Chapter 66 #3
And as he had at Wisteria Falls, she told him exactly why as her body moved against his, their eyes locked.
“I love you for seeing me, and I love you for making me feel safe after so many years of being scared and alone. I love you for pushing past every barrier I kept up, but also for knowing and respecting when I needed time.” Her hips circled faster, the Fatesworn bond incessant.
“I love you for your obsession with puzzles, and for how you see the world, for how you want to fix broken things. I love you because you hear me when I can’t speak, when I’m silently screaming, you know.
I love how deeply and unabashedly you love, me and everyone in your life, and how you don’t let me run.
” Her chest ached with each word. “Fates, thank you for not letting me run.”
Roremar sat up, gripping the back of her neck and slamming his lips against hers, swallowing the rest of her confession. Their sweat soaked skin slid against each other.
“Thank you,” he breathed.
“What?”
“Thank you for loving me in spite of everything I’ve done.”
Emmeline shook her head. “I don’t love you in spite of those things. I love the man your scars make you.”
At that, Roremar lost the last strings of his control. He flipped them so Emmeline was on her back, cradled carefully among their discarded clothes.
She gasped as she landed, but Roremar was already pushing back into her with relentless need.
His body was strong atop hers, every stroke of his tongue as he kissed her, every tug of her hair commanding.
The feel of his skin against hers was enough to drive her wild, his eyes on hers the most intimate thing she could imagine.
Starfire climbed the walls around them. Rubble quivered in the air.
“Please,” she pleaded against his lips as he pounded into her.
“Such a good girl,” he panted, one elbow braced beside her head, his other hand tight on her hip. “Begging for me for all the stars to see.”
As he pulled back and sank forward again, he pressed a kiss to her shoulder. Her neck. Her temple. Each one solidified this bond.
She was breathless, already climbing higher. Her nails dug into his shoulders as she gasped, clinging to whatever part of him she could—
No.
She didn’t have to settle for a part or temporary. Not in secret or for only one night. She was claiming him.
Roremar the Reckless.
Her Fatesworn.
The thought had her rocking her hips faster, their ragged breaths and desperate moans filling the air between the crackling starfire.
“Tell the stars,” Roremar gritted out. His grip on her hip tightened, and he punctuated each of his next words with another thrust. “You. Are. Mine.”
And Emmeline shattered.
She cried his name and he hers, spilling inside her as she fell apart, the two of them in ruin together, a fated story rewritten.
Roremar collapsed against her, holding most of his weight up, but his ring pressed between them. He brushed her hair from her face, kissing her forehead and taking her in. She was sure her cheeks were flushed, her eyes dazed with—
“Stars,” Roremar breathed.
“What?”
He brushed his thumb beneath her eye. “There are silver flecks in your eyes that I’ve never seen before. Like stars.”
Emmeline wasn’t sure how to respond, but Roremar pressed his lips to hers, kissing her long and slow and with an echo of I love you in every touch.
She winced as he pulled out of her, but he repositioned them so they were both on his cloak and ripped the hem to clean them up.
Then, he spread her dress atop them, tucked his arm around her, and pulled her into his side, as if they were truly watching the stars, not the continuation of the cosmic event their combined prophetic magic caused.
And for once, they only had to exist.
“Are you okay?” Roremar whispered as he brushed his fingers up and down her arm.
Emmeline tangled her legs with his, relishing the peace she hadn’t dared wish for. “More than. But I’m”—she glanced at the sky—“confused,” she finished, though she wasn’t sure it encompassed everything she felt right now. Worry crept into her chest again.
“It’s so rare,” she whispered to the same stars she’d promised she’d let Roremar go.
But if those stars had written this bond, maybe that was enough approval to keep him.
Roremar cupped her cheek and turned her face to his, brushing his lips against hers. “We both attract rare magic.” He kissed her leisurely, as if they had all the time in the world. As if there weren’t people in this very manor who would kill them for being here together.
When he pulled back they were both panting, desperation tightening all the lines of his body against hers.
He dragged his hand over her thigh, up her spine, fingers scorching a path across every place they met.
“I love you, Emmeline, and I want to make it known. No more thinking you’ll be bonded to another man. We’ll find a way out of this together.”
“Yes,” she breathed, pulling him back to her.
And that kiss was a promise from both of them. Her heart beat along with it, the Fatesworn bond stitching between them humming the tune of one word.
Belong.
Belong.
Belong.