Page 54 of Drawn into Oblivion

All right? How could it be? And how could he have forgotten that when the curse on him had been lifted, he would no longer be sterile? Moreover, he knew based on the short break from intimacy they’d taken a couple weeks ago that having sex today had been perfect—or rather, terrible—timing.

“But what if—”

“Just enjoy the moment,” she whispered, nuzzling him again. “We can think like rational people later.”

Good point. Nothing they could do now would change what may or may not happen. The spell he should have remembered to cast on himself before climax wouldn’t work on Mai. Her magic would protect against it. They could attempt to find the keyword women of the previous court had used—the old him had never taken the time to learn it—but by then it could be too late.

Though he couldn’t banish his disappointment with himself, he let his eyes close once more and kissed the crown of her head, content to lie there until his legs no longer felt as weak and shaky as pudding.

“Rosuke?” she softly called. He grunted to show he was listening. “I love you.” Eyes popping open, he held her close. His heart leapt and heat suffused his entire face. Even his sluggish magic perked up in reaction to the joy washing through him.

He didn’t care how possessive he looked when he pulled back to kiss her. Her lips were shut, so he opened her mouth with his thumb on her chin and crooked his arm behind her head to keep her close, to taste as much of her honeyed tongue as he could reach.

She groaned, and the sound sent delicious heat straight to his loins. He drew her body against him with his other hand on her hip and stroked her soft, silky skin from waist to buttock to thigh. By the gods, she felt so good in his arms. She writhed beneath his touch, and the restless way she cupped her hips toward him made him wild. He would do anything to sate her, worship her, love her.

Three small words had lit a fire inside him, and he was desperate to feed it until it grew to an inferno. He wanted to be closer to her, to crawl inside her. He wanted to feel her body beneath him, around him. He wanted the day to become never-ending so he could remain in that moment forever, holding and kissing her under a sun that spun at a perpetual zenith. As he slipped between her thighs once more, that was his sincerest wish.

⁂

Mai woke slowly, still groggy but too hot to fall back asleep. She shifted sluggishly, sore in places she didn’t know could get sore. Something heavy was draped over her side, and her spine ached. She wondered how she was so warm, but then someone stirred behind her—the source of the heat. Realizing the heavy weight on her waist was a man’s arm, she opened her eyes to a bedroom bathed in the red tones of sunset.

The past several hours bobbed to the surface of her mind. Memories of the afternoon she had spent in Rosuke’s arms—in his bed—were still fresh. Flashes of his impassioned face groaning her name put even more heat in her cheeks. After they’d made love a second time, she had fought back exhaustion while he’d cleaned them up, and had settled in his arms before closing her eyes. His spell had undoubtedly worn off while they’d slept, which explained the tenderness between her thighs.

“We must have been asleep a long time,” she murmured, certain he was awake. He grumbled into her hair and brought her flush against him. A stunned sigh escaped her as his erection brushed against her backside.

“I don’t want the day to end,” he said roughly, palming her breasts. The touch of his calloused fingers made her breath catch. She closed her eyes and undulated against him. She didn’t want the day to end, either.

“But the closing ceremony will begin soon. We can’t be absent. Can we?” He pressed closer, enough for her to know he was hard and ready. Surely she could get away with shirking her duties as house elder just for tonight?

“Then let us return here an hour after sunset,” he said with reluctance. “We’ll eat dinner, and then I’ll not let go of you ’til morning.”

“I’d like that.”

Of the two of them, she didn’t think he’d be the one to resist temptation—although the minute that passed before he let go and rolled away from her spoke to the depths of his struggle. While he fixed his mussed hair and dressed, Mai wiped herself down. The sight of a small streak of blood on her thigh had her blushing, and she quickly cleaned it up. She was still tying her sash into a proper bow by the time Rosuke was ready, and he helped her create one that wouldn’t make anyone think she had gotten dressed in a hurry.

Before they left, he attached his heavy sword to his waist, inspiring her to tuck her new dagger into the tight bow at her back. Then an odd sensation made her pause. Her magic had been quiet ever since they’d woken, but as soon as she stowed the dagger, it seemed to focus its attention on the blade, which seemed to resonate in response.

“Is something wrong?” Rosuke asked.

The tingle at her lower back faded almost as quickly as it’d appeared. She looked at her lover with a smile and shook her head, chalking the strange sensation up to the day’s excitement.

A moment later, they were walking down the hallway hand in hand. And despite the occasional, soft twinge reminding her of just how intimately they’d been connected, she felt luxurious from head to toe, limber and sated. She also couldn’t stop smiling, too elated by her discovery of something precious and fulfilling.

“I think today might be the first time I’ve seen you wear your hair down,” Rosuke commented, drawing her out of her happy trance. “Outside your room, that is. It really is quite long. I thought washing my hair was a chore, but…”

“It is a chore,” she agreed, “but I’ve never been able to bear the thought of cutting it.”

“Why’s that?”

“Something my mother said when I was young. One of my clearest memories of her. Dinner was simmering in a pot, and I couldn’t wait to have some. But I had just finished my bath, so my mother was brushing my hair by the cooking fire. I still remember how her hands felt on my head. Then my father came home, and he kissed us both.”

Mai glanced askance at Rosuke and saw something wistful on his face. Did he have any similar memories of his parents, even one, from an early day in their marriage before resentment had driven them apart?

“Mama said she loved combing my beautiful hair,” Mai continued, “and that she wished she never had to cut it. It would break her heart.” The last came out softly as the memory filled her. Her mother had dropped a kiss onto her head. “Papa said he could cut my hair, in that case, but that it’d look terrible. It had been a happier time, and they both laughed.”

“That’s a lovely memory,” Rosuke quietly added, squeezing her hand.

She tossed him a smile. “It is.”