Chapter 63 #3
My climax grew nearer, and panic rose. I wasn’t ready to go alone—not into battle, not into death, not even over the cliff of release. I forced my eyes to open, forced myself to hold his gaze.
“Not without you,” I pleaded. “Not yet.”
His shadows stilled. He must have seen it in me—the way those words carried heavier weight. He pulled his ripped tunic over his head and threw it aside. His arms slid beneath me and clutched me against him, our marks searing hot against the other’s skin. “Never without me,” he vowed.
He kissed me, and I let myself believe that was an oath we could keep. I wrapped myself in the magic of this home he’d built and the future it promised, and I let myself become her—the Diem who survived.
His magic released its grip on my wrists, and I made quick work of the rest of his clothes. His body pressed against me, hard and solid, crowding out the lingering worries from my thoughts. The bond thrilled at so much of his flesh touching mine, but its hunger was not yet sated.
Luther positioned himself at my entrance.
He hesitated there, holding me close and breathing me in.
This felt like a first, in a strange kind of way.
We’d been intimate since the island, but those nights had been about physical need, clawing out a brief reprieve from the bond’s demands before it drove us mad.
This was something deeper, something written in our souls.
A fusing of two hearts, an acceptance of the mating magic all over again.
I threaded my arms around his neck. “Eternally,” I murmured, repeating the vow I had made in my heart, but never spoken aloud. “Unconditionally. For as long as love exists.”
He pulled back just enough to bring his shining, blue-grey eyes to mine. With a reverent breath and a single thrust, we became one in a way that death could never undo.
The bond fell silent, content at last. Here in his arms, I was complete. Not because I was empty without him—because the safe landing of his love gave me the courage to fall, and to fly.
Luther cradled my head and tipped his forehead to mine.
I loved the dark dominance that smoldered within him, but there was something so earnest about the way he held me now.
I felt his love for me in every slow, indulgent thrust and burst of bliss each time he drove inside me.
I felt it in his attentive shadows, making sure that every part of me felt cherished and held.
I felt it in his kiss, every press of his lips a promise spoken in words unheard.
My nails dragged through his hair, my own scalp tingling with an echo of his pleasure, and a dark, husky rumble rolled from his throat.
He hooked his arms behind my thighs and pulled them up, shifting to drive himself deeper.
He growled his praise—You feel so good, so fucking right.
My perfect mate, look how beautiful you are with me inside you.
—and I moaned my devotion—I’m yours. Only yours. Always yours.
Release came far too quickly, and neither of us had the strength to pull away. Luther’s godhood slipped its leash, exploding through the room with a thousand twinkling stars, and we tumbled over the edge together in a blinding, shimmering glow.
“Your eyes,” he breathed. He gazed at me in reverent surprise, brushing a thumb across my brow. Light danced across his face and all over the room, a strange assortment of blue and silver and orange.
I shifted beneath him, sending another wave of desire crashing through me, and my eyes squeezed shut, the moment forgotten in a haze of mind-consuming bliss.
The fall felt never-ending. Through the bond, my pleasure reignited his, and his stoked mine, and our bodies trembled with crest after crest. I cried out his name as he spilled inside me, then buried my face into his neck and clenched around his pulsing cock.
“My gorgeous mate,” he murmured, working me through my climax with slow rolls of his hips. “Give it all to me. I’ve got you.”
When at last we were both spent, he rolled to his back and took me with him, nestling me against his heaving chest while we fought to catch our breath.
We’d shared nights together that had been more exerting, but what the bond needed tonight was something else.
Luther had been everything I swore I never wanted; I was everything he thought he couldn’t have.
Lately, fate felt determined to pull us apart.
This curse, at least, we’d defied.
He brushed my hair from my face and pressed his lips to my forehead, letting them linger there as he held me close. The joy radiating from him was contagious, and I found myself grinning like a fool against his chest.
“It feels wrong to be this happy in the middle of war,” I said, only half joking.
“It shouldn’t,” he said. “Our minds need joy for the same reason our bodies need helmets and armor.”
His words set my thoughts in motion, tumbling faster and faster as an idea began to form. Slowly but surely, the path ahead of me sharpened into focus.
A way to save my people.
If only I could find a way to save myself.