32. The Mist Thief
Chapter 32
The verdant shade of Jonas’s eyes shadowed. He pressed his brow to mine, lips parted. Two fingers ran along my drenched slit.
My head fell back and I rocked against Jonas’s hand, gasping when he curled his fingers inside me. Jonas cupped the back of my neck and pulled my lips to his. Whimpers and small breaths slid from my throat the more he worked his fingers in and out.
With cruel torture, Jonas circled his thumb over the sensitive place at the apex of my core. My cries grew louder, palms smacked against the door. Doubtless they echoed down the stone staircase.
Brow furrowed, I tucked my face against his neck as he worked, tormented, and loved me with his wicked hand. My breath panted against his throat until the thin glass shield shattered low in my belly.
I sobbed his name, arms around his shoulders, keeping me upright. Jonas held me tightly, working the last heated drops of my pleasure. My body went limp.
“I will never get enough of your sounds, Fire.” He pulled his hand away from between my thighs and sucked one finger into his mouth. “Or your taste.”
Jonas placed the other finger against my lips. All hells, my knees weakened when my own tongue wrapped around the tip, tasting myself on his skin.
A low rumble rolled from his chest. He kissed me. Hard. Never breaking away, Jonas padded around until he found the latch. The door gave way and tossed us, stumbling, into the corridor.
Again, my body struck the wall. Jonas flattened a palm by my head, his hardness pressing into me. I slid a palm down his stomach, cupping the thickness of his length over his trousers. He moaned and dragged his teeth down the slope of my throat.
Jonas hissed in a bit of pain when I nudged the tips of my fingers down the front of his trousers. “Too much.” He shook his head, taking hold of my wrist. “I’ll spill all over you.”
Without a word, Jonas took my hand and raced us down the staircase and toward his room. He did not wait to open his door before pressing my front to the wall. I gasped. My eyes rolled back when he skirted his hand up my ribs, cupping the underside of one breast while running his hips along my backside until I thought I might come undone all over again.
A door opened, but a low gasp followed. Over my shoulder I caught sight of Dorsan slamming his door closed.
Jonas laughed when a flush crept up my neck. “I think we’ve shocked your proper guard.”
I spun around, taking his face in my hands and backing into his chamber. “I don’t care.”
Jonas kicked his door closed and devoured my mouth, all tongue and desperation. Hands tore at clothes like we had no time left. His belt went first, next his boots. My dress was yanked over my head, the under shift next, nearly tripping me as I went.
Jonas paused at the bed and drank in my naked body. One palm slid between my breasts, resting over my heart. “You are everything, Fire. Perfect. I would not change a hair on your head.”
“You’re not here to make me cry with sweet words, Husband.”
“I’ll make you scream then, Wife.”
“See that you do.”
“I will.”
I bit down on his bottom lip. “Give me the last word. At least once.”
Jonas kissed me, silencing his words, until he whispered, “Never.”
With one elegant motion, Jonas had his tunic tossed aside.
I kissed the inked symbols over his skin and worked his trousers over his hips until his cock sprang out. I swallowed. He was thick and hard. My insides swooped in anticipation. No, he was not my first, but in some ways he was—a first to care, a first to see me, a first to want me as I am.
Jonas scooped under my thighs, lifting me off the floor, and tossed me onto the bed. I shrieked when he reared over me, palms by my head. He kissed me sweetly, the tip of his tongue running along the edge of my bottom lip, my jaw, my neck. He kissed and licked his way to the swell of one breast, then closed his lips around the peak.
I bowed off the bed, grasping at the quilts for any sort of anchor.
When my head steadied, I reached between us, curling my fingers around his thick length. Jonas tightened his mouth over my nipple, moaning almost like he was in agony.
“I’ve never allowed myself to believe this could be more than a physical release,” he said, dragging his lips across my throat. “You’ve changed everything.”
“Why did you never love, Jonas?” My words were breathless, hardly there as I stroked his velvet skin.
“Because I was waiting for you, Fire.” Jonas gently pinched my nipple, tugging.
I couldn’t draw a deep enough breath, let alone address the vague confession. I didn’t want to read more into it, but my heart pounded in my ribs—I thought my husband might be falling much like me.
With slow kisses, Jonas worked his way back to my mouth. His hips settled between my thighs, and I moaned, seeking the pressure, though it seemed too much, too fierce.
It was as though the surface of my flesh was set ablaze. Heat pooled between my legs, throbbing and pulsing until I wanted to scream with need.
For a moment Jonas lifted his head, face flushed, breaths heavy, and held my gaze, perhaps looking for any hint I wanted him to stop. My fingers traced along the muscle and strength corded across his chest, shoulders, the strong curve of his neck. I wanted to touch every divot, kiss every surface.
“Where is my fire in those eyes?” he whispered. “We need not?—”
“No.” I touched his lips. “Last time . . . last time we touched, the fever came. I don’t want the same to take you again. It was horrid to see you suffer in such a way.”
Jonas cupped the side of my face, pressing a kiss to the corner of my mouth. He held his mouth there, words warm on my skin. “I’ve never had the same mesmer attack twice. I don’t understand it. Seems to burn out, then those dreams merely become a nightmare from the Mare demons.”
“I don’t want you to have those either.”
