Chapter 37
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Mason’s release came in a powerful wave he couldn’t outrun. He gave in to the fire, the devastating need to be hers with one final thrust. Then he broke apart with a raw shout, helpless against the way her body pulled him in—tight, relentless, and achingly intimate.
When he finally came back into his body, he looked down at Rowen.
Her strawberry blond tresses were spread out around her, stark against the navy sheets.
Her eyes fluttered open, and he stared into her pale blue depths.
It had been risky giving her just this one night, because he had known for some time that he wanted more.
But he would rather have one night than never know what it was to claim her body.
He lowered his head and brushed his lips over hers.
Her body clenched around him once more, causing him to groan and rock his hips.
She answered with a moan of her own. He would give up every ounce of his magic if he could stop time and hold on to what was left of the night to have more time with her.
Her lips curved into a sexy smile as she tenderly touched his face. “Wow,” she whispered.
He knew exactly how she felt. What’d happened between them was…
he didn’t have words for the visceral, intimate, and utterly carnal meeting of their bodies.
All he knew was that it was rare and extraordinary, something that few ever experienced.
He couldn’t understand how she could walk away from something like that. Because he certainly couldn’t.
Mason took her hand and kissed her inner wrist before softly pressing his mouth to her forehead, nose, and lastly, her lips. “I’m glad you came into my room.”
“Me, too.”
Their bodies were still joined. He was loath to break the connection, but he was cognizant of his weight on her.
Reluctantly, he pulled out and rolled onto his back.
As he did, she moved onto her side and propped her head up with her hand.
He met her gaze and touched a lock of hair that a moonbeam caught through the edge of the blinds.
He could tell her about the wake or ask her about her evening, but he didn’t want to talk.
Not yet. Not after such an earth-shattering moment.
He pulled her against his chest, and they lay in comfortable silence until Rowen’s stomach grumbled with hunger.
Her nose wrinkled as she dropped onto her back.
“Did you not eat?” he asked.
“I couldn’t.”
A note of disquiet in her voice had caught his attention. Something had happened while he was out. She would’ve called him had it been serious. Or would she have?
Mason propped himself up with a hand and looked down at her, wondering if he should push her to tell him. “Let’s get you something to eat. You need your energy, because the night isn’t over, and I’m not done with you yet.”
He sat up and held out his hand to her. A heartbeat later, she took it.
He pulled her up. His gaze lingered on her stunning body—perfect breasts, the indent of her waist, and the sensual swell of her hips—as she headed to the door.
He followed her, torn between wanting her again and wanting to know what bothered her.
They moved about the kitchen, the darkness broken only by the bright light of the fridge when the door opened. She munched on some soft cheese spread over a fresh piece of bread. When she offered him a slice, he accepted.
“I had a visitor,” she calmly said after a few minutes.
Mason stilled, the bread halfway to his mouth. He watched her across the island, looking for minute emotions, but she gave nothing away. “And whom might that have been?”
“Edie.”
Surprise jolted through him as he lowered the hand holding the snack to the island. “She came to the cottage?”
“Sort of. I went out for a walk, and she found me out there.”
“Why didn’t you call me?” he demanded, angry and upset that she had been here alone. “Or someone? Did she hurt or threaten you? What did she want?”
Rowen put her hand atop his arm and looked into his eyes. “I’m fine. She didn’t threaten me, and I didn’t call because I needed time to sort through what she said.”
“And what was that?”
Rowen took a long drink of water before she answered. “She’s convinced she’s working with the Ancients to make a new world order of Druids. She said they have chosen me to join them.”
“Bloody hell,” he murmured and sat on the barstool next to her. His mind was in turmoil, thinking of all the things that could’ve gone wrong. The thought of losing Rowen was incomprehensible. Finally, he looked into her eyes. “What did you tell her?”
“Nothing. She told me to think about it, and that the Ancients would contact me.”
He ran a hand down his face. “Fuck. They’re going to contact you. So, you did hear a voice?”
“Seems so,” she murmured. “I have a feeling I don’t have long to make a decision.”
“What happens if you refuse their offer?”
She shrugged and looked at the half-eaten slice of bread. “I’m not sure.”
Mason tucked a strand of hair behind her ear so he could better see her face. He knew exactly how these supposed ancients would react, and it wouldn’t be pretty. “This decision is solely yours. Just because you brought me to the isle and are staying here doesn’t mean you’ve chosen a side.”
Her eyes lifted to his. “You believe Edie is working with the Ancients?”
“I don’t know who or what Edie is working with, but it isn’t the Ancients. I have the privilege of knowing Ferne and Carlyle, which means I trust what they’ve been through. Saying that, I’d be cautious of taking everyone at their word without seeing things myself if I didn’t know them.”
Rowen turned in the seat to face him. “I don’t have a decision to make, because I already chose a side. I stand with you and the others.”
Relief poured through Mason. He hadn’t realized until she said the words how worried he had been about her choice. He cupped her face and kissed her. Now, he had a new fear. Edie wasn’t done with Rowen, and neither were the false Ancients.
