’m pretty sure she feels the growing connection between us, too. How could she not when we were so close together?
“Give me a moment,” Sadie says as she digs through her backpack. I’m amazed at all the little things she keeps pulling from it. A treasure-trove of items she insists she needs. Most of it is ridiculous, considering she has my protection. However, I wouldn’t say no to more of the trail mix.
I don’t know how we’ve managed to sleep this much. Since Sadie got here, we’ve done little besides lie in bed.
Well, that’s not entirely true. Between naps and chatting, we’ve spent plenty of time appreciating each other on a more intimate level. Each time we come together, Sadie becomes bolder, exploring my body with more confidence. It’s a wonder she’s not afraid of me at all. Or taken aback by my appearance. Humans don’t have a reputation for being the kindest creatures. I’ve overheard enough conversations from travelers over the years to know they’ve earned that designation. I always assumed that if I made myself visible, there would be serious consequences. Aside from their unwillingness to believe I exist, they might be repulsed by my form. Not being human has its drawbacks, especially when it comes to attracting a mate. I hear stories all the time from other dryads about approaching someone, only for them to run away screaming.
All my fears hung in the balance when I first appeared to Sadie, waiting for her rejection. Instead, I’ve received nothing but warmth and acceptance.
Outside, the snow has finally stopped—a welcome respite in the ongoing winter. There’ll be more, but at least for the next few days, things will calm down. The wind has shifted direction, and the air has cleared. It’s too cold for much of it to melt, but at least we’re going to get a break.
“What are you doing?” I roll on my side, propping my head up on my hand. I miss my bedmate. There are so many things I haven’t gotten the opportunity to try yet, and I’m hoping to get through the whole list before the snow starts to melt.
“Um…” Her face turns a shade of beet red that only makes me more curious. “I wanted to clean up a little.” She holds up a pink packet. Unable to hold back, I walk over and kneel in the dirt next to her.
“With this?” I take the packet from her. The front is open, the scent of chemicals seeping out. It’s disgusting. Worse, it will hide her natural, intoxicating scent. “No.” There’s no way she’s walking around here smelling likethat. Not when I have plans to have my mouth on her later today.
“Please? I feel gross.”
I almost argue. She looks radiant here in my home, her chestnut hair pulled up in a messy bun. She’s shucked most of her clothes in favor of a pair of light pants and a nearly see-through t-shirt. If anything, she looks better than when she arrived, though some of that might be due to her health. I wouldn’t mind keeping her like this, but from the pained look on her face, I can tell it’s upsetting her. “This is important to you?”
“Yes, very.”
“Okay. Come with me.”
We pause so she can put on the thick layers necessary to brave the cold. I already hate having her bundled up; none of her soft skin is available to gaze at or touch. The faster we move through the forest, the sooner I can strip her down again. Maybe I’ll get lucky and get her out of all those clothes. I’ve onlygotten glimpses of the creamy flesh beneath all the fabric. When she’s changed, I’m already turned away to give her privacy, because that’s what she wants. Hopefully, once she feels more comfortable with me, that will change.
As the tree parts, we step outside. Sadie keeps glancing over but doesn’t say anything. The fact that she trusts me so inherently is a heady sensation. As many questions as I know are swirling in her mind, she still follows me through the deep snow without hesitation.
With every step, the snow crunches beneath our feet in concert with the hushed whispers of the trees nearby, all gossiping about my companion. I do my best to ignore all the noise, refusing to let them get to me. They’ll hear from me when—if—there is something to tell. Until then, I prefer to keep my private life private.
Occasionally, Sadie looks at branches, her nose wrinkled. It’s only at ones that make particularly vulgar remarks. Once again, I find myself wondering if she can hear them. Maybe “hear” isn’t the right word, since she’s not quite listening. It’s as though she can sense the vibes more than the actual words. It’s fascinating and lends credence to my belief that she is meant for me.
I lead her around a few bends until the trickle of water becomes louder. The surface of the stream is a thick, shiny layer of ice, with only a small bit at the edge that’s melted. As soon as it comes into view, Sadie stops.
“Oh, that won’t work. The water is way too cold. I’ll freeze to death within seconds.”
