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“Then make me understand, Cal.”
I stopped fighting myself the moment he crashed into me, the force so great that I was sure the earth shuddered beneath us as his mouth collided with mine. Agony was evident in each of his movements, his need quickly settling into every part of me. Calloused hands ran frantically over my body, his fingertips tracing the invisible scars he’d left.
He pulled away suddenly, holding my face in his hands as he searched my eyes so fervently that had my heart stopped in my chest, I would have faded away knowing that I’d borne witness to need in its rawest form. The center of my soul was laid bare for him to see, and he drank it in like rainfall in the desert.
My body surrendered fully to the man who was supposed to be my enemy, the man whose dagger had been at my back countless times. My mind surrendered to the man who’d done what he believed to be right, the man who only acted on his duty to protect the realm he served. And my soul surrendered to the man who never was, the man I’d mourned.
And there was peace in me as I realized I no longer had to mourn him because he was here. The man he was and wasn’t and would one day be, he washere.
Miles had been right. In choosing Cal, I was choosing myself.
He gripped my hair, wrenching my head back to claim my exposed throat with his tongue. A moan escaped my lips and he tensed at the sound, a hand running down my thigh and hiking it to his hip, the feel of his arousal pressing hard against me. He groaned into my neck, pulling my hips closer, closer,closer. I wrapped myself around him, his hands roving every inch of me with a hunger that permeated my core. And I knew that I’d let him consume me, let him destroy me if that’s what he desired.
His mouth broke away from mine, our foreheads still pressed together, our bodies hopelessly tangled. “Petra.”
I reached for the fasteners on the front of his leathers, fumbling to loosen them. One hand landed on mine, making quick work of the buckles and straps as his other arm clutched me to him. The leather fell to the ground as I clawed at the tunic beneath, dragging it over his head, relishing the feel of the planes of his chest under my hands. He was here. He was here and he was alive.
Then I saw it — his left arm was covered in tattooed flames from wrist to shoulder. I ran my hand up and down his arm, marveling at the ink I’d never seen before. “This is new,” I whispered.
I felt his eyes on me as I stared at his arm. “You had your fire all along, even if you hadn’t found it yet,” he murmured. “I wasn’t going to let Castemont extinguish it, even if he managed to kill you.” The backs of my eyes pricked with tears. “I wanted to keep your flames with me.” I looked at him, his eyes brimming with truth. “I wanted to keep you with me.” He looked down to his other arm. “Looks like I’ll need to add storm clouds now, too.”
Words failed me. The words simply did not exist to describe the feeling that washed over me. He let my feet hit the sandy riverbank, his eyes holding my stare as he reached for the ties at my collar, pulling and tugging at the cords that kept us apart. Frustration lined his face for a split second before he gripped the cloth in both hands and tore, the sound of ripping fabric echoing through the forest as my tunic fluttered to the ground.
His stare was merciless, more animal than man as he beheld me, the rising moonlight illuminating my skin like spun silver. His hands reached greedily for me again, our bodies falling together like no time had passed, like we were exactly where we were supposed to be. I shivered as his mouth traveled from my lips to my neck, ravenous in his pursuit to make me catch fire, heat pooling between my legs as his tongue continued down my body. Every nerve in my body sang as his fingers found their way to the waistband of my trousers.
Insatiable and eager, he worked the fabric from my body, tossing my trousers to the side before he gripped my chin with a force that made the breath catch in my throat. He let go only long enough to finish undressing himself, his eyes never leaving mine. But I broke his stare to look over his body, at the skin that I’d dreamt of so many times, at the part of me that he’d tattooed on his skin and the muscles that rippled beneath it, at the length of him, tempting and rigid. He was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.
We were each both predator and prey, aggressor and victim. I wrapped my legs around him once again as he so easily lifted me from where I stood, my feet hooking behind his back. Molten, turbulent eyes stayed on me as he reached between us, guiding himself around the slickness that so impatiently awaited him.
“I want to understand,” I whispered, taking a sharp breath in. “Please, make me understand.”
He thrust into me where we stood, my core seizing with pleasure at the feel of something so familiar, somethingso fucking right. Birds flew from the trees as we found each other again, screams and groans and howls and wingbeats rippling through the forest like a symphony that had only ever played in a distant dream. His lips were demanding against mine, the feel of him thrusting in and out sending me into a state of ecstasy as he pushed me closer and closer to the edge.
My feet hit the ground, my body going cold in his absence only for a moment as he laid back and pulled me toward him, prying my knees apart as I lowered myself to straddle his hips on the bank of the stream. Inch by beautiful inch, I let him in, the breath leaving my lungs as I slowly rocked back and forth. Strong palms squeezed at my hips before one hand worked its way between my legs, playing me like a damned fiddle, his gaze locked so intently on mine that the Saints themselves couldn’t have torn us apart.
Until yesterday, I’d been able to heal my wounds from teeth and steel. I’d been able to heal my gashes and breaks and bruises. But every movement he made deeper and deeper within me healed a part of me that I was never able to. Every pulse of his body against mine was a jagged piece of my shattered heart finding its way back to where it belonged. His every breath returned life to the dead and damaged parts of me.
It was a good thing my powers were gone, because had I had them, I would have burned the forest to the fucking ground.
My head dropped back, release thundering through me like a herd of kelpies rising from the depths. His hands squeezed harder as I grinded against him, suddenly reaching for my face and pulling me to him while the last of my climax roiled through me.
“I’m sorry,” he breathed into me. I pulled back far enough to stare at him. My mind had melted into nothing but pure ecstasy, but I gave him a nod as I finally admitted it to myself.
I understood. I couldn’t forgive, at least not yet, and I’d never forget. But I understood.
As if it were a silent command, he unleashed, fingers flexing against my back as he pounded into me beneath the canopy of trees and stars. My eyes rolled back as he once again pushed me toward that brilliant summit. Moving beneath me, I watched his eyes close as he fell over the edge, legions of fury and yearning and anguish releasing in this pinnacle moment between us. The thought of it alone was enough to send me careening over with him, his groans resounding through me as I fell. The forest could have burst into flames around us and I’d never notice. We were the only two beings to exist in the world.
Chest to heaving chest, his arms wrapped around me, holding me firmly to him, a gratified sigh leaving him as a hand tangled in my hair.
“Can I ask you something?” I whispered. Something snarled nearby, but neither of us flinched, too lost in each other to notice.
“Anything.”
“Do you still love me?” I couldn’t look him in the eye. I felt stupid asking. But he pulled me to face him, his thumb dancing gently over my chin.
“I knew I was going to fall in love with you the day I met you by the harbor,” he started. “And I was right. I never stopped, Petra. Until the oceans rise so high that they drown the sky above us, until the last star is swallowed by the tide, my soul is yours.” My breath caught in my throat at his words, at the way his mouth curved around each one. “When the Saints call on me, I’ll be sure to fall at their feet and beg forgiveness for the sins I’ve committed against you. And if they decide to punish me for those sins, Petra, I’ll take every blow, every strike, and I’ll take them gladly. I’d suffer an eternity of the Saints’ retribution if that’s the cost of this moment.” He let out a deep breath. “Yes, I still love you. I don’t think I could ever stop. It’s always been you, and it’ll always be you. Unceasingly you, Petra.”
Tears threatened to spill from my eyes. I couldn’t believe we were here, couldn’t believe that this moment was actually happening, but I finally managed a whisper. “I love you.”
