Page 208 of Revels on an Angel’s Grave

He watched her with love-drunk eyes, like he hungered for control but was willing to give her anything.

Emmeline straddled Roremar, keeping only an inch of space between them, hands planted on his chest.

“You’re sure?” he whispered, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear, palm resting against her cheek.

She nodded. “You said you wouldn’t stop until you got me.” Emmeline lowered, sliding against his length. They both breathed heavily, his hands tightening on her hips. “I’m here, Roremar. I’m where I belong.”

Gripping his shaft, he lined himself up with her entrance, and Emmeline slowly sank down.

“Holy fucking Fates, Huntress,” he swore as she took him further. “You feel so fucking good.”

Emmeline nodded, mouth dropping open though she couldn’t form a word. Roremar gripped her thighs, rubbing soothing patterns as she took him.

She stretched around him, full from this angle. The fit was so tight, she thought they’d both combust before he was all the way in.

The Fatesworn bond they claimed beat between them, that connection in her chest thrumming. It was an incessant, demanding pleasure that spread through her body with each inch, unceasing and unquenchable.

It was everything they were, their two fates once a singular star in the sky, a legend that sought through centuries and realms to rewrite itself at their hands.

Made for one another, no matter what ominous darkness swirled between the stars overhead, no matter whom they angered with this.

At the thought, Emmeline slammed down. She cried out at the pleasure, taking a minute to adjust.

“Fucking divine,” Roremar said, voice on the verge of losing it already. It only wound her need tighter.

Emmeline rolled her hips, and Roremar matched the pace she set. Her clit pressed against him, so sensitive from her first two orgasms that she nearly came again at the contact. Roremar groaned when she fluttered around him.

She leaned forward, finding his lips while her hands explored his body, and she took everything she wanted.

“Say it again,” Roremar begged.

Emmeline linked her fingers through his, and she repeated, “I love you.”

And as he had at Wisteria Falls, she told him exactly why as her body moved against his, their eyes locked. “I love you for seeing me, and I love you for making me feel safe after so many years of being scared and alone. I love you for pushing past every barrier I kept up, but also for knowing and respecting when I needed time.” Her hips circled faster, the Fatesworn bond incessant. “I love you for your obsession with puzzles, and for how you see the world, for how you want to fix broken things. I love you because you hear me when I can’t speak, when I’m silently screaming, you know. I love how deeply and unabashedly you love, me and everyone in your life, and how you don’t let me run.” Her chest ached with each word. “Fates, thank you for not letting me run.”

Roremar sat up, gripping the back of her neck and slamming his lips against hers, swallowing the rest of her confession. Their sweat soaked skin slid against each other.

“Thank you,” he breathed.

“What?”

“Thank you for loving me in spite of everything I’ve done.”

Emmeline shook her head. “I don’t love you in spite of those things. I love the man your scars make you.”

At that, Roremar lost the last strings of his control. He flipped them so Emmeline was on her back, cradled carefully among their discarded clothes.

She gasped as she landed, but Roremar was already pushing back into her with relentless need. His body was strong atop hers, every stroke of his tongue as he kissed her, every tug of her hair commanding. The feel of his skin against hers was enough to drive her wild, his eyes on hers the most intimate thing she could imagine.

Starfire climbed the walls around them. Rubble quivered in the air.

“Please,” she pleaded against his lips as he pounded into her.

“Such a good girl,” he panted, one elbow braced beside her head, his other hand tight on her hip. “Begging for me for all the stars to see.”

As he pulled back and sank forward again, he pressed a kiss to her shoulder. Her neck. Her temple. Each one solidified this bond.

She was breathless, already climbing higher. Her nails dug into his shoulders as she gasped, clinging to whatever part of him she could⁠—