"Rexxan," I repeat, his praise like a soft blanket coating my skin as he drives into me again. Any remnants of control he had left shatter, the headboard slamming into the wall. "Fuck, fuck,fuck," he repeats, his voice rough.
I snap my eyes to his. "Give me everything," I breathe, in a trance-like state as his fingers entwine with mine.
I’m too lost in him. This is so muchmore.
“Anything, Ren. I'd give you anything,” he states, like it’s the easiest thing in the world. The sheer need in his voice has me tumbling over the precipice again. With two more rough thrusts, my name leaves his lips in a forbidden prayer. I love that he's vocal. He stills, his forehead dropping to mine as I feel him shatter inside me for what feels like both forever and not long enough.
Our chests heave in perfect time. I have no energy to speak, but I don’t need to. I know that was as good for him as it was for me.
"Rexxan!" I whisper-shout, sticking my finger in a huge crack across the wooden headboard. I slam a pillow in his face when he gives me a very pleased-with-himself grin, looking far younger than his years. How I'm going to explain this one to Espan, I'm not sure. I don’t have the energy to think about it. All I have the energy to do is fall asleep buried in his arms.
Chapter21
‘Busy’ (Renna)
"Idon't like that he spends nights in your room, Renna," grumbles a particularly fractious Onyx, sharpening his swords once I'd run a hundred of my hunters through some archery training. I ache, and it's nothing to do with the mountain climb.
Two weeks. Two glorious weeks since the day Rex found out what I was. Fourteen sensational nights filled with unspeakable sins with the Forest King. Yesterday Onyx suggested I get Lynna to examine my leg injuries again because I was limping slightly when I woke up.
I didn’t tell him why I was limping.
"Onyx, we're adults."
"I know, but all the Kings in the past were obsessed with the idea of having a sorceress in their bed. Why the sudden interest now he knows who you are?"
Better not tell him I fucked Rexxan long before he knew what I was. Onyx would kill Rexxan, and then me. And then himself, probably, just to erase that knowledge from his brain. "You know, it's possible that someone might just like me for who I am."
"I didn't mean it like that."
"He's just looking out for me."
"But I could do that for you."
"I want you to be able to relax for once," I say. I can see it in his eyes, finally understanding now. He's lost. If he isn't watching me or working, he's not sure what to do. Now Rexxan spends more time with me, Onyx isn't sure of his purpose. "Why don’t you walk with Lynna when she asks you?”
"What am I supposed to do with her?" He asks, flipping his sword to sharpen the other edge, pale orange sparks flying over his battered hands.
"Walk? And talk? Tell her about yourself and let her tell you about herself. She has some amazing stories, Onyx. She's survived all the ages."
"I'm not much of a talker, and what's there to say, anyway?" He states, as if it’s not really a question. A frown mars his handsome face as he twirls his sword around his huge hand, slashing it round him. "She's more interested in Stell."
"She isn't! Use your brain," I plead, standing on my tiptoes to shake him by the shoulders. Stellan grins, watching our exchange with a huntress practically hanging off each arm.
"To be fair, O, when I took her on a walk she asked me about three questions about myself and then fifty questions about you."
Beside me and the stupid smile on my face, Onyx shows no emotion. "I don't want or need distractions in my life."
My heart sinks from its position in the clouds, landing with a splat on the stone ground beneath us. I don't know how I'll ever get him out of this. I wonder sometimes if I had just died fifty years ago, his life would've been so much better.
Sometimes, when it's just us, I see the real him. He's so sharp, and funny too. He’s clever. Astoundingly clever, in fact, but it gets overlooked just because he doesn’t know how to write. But I see the real Onyx less and less nowadays. He doesn't even speak of his dreams to be a guard and a father anymore.
"Onyx, you are coming to the inn with us tonight, and you are having a drink."
"No."
"Please!" I say, twirling around him with Stellan. We look like two massive crabs having some sort of dance-based emotional breakdown, but it works.
A small smile crosses my brother’s face. "One drink."
