Chapter 49 #3
I pulled Nelle upright, holding her tightly to me so her back was pressed to my front, and she wound a hand around my neck for support.
I angled her head gently toward mine so I could steal wet, dirty kisses as I thrust, shifting the pace of my strokes between maddeningly slow and pistoning fast, driving up her moans and whimpers as my hips clapped against her pert ass and the water roiled and splashed and slapped the stone.
My hand drifted downward to tease her exquisite breasts before slinking between her legs to strum my fingers over her clit, circling and pinching to tip her over the edge.
This time as Nelle orgasmed, pulsing and clenching around my cock, bending my mind inward with the intense pleasure blazing from her to me, she silently cried a name.
A name I couldn’t hear, but I could read it on her lips. And it wasn’t Crowther.
Afterward, with stupid grins and teasing touches, we washed each other with the strawberry soap she favored so much.
She sat on my lap, resting against my chest with my arms banded around her middle, my fingers drawing patterns on her belly.
Both of us were lazy and sated and wished to do nothing else but relax in each other’s company.
Nelle traced a languid trail over my arm, winding a fingertip over a line of Ukkenskrit. “Is my tale tattooed here?”
“No.” I brushed a lock of wet hair behind her ear.
“None of us had the heart to do it.” Even Kenton hadn’t wanted to inscribe Nelle’s capture on his skin.
Jett had maintained he would have if we hadn’t had to alter the tale to hide the fact we’d brought down a wyrm.
However, I’d detected the faintest trace of unease from him.
“Oh?”
Her surprise tingled beneath my skin before it mellowed into satisfaction.
I felt Nelle’s body tense before she half-twisted around on my lap. Her gaze flitted to mine, away, and then back again. She gnawed on her plump bottom lip as if unsure how to say something.
“What is it?” I asked, frowning.
“Last night you were having a nightmare.” Sympathy shone across her features as she placed a hand on the wyrm branded over my chest. “You were calling out for your mom.”
Sorrow thickened in my throat, and I was about to nod when I suddenly realized what I was looking at.
I had my very own monster hunter right here, perched on my lap.
Hope burned bright through my veins, and my tongue tripped over the words as they rushed out.
“Do you know of a Horned God called Florin?”
A notch formed between Nelle’s brows as she considered my question. The wrinkle smoothed away when she shook her head, no.
“I keep having this recurring memory from when I was a kid. I’m in this room, a lair of sorts, and it’s old and full of antiquities… A shop, I guess, selling weird things, like shrunken heads and weird body parts, rare weapons, and lethal poisons.”
“Things the witches like to fawn over?”
I nodded. “There’s this shop sign that begins with the word Purveyor. That’s all I remember.” I couldn’t see past the memory any earlier. I had no idea what had occurred before and how my mother and I had got to Florin’s lair.
Nelle swiveled forward and swept her hands back and forth through the water, ruffling the surface as she thought about it. Her nose scrunched when she turned back to me and said, “Antiquities, you say?”
“Yeah.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Like rarities?”
“A-huh.” I guess that was another way to describe them.
“Purveyor…” she breathed, mulling it over. And then she suddenly slipped off my lap. Water splashed around her as she spun around to face me. A sly look sharpened her gaze.
A jolt of excitement speared through my chest.
My little bird knew exactly where I’d been.
Nelle straddled my lap and slipped her arms on either side of me, splaying her hands on the lip of the sunken bath. The sound of her fingertips drumming against the stone rim beat through the air, right before she admitted, “I might know where you were.”
My voice rose in eagerness. “Where?”
One freckled cheek rounded as her mouth twisted into a smug smirk. “Why, I do believe you’ve been to see the Purveyor of Rarities.”
I repeated the name, “Purveyor of Rarities,” feeling out the way it rolled off my tongue. “Where is the Horned God? How can I find him?”
“I know exactly where to look.” She leveled her gaze with mine, and a bossy glint gleamed in her eyes. “Take me to Ascendria and I’ll lead you to him.”
Thank you for reading CAGED BY FALLEN CROWS - PART ONE!