Chapter 24 #2
One of his hands left her hip to slide between her legs, finding her center. She cried out at the contact, her rhythm faltering.
"Don't stop," he commanded, his fingers circling with firm pressure. “Watch while you fall apart on me."
She forced her eyes to stay on their reflection, watching as her body moved over his, as his hand worked between her legs, as her expression shifted from concentration to desperation. She could see the exact moment the pleasure became too much, see her mouth fall open, see her back arch—
The fourth orgasm hit differently than the others. Deeper. More consuming. She felt it in every part of her body, felt herself clenching around him, felt the warmth in her chest explode outward in waves of golden light that made her skin glow.
Eliam groaned beneath her, his hands gripping her hips hard enough to bruise as he thrust up into her, chasing his own release.
She watched in the mirror as he came, his head thrown back, his whole body going rigid.
The sight of him losing control beneath her sent another wave of pleasure through her already oversensitized body.
She collapsed forward onto his chest, gasping, completely spent. Her whole body was shaking with aftershocks, and she could feel him still pulsing inside her.
His arms came around her, holding her close while their breathing slowly returned to normal. One hand stroked through her hair with unexpected tenderness.
"Four," he said with deep satisfaction. "That's more like it."
She couldn't even form words to respond, just lay against his chest feeling thoroughly, completely claimed in every possible way. Her body was marked inside and out, painted with bruises and bite marks and the lingering sensation of his touch.
"Say it again," he said softly, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.
Briar almost asked what he meant but the previous evening came flooding back to her. “I…” she began, suddenly feeling shy despite the intimacy. “I love you.”
He pulled her closer, burying his face against the curve of her throat. “Rest now. It’s still early, barely dawn.”
Briar closed her eyes again, feeling the warmth in her chest settle between them, content and sated.
Briar woke to the scent of food and the sound of water running in the adjoining bathing room. For a moment she just lay there, sore in places she'd forgotten could be sore, marked inside and out, but feeling more rested than she had in days.
The bed beside her was empty, though she could hear Eliam moving around in the other room.
She sat up slowly, wincing at the pull of muscles that had been thoroughly used.
The bruises on her inner thighs were dark and obvious, the bite marks on her shoulders and throat even more so.
She looked like she'd been in a fight, though the kind of fight was decidedly different from the ones involving Malus or border confrontations.
"You're awake," Eliam said from the doorway. "Good."
He crossed to her, his eyes tracking over her body with possessive satisfaction. The marks he'd left were clearly visible, and she saw his expression settle into something smug.
"How do you feel?" he asked.
"Sore," she admitted.
"As you should be." He pulled back the blankets without asking permission, ignoring her protest as he scooped her up. "Bath first."
The bathing room was filled with steam, a large tub already filled with water that smelled of herbs and something floral. He set her on her feet beside it, his hands steadying her when her legs wobbled slightly.
"I can manage," she said, though the thought of climbing into the tub on her own made her muscles ache in protest.
"Can you?" His tone suggested he doubted it, but he stepped back, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed. Clearly not leaving, but giving her space to handle it herself.
She let the sleep shirt fall to the floor, too tired to be modest about his watching. His eyes tracked over every mark, every bruise, cataloging his work with clear satisfaction.
The water was almost too hot, but in the best way. She sank into it with a groan of relief, feeling her muscles begin to unknot immediately. The heat soaked into her sore thighs, her aching back, all the places that bore evidence of the previous night and morning.
For a few moments, she just let herself float in the warmth, eyes closed, breathing in the herbal steam. It smelled like lavender and something sharper, something that helped clear the fog from her mind.
A small splash near her elbow made her eyes open.
Frederick surfaced from beneath the water, his translucent form shifting from blue to pleased green. His gill-fronds waved excitedly, creating tiny currents around her arm.
Despite everything, she felt herself smile. "Frederick. You found me."
The water sprite did a little loop, his whole body flashing brighter green before settling back to his usual translucent clarity. He swam in circles around her, clearly delighted to see her.
"I heard you made it to the Star Court," she said quietly, running her fingers through the water near him. "That you're the reason they came for us."
