Chapter 13
13
Palmer
“ S o Attwater will be staying in a Disian jail until further notice,” I finished as Gatlin and I reached our bedrooms after another nice dinner together.
“It’s kind of unnerving knowing that I could literally be dragged to Hell at any moment,” Gatlin admitted, pulling me in for a kiss.
I wrapped my arms around his neck, deepening the kiss, and he groaned, pulling away only to swoop in for another kiss. I pushed him away, chuckling. “Go get ready for bed.”
“That’s an invitation, right?” he asked playfully.
“You know it is. Go on then.” I shooed him away.
I had about twenty minutes to prepare myself for bed before Gatlin joined me.
He had been right when he said two days ago in the council chambers that Attwater had taken away my choice. Gatlin had reacted better than I had anticipated to seeing me without my glamour, but it wasn’t in a way anyone would have chosen to reveal their true self to their lover.
So I stripped out of my loose black maxi dress and slipped on a black silk nightie edged in lace that stopped midway on my thighs. I stood in front of the bathroom mirror and removed the ring that contained my glamour as I always did, revealing my true self and doing my nightly skincare. Only this time, I left my ring in the jewelry dish on the counter when I was finished. I removed the rest of my adornments, brushed my teeth, and brushed out my long silver hair.
He knocked before entering the bedroom, and I heard him pad across the room.
I took a deep breath, expelled it, and added a little balm to my lips before exiting and turning off the bathroom light.
“Who is going to run the west…” His question died when he saw me. I walked to meet him by my bed.
“We found a Sasquatch willing to take over his lands temporarily but unwilling to sit on the council. So we will have to put the word out there’s a vacancy on the Nyxian Council,” I answered, stopping a few feet away.
I doubt he heard me; his eyes were devouring my form, and I loved it.
“You are beautiful, Palmer.” He reached out his fingertips and traced the patterns on my skin.
I let him touch me, his fingers ghosting up my arm, then shoulder.
He stepped closer. “These freckles are fucking sexy,” he said, his voice rough with lust. “I didn’t even know that was a kink of mine, but now I want to see where else you have them.”
“Mmm, almost everywhere.” I sighed when he kissed my neck. “I’d like you to figure that out tonight, and I’d like something else.”
I opened my eyes, looking up into his blue ones. “I want you to make love to me.”
His eyes darkened at my request. “I want that. I’ve wanted that for a while now. Are you sure?”
“So sure that I’ve taken contraceptive potions for the last month,” I replied, carding my fingers through his blond curls. “You would not offend me if you used protection, of course.”
Gatlin’s hands slid up my hips, his fingers brushing over the straps of my thong. “I haven’t had any other partners since the clean health panel I submitted for the contract, and neither have you, and yours was clear too.”
“I have not had any partners in the last few years,” I admitted, not ashamed, “and we made vows.”
“Not those kind,” he said before drawing me to him. “But knowing we are on the same page is a relief.”
I cocked my head to the side, resting my hands on his white t-shirt. “The same page?”
“You are my bonded partner, Palmer, and out of respect, I had planned to continue to be single while we completed the terms of your contract. But you’ve been my wife since Christmas, and I want an extension on the terms,” he said, his eyes so tender that my breath caught. “I want this life with you, Palmer, and I want to show you all the reasons why we should renew in October.”
I threaded my arms around his neck, feeling overwhelmed, lucky, and so many other emotions all at once that my voice trembled when I said, “You say the most dangerous things to me, pet. How could I not fall in love with you?”
“Oh, thank God,” he said, kissing me passionately before lifting me up. We kissed as he carried us to my bed.
I let go, falling back on the mattress. He followed, crawling onto the bed with me.
His hands gently stroked my legs while he settled on his knees in between them, looking at me like I had all the answers to his happiness, and maybe I did.
“I love you,” he said, leaning down and drawing up my knee, kissing it. My heart beat wildly in my chest at his declaration.
“I love you,” he said again, kissing the other thigh. The warmth in my heart overflowed for this man.
“I love you,” he repeated, lifting my nightie and kissing me above my belly button, and I sighed. Nothing I had ever heard before in my long life was more provocative than those three words.
“I love you,” he whispered, then lifted my nightie over my head. “Fuck,” he said, his eyes tracing the patterns on my breasts before he took his t-shirt off one-handed over his head.
He gave into the moment, reaching out to my chest and cupping my heavy globes, suddenly so tender and aching for his touch.
Then he looked down into my eyes and traced the freckles on my cheeks before saying, “I love you,” and kissing me passionately.
My hands slipped into the soft curls at the nape of his neck, gliding down his back. He plundered my mouth, his tongue offering a tantalizing preview of what was yet to come. His fingers trailed down my skin, reaching the band of my panties and tugging them down far enough I was able to kick them off. I pulled at his sleep pants, wanting nothing between us.
“Soon, baby, I just need to taste you,” he explained, stroking and kissing his way down my neck, rolling my nipples between his fingers and then replacing his fingers with his hot mouth, driving me wild as he divided his attention between each needy peak.
I ached for him to continue south. With every greedy pull on my breast, my clit throbbed.
I cried out when he bit down gently, then blew on the stiffened nub. “I could spend all night worshipping these,” he teased.