Those thoughts scattered like the wind when Rowen’s hand wrapped around his shaft and began to stroke it.
Heat surged straight to his cock. His body responded instantly, thickening with need.
He slid his fingers around the back of her neck as the kiss turned urgent, fiery.
Her hand worked him into a frenzy of need within moments.
He stood, dragging her with him. She dropped to her knees and looked up at him before her lips enveloped him.
She took him in with a confidence that stole his breath.
The first glide of her mouth on him sent a jolt of white-hot pleasure straight to his core.
His hands fisted in her hair as every muscle drew taut, and liquid heat ran down his spine.
Her mouth was warm and wet—and maddeningly slow. Every lick undid him.
He tried to savor each languid pull, but his hips betrayed him.
A low groan slipped past his lips as she hollowed her cheeks.
The physical pleasure reached heights he had never touched before, but it was more than that.
It was Rowen. The way she watched him, the hunger in her gaze, as if he were hers to unravel. The fire that burned inside her.
The way she drew her tongue along his length as if she knew exactly how close he was to breaking.
His heart thundered in his chest. Desire coiled so tightly it bordered on pain, but still, she took her time, driving him closer to the edge with each torturous stroke of her velvety tongue.
Her hand reached his base as her mouth worked him deeper. The sight of her lips wrapped around him was a fantasy come to life. His control hung by a thread that was quickly unraveling.
“Rowen,” he called, shocked by the rough sound of his voice. “I’m too close,” he warned.
She kept at it, sucking, licking, touching. He tightened his fingers in her hair, but he couldn’t make himself pull her away. It felt too good.
Then she moaned—moaned—around him. The release ripped through him like a detonation, pleasure crashing in waves so intense his legs nearly buckled.
He gripped the island to stay upright as she licked him clean. Still panting from such a wild orgasm, he pulled her to her feet and seized her mouth for a passionate kiss full of emotion he couldn’t put into words.
Mason set her on the island and stood between her legs. He didn’t dare look at the clock because that would give time power over him, and right now was their time. If it was all he had with her, then he would grasp every minute.
“I wasn’t finished with you,” she said as he kissed down her neck.
He lifted his head to look at her. “It’s my turn now.”
Her mouth parted as her eyes flared with need. He shoved everything off the island and lay her back. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, drawing his gaze. He ran a finger around first one nipple and then the other, watching them pebble, before rolling one peak between his fingers.
The sound of her breath hitching was music to his ears. Mason bent and placed a kiss on her stomach. Her legs widened farther as she arched her back. He grinned, kissing her hipbone as he stroked down the tops of her thighs.
He looked up in time to see her back arch, her hands reaching for him. The instant she found his arm, those fingers dug into his flesh, her grip conveying her need and the unmistakable demand for more—more of his mouth, his fingers. Him.
And he would give her every last drop of his soul.
His mouth hovered over her sex. She lifted her hips, urgent and seeking. He leaned just far enough away so he didn’t touch her. She whimpered and dug her nails deeper, but he wouldn’t relent. If he only got one night, he was going to take full advantage of it.
He lightly ran his fingers along her sex that glistened with her desire, pausing at the top. His finger circled the hood covering her swollen clit. Slowly, deliberately, he pulled it away to reveal the tiny nub. Then he lowered his mouth to it, letting his tongue flick back and forth.
Rowen groaned and rocked her hips against his face.
It wasn’t long before she was panting, her chest heaving as he teased and tormented her body until she was a quivering, writhing mass of nerves perched on the precipice of ecstasy.
He refused to allow her to fall. Each time he felt her body tensing, he eased back on his ministrations, but he never relented.
He wanted—no, he needed—her screaming from the exquisite pleasure only he could give.
To drive her past the edge and watch every tremor, hear every cry that ripped free of her.
He craved her surrender as proof that she, too, felt the desperation, the need, the wildfire that roared, unstoppable, between them.
Mason feasted upon her sex and slid first one finger and then two inside her, pumping his hand in and out of her. This time, when he brought her to the edge, he sent her plummeting hard and fast. Her body stiffened as pleasure rolled through her, her inner walls spasming around his fingers.
The sight of the ecstasy claiming her was the most beautiful kind of torment. He drank in every shudder, every moan, drawing out her climax until she lay limp, his name caught on her breath. And he fell—utterly, irrevocably. Hers.
He pressed a kiss to the inside of one thigh and then the other while slowly withdrawing his fingers. Her eyes were closed, her chest heaving. Her pleasure coated his fingers and lingered on his tongue, and he knew in that moment that there would never be another woman for him. He loved Rowen.
It was a quiet love, a calm love. Yet it was fierce. Violent.
Savage.
And he would tear anyone apart who contemplated harming a single hair on her head.
He wanted to tell her and swear to always stand by her side, but he held the words in. Maybe one day he would tell her. For now, he remained silent and buried his love. There were still a few hours yet of their night. There was no need to disrupt their enjoyment with anything but more pleasure.
The dawn would bring enough of that.