Chapter 5 #2
There would be no recovering after him.
How could she possibly give herself to another now?
And worse, what if her future husband was awful in bed?
Then she would be trapped. A marriage without love was one thing, but a lackluster sex life was something else entirely.
Suddenly, the thought of having to give her body to another male left her sick with dread.
Reif tucked one hand behind his head, propping himself up on the mound of pillows so she could see more of his face. His other hand, however, remained firmly on her ass.
“What troubles you so soon? Are you in pain?” His brow crinkled in worry. “I have a salve if—”
“It’s not that. I feel wonderful.” Sated and spent, but wonderful. She tucked her hands beneath her chin to look up at him. “I just worry I may have made a mistake.”
Warmth faded from his eyes, so they reminded her of a frostbitten ocean. “With me?”
“Yes. If you recall, my lord, before we began our evening, you warned me no other would ever compare.” Chewing on her bottom lip, her fingers brushed the sensitive area of her neck where she still bore his mark. “And now, I fear you may have been right.”
The corner of Reif’s mouth ticked up in a knowing smirk. “You know, my lady, we don’t have to limit ourselves to one night. If you so chose, we could continue with your studies of sexual intimacy for as long as you like.”
Her breath caught, held fast in her lungs. “For how long?”
Days? Weeks? Did she dare hope for months? Because Cyra knew the longer she shared his bed, the more difficult it would be to leave.
Reif shrugged then, rolling his shoulders, and gave her bottom a squeeze. “Is forever too long for you?”
She blinked, unsure she’d heard him correctly. “F-forever?”
Reif sat up in the bed then, taking her with him.
Her legs fell over either side of his so she straddled him, and the sheet fell away, pooling around them in a puddle of midnight satin.
“Cyra Firebane, I am aware of the reputation that precedes me, and I know if I was to make any proclamation of love, there is a very good chance you would laugh in my face.”
Her lips twitched but he captured her chin, ensuring she couldn’t look away from him.
“However.” All humor bled from his face and his voice dropped. “If you were to agree to be my wife, on my honor, I would pledge all of my loyalty to you.”
Nervous energy skittered through her, causing her stomach to flip, and she reared back.
This was not at all what she expected from their arrangement.
She was supposed to find a husband during Midsummer.
She’d planned for someone slightly less enigmatic, a bit more dull around the edges, not anyone nearly as dazzling as the Lord of House Azurvend.
“Lord Marintide, are you asking me to marry you?”
“I am asking you to consider it, yes.”
“But we don’t even know each other,” she countered quickly, uncertain as to why she was trying to talk herself out of it.
“And yet, you would marry a complete stranger come Midsummer.” Reif cupped the back of her neck, drawing her close, so she was helpless to do anything but gaze into his eyes.
“I know enough, my lady. I understand the ideals of love may not be written in the stars for us, but despite popular belief I am kind. Most days I’m genuine and I’m exceptionally loyal to those I love.
I have no doubt I can make you laugh, and I will never give you a reason to distrust me.
And if all of that is not cause enough, I know for a fact I’m handsome. ”
He winked and she melted into him. Because of course he remembered all of the qualities she listed in order to fall in love.
Her nose was beginning to tingle and the last thing she wanted was to become a blubbering mess of emotion in front of him.
She blinked rapidly, fluttering her lashes to disguise the threat of tears.
“But why me?” she asked.
“Because I can see myself falling in love with you.” Reif dragged two fingers over the mark he left behind on her neck and she shivered. “Because I don’t like to share what’s mine.”
Mine.
Cyra quite liked the sound of that as well.
“And because…” Reif continued, his voice a rough whisper between them. “All I’ve wanted to do all night is kiss you.”
Shoving her tousled hair from her face, Cyra leaned forward, until she shared the same air as him. “A pity we don’t have any mistletoe.”
“I don’t need a magical flower to know you belong to me.” Reif’s grin sent a burst of heat between her thighs.
She couldn’t recall if he kissed her or if she kissed him, but the moment their lips touched, her magic scorched through to the surface.
An array of flames ignited, rising up in welcome as the full might of Reif’s power crashed into her.
Sparks danced and swirled around the rogue wave in a crescendo of magnified energy.
The collision stole her breath and his thoughts slammed into her, the beating of his heart blended with her own, until she was so aware, so attuned to him, that even her soul recognized him.
A fiery blaze was surrounded by the crushing swell of water, and Cyra lurched forward, into Reif’s arms, as the bond snapped into place, binding her to him.
“Reif,” she gasped his name.
The lulling timbre of his voice slipped into her mind. “My little fire queen.”
She knew he felt it, there was no way he could ignore such an intense sensation as their magic claiming one another.
Yet he didn’t stop. He didn’t pull away.
He didn’t refuse her. Instead, he deepened the kiss, so it was raw and punishing, like he was starved for her.
And it was then Cyra realized she’d not only found her future husband.
But also her mate.