24. Malachi #2
I unhook her bra, letting it fall away. Her breasts are perfect, fitting my palms as if they were made for me. I brush my thumbs over her nipples, and they pebble instantly. She gasps, her head falling back, exposing the long, graceful line of her throat.
I can't resist. I press open-mouthed kisses along her neck, down to her chest, savoring the taste of her skin, the salt of her sweat.
I take one peaked nipple into my mouth, sucking gently, then not so gently.
Her hands tangle in my hair, holding me to her, a silent plea for more.
I give it to her. I lavish attention on her breasts, alternating between them, until she's writhing against me, her breath coming in ragged pants.
"Malachi, please," she begs, her voice husky with need.
I lift my head, smiling. "Please what, witch?"
"Please touch me."
I chuckle, a low, predatory sound. "I am touching you."
She glares at me, but there's no heat in it. "You know what I mean."
I do. And I want it as much as she does. I kneel before her, my hands going to the waistband of her pants. I make quick work of the button and zipper, then slowly peel the fabric down her legs. She steps out of them, standing before me in nothing but a pair of simple lace panties.
My breath catches. Here, in the quiet of the mountains, away from the chaos and the danger, she's more breathtaking than ever. I hook my fingers in the sides of her panties, sliding them down her hips, down her legs, until she's completely bare to my gaze.
"Your turn," she says, her voice trembling slightly as she reaches for my shirt. I let her pull it over my head, hissing slightly as the fabric scrapes against the cuts on my side. Her eyes widen with concern.
"Let me," she says, her hands glowing with a faint, green light. She presses them gently against my wounds, and I feel a warm, tingling sensation as her magic knits my skin back together. The pain fades, replaced by the soothing comfort of her touch.
"Thank you," I say, my voice hoarse with emotion.
"Always," she replies, her gaze never leaving mine. Her hands move to my belt, and she makes quick work of it, then my pants, until I'm as naked as she is.
I pull her on top of me, her legs wrapping around my waist as if they've always belonged there.
"What?" she asks, a blush creeping up her neck as she catches me staring at her.
"Just memorizing this," I say, my fingers tracing the curve of her hip. "This moment. You and me. Just... us."
Tears well up in her eyes, and I gently wipe one away with my thumb.
"Hey, none of that."
"I'm not sad," she says, shaking her head. "I'm just... overwhelmed. In a good way."
"Good," I murmur, lowering my head to kiss her again. This time, my hand drifts down her stomach, through the soft curls at the juncture of her thighs. She's already wet, ready for me. I slide a finger through her folds, circling her clit, and she arches against me with a soft moan.
"Malachi," she breathes, her hips rocking against my hand. "Don't tease."
"I'm not teasing," I say, though I am, a little. I love the way she responds to me, the way her body comes alive under my touch. I slide a finger inside her, then another, reveling in the way she clenches around me. "I'm learning."
I learn what makes her gasp, what makes her moan, what makes her beg. I learn the rhythm she likes, the pressure that sends her hurtling toward the edge. And when she's right there, trembling and panting, I pull my hand away.
"Malachi!" she cries, her eyes flying open in protest.
"I want to be inside you when you come," I say, settling between her thighs. "I want to feel you around me."
I position myself at her entrance, my gaze locked with hers. "Are you sure?" I ask, giving her one last out.
She answers by wrapping her legs around my hips, pulling me closer. "I've never been more sure of anything in my life."
I push inside her, slowly, giving her time to adjust to my size. She's tight, hot, and perfect. The feeling of being inside her, of being connected to her in this most intimate way, is almost overwhelming. It feels like coming home.
I start to move, my strokes slow and deep at first, then faster, harder as the need builds. The cot creaks in protest, but I barely hear it. All I can hear is the sound of our breathing, the slap of our bodies, the soft moans and sighs escaping her lips.
"Look at me," I command, my voice rough with emotion. "Stay with me, Juniper. Let me see you."
Her eyes flutter open, and the raw emotion I see there takes my breath away. It's not just desire. It's trust. It's vulnerability. It's love. And in that moment, I know I'm lost. Completely and utterly lost to her.
I increase my pace, driving into her, chasing the release that's just out of reach. She meets me thrust for thrust, her hips rising to meet mine, her nails digging into my back. The pleasure builds, a tidal wave cresting higher and higher, until I can't hold back any longer.
"Come for me, Juniper," I growl, my hand finding her clit, rubbing it in tight circles. "Now."
She shatters around me, her orgasm ripping through her with a force that takes my breath away.
She cries out my name, her body convulsing, her inner walls clamping down on me like a vise.
The sensation pushes me over the edge, and I follow her into oblivion, my own release tearing through me, hot and intense.
I collapse on top of her, careful not to crush her with my weight. We lie there for a long time. The world feels quieter. Not empty. Not distant. Just… still.
Juniper lies beside me, her breathing slow and even, her head resting against my shoulder like it belongs there. The bond hums softly. Content. Satisfied. I stare up at the rough stone ceiling, listening to the steady rhythm of her breathing. Memorizing it. Because something about this?—
This moment?—
Feels like a line I can’t uncross. Not that I want to. But it changes things. It has to. Juniper shifts slightly, her hand brushing against my chest.
“Hey,” she murmurs, half-asleep.
“Hey.”
She tilts her head just enough to look at me.
“You’re thinking again.”
“Always.”
She hums softly. “Dangerous habit.”
“Occupational hazard.”
A faint smile tugs at her mouth. Then fades.
“Malachi,” she says quietly.
There’s something in her tone that makes my chest tighten.
“Yes?”
“If this—” She hesitates. “If it gets worse… the bond… everything…”
I know what she’s asking. What she’s afraid of. I turn slightly, meeting her gaze fully.
“I won’t force you,” I say.
Not now. Not ever. Her breath catches.
“You say that like it matters.”
“It does.”
“It goes against everything you are,” she says.
“Maybe,” I admit. “But it doesn’t go against what I choose.”
She studies me, searching. For what, I’m not sure. Then?—
“Okay,” she says softly.
Just that. But it’s enough. More than enough. She settles back against me, her breathing evening out again. Sleep comes for her quickly. For me?—
Not so much. I stay awake longer than I should. Watching. Listening. Thinking.
Because tomorrow we go back. Back to the anchors. Back to the fight. Back to whatever’s waiting for us beneath that council building. But tonight?—
Tonight I let myself have this. Just for a few hours. Just long enough to remember what it feels like?—
To want something I can’t control.
And choose it anyway.