His hand slid in between my sodden folds, slick and ready for his cock. I whimpered when his large fingers circled my clit, then thrust down to my opening, barely dipping inside. My hips bucked and I moaned, trying to get him to push his fingers deeper, the incomplete action driving me wild.
“The noises you make. God, Palmer, your responses make my cock so hard. I want to bury myself in you.”
He stopped touching me and I groaned, pushing myself up to see why he stopped my pleasure.
He pushed down his pants, his thick erection bobbing free, and I surged forward the second his pants were off his body, pushing him back, spreading his legs as I swallowed him down.
He hissed, using one hand to maintain balance as he knelt on my bed. The other, he tangled in my hair, wrapping the strands around his fingers all the way to the root. I loved how he held on and pulled as he fucked into my mouth, his salty pre-come flavoring my tongue.
“I want”—he punctuated his words with a thrust—“to come, in your cunt,” he panted, “and fill you, with my come.”
I hollowed out my cheeks, sucking hard as my mouth came off his dick, Gatlin using the hold he had on my hair to direct my mouth to meet his. We fell back on my bed, and he lay under me. I had no illusions I was on top and therefore in control. He directed our kiss as we hungrily bit and licked. It was intoxicating, and without much thought beyond the biological urge to ride him, I wrenched my lips from his and positioned myself over his hips so I could sink down on his thick cock. His hands flew out, bracketing my hips as I seated myself, both of us moaning as his head speared my opening and pushed past that first ring of muscle, spreading me wide.
“I, holy, ah!” he gasped as I strangled his cock with my inner rings.
Our pelvises met and I whimpered, closing my eyes, the need to rock, to ride, to take almost overriding my sense. Thankfully, I had the presence of mind to give my love a moment to adjust, but that moment was torturous.
My eyes snapped open as his thumb began to circle my clit, my control so tight it almost hurt. “Ride me, baby,” he said, lust and love burning in his eyes.
I snapped. My hips rolled, seeking friction. The pressure from his thumb as it circled, the drag of his cock against my inner walls, a maddening stretch from my nipple as he fondled my breast. I couldn't keep track of the sensations. I was so keyed up, I wasn’t surprised when the first orgasm hit, causing him to cry out as my walls pulsed around him. He praised me incoherently as I continued to ride. My muscles did their job keeping him from finding his release as I came over and over again, soaking his cock with my juices until finally I opened my mouth. Gatlin knew—somehow he did—rising up to meet my lips so I could drink, fusing his lips to mine as I pulled in mouthfuls of bliss. I wanted him to have more, to feel more, because I loved him and he loved me and we were complete together. With that need, the lifeforce left my body and flowed into his, our exchange looped, me drinking the lifeforce he offered and pushing my lifeforce back into him.
We came together, the energies heightening our pleasure as my muscles spasmed and jerked, my vision going white before I passed out.
I don't know how long I was unconscious; I woke up in my bed, cradled in Gatlin's arms.
“Baby, are you okay?”
I blinked into the moonlight, feeling odd. “Something’s different,” I whispered, looking up at my lover.
“You were feeding from me,” he said, lightly brushing some hair off of my face, “but then you were feeding me, and now…” He touched his chest. “I can feel you.”
My eyes widened, and still feeling out of it, I shakily touched my own chest. I could feel my contentment, my loopy giddiness from coming down off our spectacular lovemaking, but I could also feel concern—concern that wasn't mine, and a strong foundational love that had tears coming to my eyes.
“We’ve bonded,” I whispered. “I thought it was the ceremony, that we had to be handfasted and then renew it again, because my mother said you had to bond twice. Always with ‘When you bond the second time, you need to make sure you love him.’ I thought it was cautionary advice to prevent divorce or avoid upsetting the magic. She must have meant… this.”
Gatlin chuckled. “My mom didn’t do a very good job with the sex talk either.” His eyes shined with mirth.
“But you didn't get a say.” I pushed at his chest, but instead of letting me get up, he pulled me in tighter.
“Yes, I did. I told you I wanted to bond again, and it must have set off your instincts,” he reasoned.
“That’s not really consent,” I objected, still feeling like I’d tricked him into marrying me.
“Palmer, baby, do I feel like I’m upset?” he asked, kissing my forehead.
I lay in his arms, sorting through the feelings swirling through me, searching for the ones that were separate and yet also now mine, freely shared, and there it was. Elation. Awe. Love.
“Oh,” I said, a bit breathless.
“Oh,” he agreed, kissing me.
We kissed for a while, enjoying the sensations we shared until interrupted by nature’s call.
“It’s so strange that I can tell you have to pee.”
He shook his head, walking to the bathroom. “At least we did a good job with topping you up; I don't know what I’d do if we were both hungry right now.”
He continued to the bathroom, but I stood still in my tracks. I wasn’t hungry. I wouldn’t say I was full, but I wasn’t hungry at all. There were no twinges, no empty hollowness. Just blessed nothingness.
This is what it must have been like at the Old Place. Truly exchanging energies with their partners. Maybe, maybe we were supposed to bond to the people of this world. Maybe my ancestors had done that before, but it was so long ago it was forgotten. But maybe I was also getting ahead of myself. Time would tell. And at the very least, Gatlin and I had time to figure it out, together.