Page 85 of Sun, Moon & Shadow

“You’re so beautiful.” His voice was an awe-filled rasp. “I’ve dreamt of taking you like this. Dreamt of your pretty cunt . . .” His words trailed off into a moan trapped low in his throat. The sounds of his pleasure inflamed her.

The exquisite feeling of him so deep inside her sent Nova plummeting over the edge, and she cried out his name, her body tightening around his cock. Callan thrusted once more, burying himself within her and finding his release with a moan that rumbled against her chest.

As they lay there, bodies still joined, Nova sifted dreamily through all the moments she had spent with him since the rainy night he appeared on her doorstep. Moments when he’d supported her, standing beside her though she’d grown accustomed to standing alone. Moments he’d made her feel safe and accepted in a world that told her she didn’t belong.

Their time together had been like the slow turning of a key, each moment shared allowing another tumbler to fall into place. Now, the lock had been opened. Her heart exposed. She knew it belonged entirely to him.

Forty-One

Time ceased to have meaning.

Callan didn’t know how long he’d been lying beside Nova on the bed; it could have been seconds, or perhaps hours. He slid off the mattress and entered the bathing chamber. Returning with a soft, wet cloth, he knelt before her again. Gently parting her knees, he ran the warm towel over her upper thighs and between her legs. She moaned appreciatively, smiling with her eyes closed. The sight of her open to him sparked his arousal, and he fought the urge to pull her close. To have her again that very moment. Releasing a slow breath, he brought her knees back together.

“Lay with me.” Nova tugged on his forearm and pulled him down onto the soft sheets beside her.

Callan rolled onto his back and tucked one hand behind his head, resting the other on his chest. Perhaps he’d died on that soldier’s blade, and this was his eternal paradise in the After Realm. He ran his fingers over the newly formed scar tissue on his side before tracing them along the soft arc of Nova’s hip.

He grinned.

No. He wasn’t dead.

Nova turned onto her side to face him, propping herself up on one arm. She touched the solid black marking on his wrist, then moved lower, her delicate fingers dancing along his right hip to the dagger inked on his thigh. His muscles tightened in response.

“Show me the one on your back,” she ordered playfully.

Callan grunted as he pushed himself up into a sitting position, resting his forearms on his bent knees. Nova shifted to kneel behind him, examining the ornate design of a sword running diagonally from his right shoulder along the length of his back, the point ending at his left hip, just above the curve of his ass.

“It’s beautiful,” she said softly, tracing the black lines. “Are these markings part of your vow to Nivali?”

“The sword and dagger ensure I’ll always have my weapons, even in death.” He turned his face toward her. “A charming custom.”

She wrapped her arms around his neck, as if needing confirmation that he was not a figment of her imagination, but warm and alive. He closed his eyes, appreciating the softness of her breasts and stomach pressed firmly against his back. He loved that she was soft in all the places he was hard. His cock stirred at the thought.

“The warriors of Nivali certainly take combat seriously.” Nova nuzzled against his neck, just below his ear, and breathed deeply. “You always smell so delicious, like the air before a snowfall.”

“I love the scent of you, too,” he said, shifting onto his hands and knees and crawling toward her, guiding her down onto her back. Lowering himself onto her once again, he rested his hips between her warm thighs. Starting at her shoulder, he planted a trail of slow kisses along her collarbone and up the side of her neck, nipping lightly at her throat. “It led me right to you.”

“And what do I smell like?” Nova asked as he peppered kisses along her jaw, making his way toward the waiting softness of her lips.

“Sweet, like vanilla, mixed with something darker. Something smoky. It’s intoxicating.”

She smiled before their lips met in a kiss, tongues exploring one another curiously. Callan broke away, rolling onto his side and drawing her to him, so their bodies lay nested with his chest at her back. Her body had changed somewhat since they’d been separated, the muscles of her arms and back firmer and more defined.

“What are you thinking about?” she asked.

“Just admiring your figure.” He pulled her tight against him.

“I’ve been training for four hours a day with Lucan.” She stretched out her arm and twisted it, inspecting the toned muscles of her forearm and bicep.

“He’s quite a character,” Callan said. “We became friends of sorts while we tracked you.”

“Did he tell you he thought I was an assassin at first? Once our training began, I think he quickly realized how wrong he’d been.” Nova chuckled, and Callan laughed along with her.

“The look on his face the first time I landed a solid punch to his jaw . . .” She broke into a fit of laughter. “The shock. And . . . outrage.”

She squeezed her eyes shut, struggling to catch her breath. Callan himself didn’t dare breathe, afraid to break whatever spell had her showing emotion so freely. He’d never seen her so expressive, apart from the anger and sorrow she’d unleashed outside the Temple of Illora. Callan watched her quietly, smiling to himself and wondering what he could possibly have done to deserve her. Nova regained her composure after a moment.

“When I bested him with a sword for the first time, he was proud.” She swiped at a tear with the back of her hand. “He’d never say it, of course. But I knew.”