Chapter 7
Han’s room was bigger and much nicer than hers, partly because he’d been an uncat for so long, which let him move into the better rooms in the uncat wing as they were vacated by newly minted wizards and familiars, and partly because of his wealthy merchant parents.
They were a second-tier house aspiring to more and they indulged their high potential son.
Though Han often bitterly observed that if he proved to be a familiar, he’d no doubt end up with a single bed in the cellar, until they sold him to the highest bidder.
With a wave of very real fear for him, Iliana realized that highest bidder could be Sabrina Hanneil.
“Let me light a fire,” he said as they entered the room. “The fire elemental hates me.”
“I don’t know what you do to them.” He’d had the elemental heating his room replaced a number of times, and they always sullenly faded over time.
“I only kicked it a few times.”
“Han!”
“Kidding!” He held up his hands, smiling innocently.
“You should see if Alise Elal would come talk to it for you.”
Han sobered, coming to her and parting her cloak, settling warm hands on her waist. “I don’t want Alise Elal in my room.
I only want you. Now where was I?” He lifted his hands to the clasp at her throat.
“Ah, I remember. You weren’t wearing this.
” He flicked the magic toggle and her cloak whooshed to the floor, leaving her feeling oddly naked, though she was still fully clothed. Were they really going to do this?
“And we were dancing,” Han continued, taking her hand in his and settling the other at the small of her back, easing her close to brush against his long, lean body.
He began humming the same, slow song, swirling her a few steps closer to the fire as he danced her back into that sweet dreamy space.
Firelight flickered over his gorgeous face and lit the inner, crystal blue rings in his eyes so the green spires flared gold.
“And then,” he murmured, expression rapt, “I kissed you.”
His lips brushed against hers, whiskey warm, sugar sweet, and a moan escaped her.
Velvet soft and fiery spice. He nibbled, tested, tasted, gradually deepening the kiss as she wound her arms around his neck, leaning into him, into the incredible sensuality of the kiss.
They swayed still, turning in slow circles as they rocked against each other, though he’d long since stopped humming the tune.
Still, the music played in her mind, winding with Han’s taste and scent, the feel of his arms around her, the beauty of his lips which felt even better than they looked.
She swam in a honeyed sea of desire, where only this existed.
Bolder this time, she untied his hair from the ribbon he’d used to tie it back, combing her fingers through the luxurious silk of it.
Finally, he raised his head, searching her face. “What are you thinking?” he whispered.
“Same as last night—that I should’ve kissed you a long time ago.”
A half smile quirked his gorgeous lips. “See?”
“Han…” She wound her fingers into the silky tendrils at the nape of his neck. “I don’t want to think anymore.”
“Let me see what I can do about that.”
He kissed her again, this time with increasing hunger that stoked her own, his hands stroking down her back, then tangling in her hair as he tugged her head back so he could kiss her even more deeply.
She let herself go, giving herself over the utter delight of his caresses, even as a small part of her stood back in astonishment at the good little citizen being so very bad, and as another, larger part of her jumped up and down in glee that she was here, with Han, at long last.
He traced a finger down her spine, parting the magical back seam of her gown so the bodice sagged around her shoulders.
Raining kisses on her upturned face, along her jaw, on her closed eyelids, he eased the gown down and over her arms, letting it fall in a puddle around her, so she stood only in her undergarments.
“So beautiful,” he whispered between kisses. “I want to kiss every freckle.”
“That would take forever,” she said on a giggle. She was covered in freckles.
“I want forever.” Han paused and she opened her eyes to his ferocious glare.
She laid her fingers over his lips. “Less talking.”
“As my lady commands,” he murmured, then drew her fingertips into his mouth and sucking lightly on them, flicking his clever tongue against their sensitive tips so she gasped, trembling with the passion he evoked.
“How do you even know what you’re doing?” she breathed.
“I read a lot, instead of memorizing antiquated house crests,” he teased, releasing her hand and nuzzling under her ear, sending delicious shivers through her. “I wanted this to be good for you,” he said against the hollow there, before licking it.
“What about for you?” she managed to ask, barely managing to stay on her feet, and even then it was mostly because she was hanging on to him as his mouth feasted down her throat.
“It’s you,” he replied simply. “This is already beyond perfect.” He hooked his thumbs in the straps of her camisole, meeting her gaze seriously. “Yes?”
She took a breath, her nipples taut against the silky material. “I think it’s your turn, first.”
He smiled, delighted mischief in it. “Fair enough.”
Stepping away, he pulled his shirt off over his head, tossing it aside. His lean chest gleamed in the firelight, muscles rippling as he leaned one hand against the bed post to toe off his boots.
“You are so beautiful,” she whispered, and he flashed a wicked grin at her.
“I think that’s my line.” He paused, hands at the magic toggle of his pants. “Everything?”
“I may not have read all the books you have, but I’m pretty sure we have to be naked.”
“Not necessarily, but naked gets my vote.” He released the waist band and shoved his pants down, kicking them away and standing naked before her.
His hips narrowed above his long, shaped thighs.
In a nest of pale hair, his cock, as long as the rest of him, stood straight out.
Alien and enticing. Begging to be touched.
With a shy grin, he gestured to himself, “And… here I am.” He blew out a breath. “Wow, I didn’t expect to be nervous.”
She laughed, her own nerves dissipating a little, and she stepped to him, holding up her hands. “May I?”
He closed his eyes, a shiver passing over him. “I’ve been fantasizing for years about you doing so. Yes.”
She set her hands lightly on his shoulders, starting there with her exploration, stroking along the lean lines of his muscles.