“Can’t be helped. I broke my last defense against you, Fire,” he said. “I’ve nestled you beside any soul that matters to me. Once you’re there, it’s for good. Don’t ask me to let you go.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
“Good.”
I rolled my eyes. Naked and wanting, I refused to get into a battle of final words. I tilted my head and kissed him, silencing that horridly beautiful tongue of his.
Jonas dragged his nose alongside one breast. “I want to taste your skin again.”
“Please.” I cried out, trembling under his larger form when his tongue lapped at the hardened point of my breast. He rocked his hips against my aching center. A frantic need, an obsession to join with him in every way took hold.
“Jonas,” I breathed out in a rough gasp. What was I trying to even say? I shook my head and simply blurted, “I need you.”
He lifted his head from my chest, tugging at my nipple with his teeth before releasing me. “Open these pretty thighs for me.”
With one hand, he pushed one of my knees to the side, spreading me out beneath him. His fiery eyes roved over my body, head to foot, stalling between my legs.
Jonas used both thumbs to run along both sides of my slickened core. “So perfect. I want every bleeding piece of you.”
“Yet I’m still waiting for you to take one.”
He chuckled. “Ah, be careful what you ask for, Wife.”
The silky darkness of his voice rumbled through my bones, my blood, to my very soul.
The tip of his tongue slipped out, wetting his lips, as he watched me recline on my elbows and slowly let my knees drop to the sides. If he had not proven his gentle hands and words time and again, I might shudder in fear at the way Jonas looked at me, the way he hovered over me, like he had every plan to destroy me before sunrise.
Gods, I hoped he did.
Jonas fitted his hips between my thighs. Unable to stop, my body snapped in an arch to feel him, to kill any distance between us, and guided the crown of his length to the heat of my slit.
In a painfully sensual crawl, he nudged into my dripping center, but when he was met with resistance, he hesitated. “Skadi, I know you said this was not a first, but . . .”
I shook my head. “It’s just been some time.”
He lifted more, watching where we were connected. “Tell me if I hurt you, yes?”
“It doesn’t hurt.” I moaned and wriggled beneath him, as though to prove it. “You’re . . . you’re indescribable. Please, Jonas.”
As though something snapped, Jonas let out a rough breath and rolled his hips in a quick thrust. He sank into me, tip to hilt.
“All right?” he rasped.
I nodded, digging my fingernails into his hips. Jonas set the rhythm; slow to build, but it wasn’t long before our pace quickened to a frenzied rush, and the slap of skin against skin echoed through his bedchamber.
When he pressed his body down, I arched up, like we were hoping to dissolve into each other. His length filled me, consumed me, and every thrust sent bright shocks of tantalizing pleasure surging through my veins.
“You’re mine,” he gritted out. Jonas bit down on my bottom lip, quickening his thrusts. “Gods, I am so glad you’re mine.”
Our breaths, our heat, the rush of our bodies, it all burned together until a tremble of delicious warmth flowed from my skull to my belly; like molten ore, it spilled between us until I shattered.
I cried out his name. My claws left red scratches across his arms as I lost control.
“Jonas. Yes, there.” My body squirmed and writhed. “There, gods, deeper.”
His breaths were ragged pants. Jonas leveraged onto his knees and tugged my hips up and toward him. I sobbed in pleasure at the new depth, the new invasion.
What little control he had left snapped. He pounded into me, wringing out every last piece of my release until his body shuddered. His face heated in a beautiful twist of pleasure as his release poured into me in hot bursts.
My husband slumped forward, his palms flattened beside my head, holding him over me. Silence surrounded us save for the rough gasps we shared.
When he pulled away, Jonas kept his hand over my entrance, and whispered, “Don’t lose a drop yet. I want to be dripping from you into tomorrow, Wife.”
“Good hells.” I closed my eyes, moaning under his touch. “Where do you think of your words?”
“It comes naturally, only for you.”
Once Jonas was satisfied I would never be able to forget what went on here tonight, he settled beside me. Our arms were tangled, our legs threaded like a woven tapestry. We held onto each other like the darkness of the fading sun might tear us apart.
I could feel the heat of his stare for a few breaths before he traced the curve of my nose, my lips.
“Where are your thoughts?” I asked.
Jonas stopped tracing my profile, dropped his arm around my belly, and hooked one of his legs around mine, pulling me close. He nuzzled his face in my hair. “I don’t want to say the wrong things.”
My pulse thudded. To me, my body would never recover from being loved by Jonas Eriksson. Was it not the same for him?
“Might as well tell me.”
His fingers drew small circles over my belly. “I’m . . . overwhelmed by you.”
“I don’t understand.”
Jonas sighed and propped his chin on a curled fist, looking down at me. “I’ve had lovers, Skadi, and I’d be a liar if I said my body did not enjoy it.”
“Do you think I hold it against you? I don’t.”
“Good.” He kissed my shoulder, but concern was still written in his features. “I was a fool and thought this would be much the same, but it was something else entirely. It was like a first. I have never, never, felt the way I did just now, like my blood was going to burn out of my veins.” He shook his head, chuckling, and returned his face to the curve of my neck. “My words aren’t making sense.”
I tightened my hold on his body, blinking my burning eyes toward the rafters overhead. “I understand. The feeling was the same.”
He smiled against my skin and held me tighter.
When his breaths turned soft and his body relaxed with sleep, I pressed a kiss to his forehead. “I love you too.”