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I shuddered against him as he pulled my hips down, this time sliding a finger into me as he licked and sucked. He pumped gently, and I rode his hand shamelessly as I chased down a second release, not worrying about our bond or the demon magic or anything for a few glorious moments of pure pleasure.
He caught me around the waist as shudders wracked my body, flipping us over and kissing me deeply. The taste of me on his lips was a sinful torment, and he slid into me as his tongue tangled with mine. I wrapped my legs around him, trying to get closer and feel more, and he pulled me into him as if trying to oblige. One arm snaked behind my back, pulling our chests flush as he thrust deeper into me, pumping a steady rhythm in time with his kisses as I moaned beneath him.
“Elara,” he gritted out, spilling into me with a groan as he pressed his face into my neck. I held him there, feeling my body quivering around his. The regret and shame I knew I should feel didn’t come. Just something akin to peace and fullness, and aching desperate need.
“I need more,” I said, sliding my hand between my legs and stroking, feeling raw sensation shudder out through me as he withdrew himself from me. He huffed a laugh, kissing down my neck and sliding his own hand down to meet mine.
“My greedy little witch,” he purred, wrapping his other arm around me tightly. “Allow me to satisfy you,” he added, thrusting two fingers into me as I stroked myself. He pumped them gently, making me writhe against his hand as I sought another release, all the while kissing me and drawing delicious sensations from between my legs. The final release was softer somehow, and I shuddered against him, feeling his fingers still in me as I unraveled.
“Gods,” he said hoarsely, withdrawing his hand, which glistened with a combination of us. “I’m going to call that experiment a roaring success.”
He kissed me again, then rolled off the bed and strode toward the adjoining bathing chamber, returning with a towel. I had a strange sense of deja vu as he cleaned me up, caring for me as tenderly as he had the first time we had been together.
“Stay,” he commanded, raising a brow at me as he tossed the towel to a corner of the room and climbed back into the bed, folding me into his arms.
We were silent for a while, and I lay there, warm and content and feeling that pull humming in satisfaction within me, trying to decide what I should say. I supposed it didn’t really matter. What was done was done, and Carnon seemed content to lie in silence, stroking my arm idly as he counted freckles.
“What do these mean?” I asked, gliding a finger over the tattoos that spread across his chest and shoulders.
Carnon made a sound like contentment, pointing to the circle with the half moon on top of it. “This is the sign of the Horned God,” he said quietly, one hand still absently circling the freckles on my bare arm as he pointed with the other. “It appeared the day I became King. It’s one reason I knew that the previous king had died.”
“And these?” I asked, flattening my palm over what looked like words on his chest.
“It’sthe Charge of the Horned God,” he said. “Written in the old tongue.”
“Can you read it?” I asked, looking up to meet his serpentine eyes. He smiled down at me, both a little bemused and disbelieving.
“After what we just did,” Carnon said wryly, “I’d rather thought you’d be raging at me for seducing you with demonic lust magic. Not asking about my tattoos.”
“I can rage if you prefer,” I said, raising my brows at him. I didn’t need to tell him why the anger and shame wasn’t there this time. The fact that I knew we were mates made it seem inevitable that I would end up in his bed. Maybe I should just let myself enjoy it.
He smiled, kissing my nose tenderly. “I am the wild hunter of the forest deep, and I am the fire upon the hill, and I am the sower of the seed, and the tiller of the soil of the earth.” He paused, his deep voice soothing as he continued the prayer. “I am the golden warrior whose arrows are the shafts from the sun. The thunder is my hoof fall. The wilderness is my shrine. I wield the oaken staff, the elements at my call. By day I am the sun, by night I ride upon the wild winds.” He stopped again, squeezing me gently. “There’s more,” he added, “but it’s very long and pompous.”
“Perfect for you then,” I quipped, earning a wry grin and a kiss.
“Indeed,” he agreed. “Are you really not horrified by what happened yesterday?”
“Yesterday?” I asked, panicked that he somehow knew what I had discovered.
“In the throne room,” Carnon said, frowning at me a little. “I half thought you’d be running for the hills after my little display.”
“It wasn’t pleasant,” I agreed, frowning in thought as I continued to trace the whorls and loops of the intricate tattoo. “I suppose I was horrified a bit.”
“You hid it well,” Carnon said wryly, his own caress mapping each of the visible freckles on my arms.
“I saw my grandmother kill a witch at a Coven meeting,” I said, meeting his eyes. “She was accused of consorting with demons, and my grandmother ripped out her heart.”
“Gods,” Carnon breathed, looking horrified himself.
“Did you ever meet any other witches in the Bloodwood?” I asked, remembering that I had meant to ask him about this witch. “Other than me and the Hag, I mean?”
Carnon shook his head with a frown. “No, why?”
“It doesn’t matter,” I sighed, studying his chest and deciding to worry about it later. “Anyway, what you did was different. You had evidence. And he killed someone. It was barbaric, but it was just, in a way.”
Carnon raised a brow at me, looking like he wasn’t quite sure I was real. “What changed, Red?”
“Hmm?” I asked, looking up at him and seeing his gaze intent on my face.