Frederick's color shifted to an even brighter green, his movements becoming more animated. He pressed against her hand like he was seeking affection, and she felt that strange sensation of cool silk against her skin.
"You did so well," she told him, and he practically glowed with pride, doing another little spin that sent ripples across the bath.
"The sprite has been living in the main fountain," Eliam said from the doorway. "Arion lets it swim wherever it wants."
Frederick released a stream of bubbles that looked almost indignant, his color flickering toward defensive blue before settling back to green. He swam protectively around Briar's arm, his gill-fronds waving in what Briar translated to mean he did not approve of Eliam’s dismissiveness.
"He has a name," Briar said. "And he helped save your life. Be nice."
Eliam made a noncommittal sound, but Frederick seemed satisfied, returning to his pleased green and doing lazy circles while she washed.
She reached for the soap, and Frederick immediately investigated it with apparent suspicion, his color shifting to cautious yellow as he swam around the bar. When she lathered it in her hands, he darted away, then cautiously approached the bubbles with what looked like fascination.
"I don't think he's seen soap before," she observed.
"Water sprites are easily entertained," Eliam said, but there was less dismissal in his tone than before. Maybe because Frederick had, in fact, saved them all.
She worked the soap through her hair, her arms protesting the movement. Everything ached in a way that was going to make today interesting. Frederick watched with rapt attention, occasionally poking at the soap bubbles with his gill-fronds, which only made more bubbles, which delighted him further.
When she dunked her head under to rinse, she opened her eyes beneath the water to find Frederick right there, eye-spots wide, his whole body doing an excited shimmy. She surfaced with a laugh, water streaming down her face.
"He's very enthusiastic," she said.
"He's a nuisance," Eliam corrected, but without any real heat.
Frederick did a loop, flashed blue, then dove deep into the tub, disappearing from view. A moment later, he popped up near the edge, perched on the rim like he was surveying his domain.
Briar finished washing, taking her time, letting the heat work into her sore muscles. When she finally stood to get out, Frederick did one more cheerful loop and dove back under, presumably off to find another fountain to explore.
Eliam was there immediately with a towel, wrapping it around her before she could reach for it herself. His hands were careful as he dried her off, mindful of the marks he'd left, though his expression suggested he had no regrets about putting them there.
"Can you walk?" he asked.
"Yes," she said, though her legs still felt unsteady.
He kept one hand on her elbow anyway as she moved back into the bedchamber. A fresh sleep shirt lay on the bed, soft and oversized, and he helped her into it with the same careful attention he'd used with the towel.
"Now food," he said, guiding her to the table by the windows.
The tray held more than she could possibly eat—bread, cheese, sliced fruit, cold meat, honey, butter. Simple but substantial. Her stomach reminded her that she'd burned a lot of energy in the past twelve hours.
She sat and began eating while he poured water from a pitcher, setting the glass in front of her with a firmness that suggested he'd be monitoring how much she drank.
"Eat all of it," he said, settling into the chair across from her.
"I can't possibly—"
"You can and you will." His tone left no room for argument. "Your body needs fuel to recover."
She picked up a piece of bread, tearing it into smaller pieces. The food was good, and once she started eating, she realized how hungry she actually was. She made her way through the bread and cheese, then the fruit, while Eliam watched with that intensity he brought to everything.
"More," he said when she slowed, pushing the plate of meat toward her.
"I'm full—"
"You're not." He leaned back in his chair, arms crossed. "You've barely eaten in days. You need more than fruit and bread."
She sighed but took a piece of the meat. He was right, annoyingly. Her body needed the protein, needed to rebuild after everything it had been through.
The silence was comfortable as she ate, broken only by the clink of her fork against the plate and the distant sound of wind beyond the windows. When she finally pushed the plate away, genuinely full, he seemed satisfied.
"Better," he said.
She looked out the windows for the first time, really looked, and saw what she'd barely registered in the panic of last night. The Star Court gardens were blanketed in white, snow covering the impossible blooms and turning everything into a winter scene that looked like something from a dream.