Since he couldn’t take any of the advanced courses, he’d been doing a lot of weapons training electives.
Sword, staff, and archery, and it showed in his exquisite physique.
He shuddered lightly under her caresses, his lips pressed together, hands in fists at his side as if he fought to stay still for her.
“How many years?” she asked, curious.
He cracked open his eyes. “I thought you wanted less talking.”
“About anything except this moment,” she amended.
“Years ago isn’t this moment.”
She swirled her fingers over his nipples, so different from her own. “Yes, it is. Stop ducking the question. How many?”
He looked at her, long and thoughtfully. “Since I first met you.”
She paused, surprised. “That long ago.”
“Yes.” His jaw tightened. “If you’re not going to touch, I want my turn.”
“All right.” Emboldened by this startling knowledge that Han had fantasized about her all this time, had wanted her maybe as much as she’d always wanted him, she stepped back.
She pulled off her camisole—tossing it aside as he had with his shirt—then skimmed off her panties before she lost her courage.
And suddenly understood exactly why Han had blushed in baring himself for her, especially if her expression had looked anything like his.
His mouth had fallen open slightly, his face slack in a way that would’ve made him look daft but for the piercing blue of his eyes as he raked her with his gaze.
“Iliana,” he breathed. “As many times as I’ve dreamed of seeing you this way, my fantasies never came close to the sheer perfection of you.
” Moving slowly, he took her hand, raised it above her head, encouraging her to twirl in a leisurely circle. “You take my breath away.”
“Not so much that you haven’t stopped talking,” she teased, but she was breathless too.
He narrowed his eyes. “You keep talking.”
She couldn’t resist, she popped onto her tiptoes and kissed that beautiful mouth, gasping when his hands vised on her waist, pulling her against him so her breasts crushed against his hot skin, his cock pressing hard against her belly, as he deepened the kiss, drinking her in like a man dying of thirst. His magic shimmered potent under his skin, just as her own boiled inside, swelling to bursting.
She clung to him, aware of his hands traveling over her, then—dimly—of him easing them to fall onto the bed.
This was good as it let her touch him everywhere and feel him against her at the same time, their legs tangling together, his mouth hot on her taut nipples, fanning the flames that threatened to consume her and leave nothing left. “Han,” she moaned, pleaded.
“Iliana,” he replied in a reverent whisper, making a poem of her name.
She rolled onto her back, parting her thighs. “I want you inside of me.”
“So soon?” He stroked a hand down her ribs and over her hip. “We’ve barely done any foreplay.”
“Later for that,” she urged, cupping his perfectly muscled ass in her hand and digging in her nails. “I want this, now.”
His lips curved in a wicked smile. “I have to check that you’re ready.”
“I’m ready.”
“I have to be sure,” he explained, so seriously that she knew he was tormenting her. “Let me see you.”
With a groan, she let go of him, staring at the ornate ceiling and blushing furiously as he slid down her body, then parted her thighs further, opening her to his gaze. “Han…”
“Trust me. I want this to be good for you.” He caressed her thighs, combing light fingers through her nether hair. “I love that this hair is red, too.” He kissed her inner thigh, making her tremble. “And that you have freckles even here.”
“Han, please.” She squirmed, forgetting to be embarrassed, and he chuckled.
“All right.” Carefully he parted the lips of her sex, touching her with exquisite care. “I want to do this right,” he muttered, almost to himself, then touched her with a light finger, the sensation so extraordinary she squealed. “Did that hurt?” he asked anxiously, snatching his finger back.
“No,” she said on a laugh. “It felt amazing. Why is it better than when I do it?”
“Because we’re together,” he replied fervently. “Show me where to touch.”
So, she did, guiding his hand, sighing at the utter bliss of his caress, moving her hips with increasing urgency.
“You’re so wet,” he murmured in awe. “So sexy.”
“Told you I was ready.” She urged him up her body, but he stilled, holding himself away from her. “Did you change your mind?”
He huffed out a chagrined laugh. “I don’t want to hurt you. You’re so small and delicate down there.”
“Babies come out of there,” she reminded him. “It’s made to stretch.” Sliding her hand down his hip, she wrapped her hand around his rigid cock, delighting in how he stiffened, eyes going wide.
“Iliana!”
“Han.” She guided him toward her entrance, fitting his head against her and lifting her hips to help with the angle. Tantalizing, teasing her need. Not nearly enough. “Push,” she urged him.
His breathing ragged, fulminous blue gaze locked on hers, he eased into her, going torturously slow until she grabbed his ass with both hands and pulled him into her.
Their groans intertwined, bodies shivering together.
Iliana had never felt so close to anyone, so rawly vulnerable and so complete at the same time.
“Are you all right?” Han asked in a shaky voice.
“Yes.” She moved under him. “More, please.”
He laughed, huskily, then levered up on his elbows, finding her hands and lacing their fingers together.
She wrapped her legs tighter around his waist as he moved in her, their gazes locked.
Finding the answering rhythm as he pressed deeper and deeper into her, she felt as if she flowered, opening to him, her heart overflowing.
She saw the climax in his face, the wave overtaking him, his thrusts increasing, the rhythm falling apart in his extremity.
To her surprise, the fist of orgasm grabbed her, too, and she followed after him, throwing her head back to cry out in the keen knife-edge of pleasure.
He fastened his mouth to her throat, biting down so an arc of fire ran from there to her groin, making her spasm again.
“Han!” she gasped, loosing the last of her reserves, spilling herself open in a gush. “Oh, Han, how I love you.”