Epilogue A Fortunate Feeling
Mariana
Dawn was a mere idea in the sky when I roused from slumber, swung my leg over Faren’s chest, and sat astride him.
Unlike the first time I’d woken him this way, I held no blade, and there was no clothing between us: just his sleep-warm skin under my bare thighs.
My sensitive magic—accustomed and attuned to his body—purred in my belly as I leaned forward and brushed a kiss to his throat.
Calloused hands came to my hips and slid up my waist. Faren made a sleepy sound, low and gravelly. “Good morning, Buttercup,” he mumbled, eyelashes fanning across his cheeks before fluttering open. “Where’s your knife?”
“Want me to go get it?”
He clutched my waist firmly. “Don’t you dare leave.”
Snow was falling outside the window, the world blue tinted with the fading night. Inside our room at the Possum, the fire burned low, our bodies heated by our contact. Faren brought a hand to the back of my head and kissed me languidly.
“Took you long enough to wake me like this again,” he murmured against my lips.
“Though I much prefer the lack of clothing this time.” He slid his fingers down my spine, drawing the attention of my magic.
His touch was firm and purposeful as he cupped my ass and squeezed.
“If I licked you, would you still jump off me? Or would you stay put?”
“Fates, Hayward, is it not a little early for such talk?” I teased.
“You’re the one seated on my chest,” he remarked, his voice pitching even lower and rougher as he added, “Why don’t you scoot forward, sweetheart?”
My mind went blank for a moment—then I realized what he was suggesting.
Blood rushed to my cheeks. Just the mere thought of sitting on his face made my magic rise to the surface, instantly hyperaware of the texture of the mattress beneath my knees, Faren’s chest hair scratching my inner thighs, the heat of my center meeting his skin.
A sudden shyness swept over me, one I was certain he could sense in the micro-movements of my muscles.
“I…don’t want to smother you,” I said.
His chuckle was a mere rasp in the back of his throat. “Trust me, Ana, I can imagine worse ways to die.”
I poked his shoulder. “You have to stop making jokes about that.”
“My greatest Fortune”—he bounced his eyebrows—“is also my Death, remember? Perhaps you can make my Fate come true a second time.”
“Faren,” I chided.
He slid his palms over my thighs. “Please,” he whispered. “I want to taste you. It’s a crime that I haven’t yet.”
Not a crime. I’d been avoiding this on purpose.
I bit my lip and shifted my gaze to the window, watching the snowflakes drift down in the ethereal glow of morning. I was unable to look him in the eye when I admitted, “The truth is, I’ve never let anyone…” I trailed off, thoroughly embarrassed.
“Mariana, look at me.” His tone was kind. Patient.
I looked at him, so pretty beneath me.
“Never?” he clarified.
“With my magic, I always assumed it would be too much.”
His lips parted with understanding. “Would you like to give it a try?”
We’d slept together countless times in Fenrir City and on the road. While my magic had grown accustomed to him, and he’d learned how to read me well enough to intuit when a touch was becoming too intense versus when I wanted more, I was still reticent. Uncertain.
Yet his patience now reminded me of our first time. No expectations or aim—just us, discovering what pleasure we could make together.
I felt safe with Faren; therefore, I felt liberated to be myself. I decided this was another sensation I wanted to explore together.
A coy smile twisted my lips. “I would.” Then I rushed to add, “But I don’t mind lying down so I don’t—”
He smiled up at me, warm and easy. “You get less overwhelmed when you’re on top and in control,” he reminded me gently. “Besides, I want it like this, too.”
His fingers pressed into my thighs, encouraging me forward.
I acquiesced, inching my way up until I hovered over his sternum, my knees on either side of his face, my shins resting on his shoulders.
I was already wet with the promise of him, my body tense with anticipation, aching for stimulation, just shy of overwhelm.
“I wasn’t kidding about not wanting to smother you,” I said, giving him one last chance to change his mind.
“You won’t,” he assured me. “Now grip the headboard and ride me like you do so well.”
I bit my lip again, harder this time, drawing my magic’s attention to the point of mild pain.
Then, as he suggested, I clutched the headboard to steady myself.
I eased down slowly, flinching when Faren’s mouth made contact.
His lips were wet and warm against my center, his chin scratchy with stubble.
I canted my hips tentatively, testing the sensation.
He groaned eagerly against me, arms snaking around my thighs.
But he did not try for more. He took the barest contact that I gave him, allowing me to lead.
I moved slowly at first, bracing for my magic to swamp me with sensitivity, but it never happened. This was…gentler than I’d anticipated. Softer and slicker. His tongue flicked out to taste me more deeply, and—oh.
My head dropped back, chills racing down my spine.
A breathy sound slipped out of me, and Faren did the same thing again, reading my body’s cues like a language only he knew.
I ground against him, losing myself for a moment—then I glanced down, making sure he could still breathe.
His eyes were closed, brow furrowed with concentration, and Fates I could get used to the sight of him between my legs like this.
Misreading my pause, Faren glanced up. “Is this…?”
“Incredible.”
Hands clutched my thighs harder, rocking me firmly against his face. His words were muffled and heady. “You taste”—Faren licked into me again, making me shiver—“divine.”
“Oh,” I sighed. “Ohhh.” Pleasure swelled in my belly, tingling with magic. I was almost— I was so— I— “Faren,” I keened.
His fingers pressed into my legs, grinding me against his mouth—harder than I would’ve dared.
He made an encouraging sound, a gratified hum that vibrated up into me.
Then I was breaking apart on his face: back arching, legs trembling, floating out of myself even as my body became heavy with release.
My thighs lost their strength, and I melted, momentarily uncaring—in my haze of pleasure—whether or not I blocked his airway.
Then I returned to myself, adjusting so that I sat on his sternum. I lowered my forehead to the edge of the headboard, breathing hard. “Are you alive?”
“I don’t know,” Faren replied, pressing a kiss to my inner thigh. “I think I might’ve passed on to the next realm.”
My body shook with a silent laugh.
“How are you?” he asked.
“I might also be dead. Seems unlikely that life could be this good.”
“Careful, my ego,” he warned, then smirked. “Want to see if life can get even better?”
“What did you have in mind?”
He wrapped my hips in a hug and turned, rearranging me—us—until I was on my back, and he was positioned above me, hands caging me in, hips aligned with mine.
He stared down at me with pure devotion, holding us on the precipice of something great, and I couldn’t help but wonder at how we’d gotten here, the twists and turns that led to this perfect moment.
The Fate of the realm was yet undecided, but its outcome was no longer our burden to bear.
Time would unfurl as it would—as it always did: tragic, glorious, and uncertain—and we would be here, making the most of it. Joyful, loving, and free.
As Faren pushed into me, stretching me, filling me, I was overcome by the pleasure of experiencing everything—all of it—so thoroughly. My magic swirled and sparkled beneath my skin, feeling, feeling, feeling.