Chapter 53
GRAESON
Graeson admired Kalisandre as she slept. Not a single ounce of tension wrinkled her forehead, and she looked absolutely divine as she dreamed.
My soul bond.
He still couldn’t believe it. If his entire body wasn’t buzzing with a foreign energy, he might have convinced himself that last night was only a dream.
But there was no denying the truth in front of him.
He could almost see the golden thread that connected them, the invisible string that others had spoken of.
Knowing that Kalisandre accepted him, dragon and all, brought an unshakable smile to his face.
His cloak lay on top of them, and Kalisandre was curled against him, her body molded around his. Her beautiful hair was sprawled across her cloak. Pieces of hay were woven within the locks, and he plucked a piece of straw from her hair.
Kalisandre stirred awake. Her hair was a mess, and she wore his shirt, which was wrinkled with mismatched buttons. Sleep crinkled the corners of her eyes. She was absolutely stunning, wearing what might have been the brightest smile he had ever seen.
Her eyes dipped to his lips. Without any hesitation she leaned forward and kissed him.
"Good morning," she said, resting her head back on his arm.
"Morning," he said, smiling back at her. He spun the piece of hay between two fingers. "You should wear hay more often."
"Yeah?" she hummed, nuzzling against his arm as if still half asleep.
Even though Graeson would have rather stayed there forever, he knew they needed to get up. When he looked at the skylight, the sea of color was already melting back into the sky.
He squeezed her side. "Come on. We should get up."
Kalisandre whined and wrapped her leg around his waist, scooting closer to him and locking him in place. His length pressed into her.
The others would look for them if they weren’t at breakfast, though. And if the other day was any indication, Graeson didn’t believe Kalisandre wanted to be found on a pile of hay with him, their bodies entwined.
Still, he didn’t move.
"Kal," he warned. Although he wasn’t sure who the warning was for.
Kalisandre groaned, but instead of getting up, she rolled on top of him. "Can’t we stay here?"
As she peered down at him, her deep blue eyes round and wide, Kalisandre looked so much like the girl Graeson had first known. When she was bright-eyed and afraid only of the dark. He brushed her hair behind her ear.
Her teeth scraped her bottom lip as she trailed a finger down the buttons of his shirt. "Just a little longer?"
Everywhere she trailed her finger, an insatiable fire followed in its wake. Still, Graeson hesitated giving in, even though he wanted to.
"How’s your leg?" he asked.
"Never been better," she said with a smirk.
"Are you lying to me?"
She shook her head, but he narrowed his gaze, unsure.
"Fine," she said with a sigh. "It’s fine, but if you don’t want—" She pulled away, but Graeson tugged her back, catching her by the neck.
"A few more minutes couldn’t hurt," he said, unable to deny her.
"That’s all I need," she said, a devious smirk rising. Then she was crawling down his body and tugging at the top of his pants.
"That is not what I meant," Graeson said, craving the taste of her.
She blinked up at him, her eyelashes fluttering across her sun-kissed cheeks, promising anything but innocence. "Please?"
Who was he to deny her when she looked at him with a hunger that matched his own?
He pressed his head against the hay and released a curse.
Kalisandre’s power brushed the edges of his mind, not to command him, but to coax him. "Eyes on me, Gray."
The sun streamed down from the skylight.
More than a few minutes had passed, yet neither of them had moved, both utterly and completely spent. Kalisandre’s head rested atop his chest, one of her legs sprawled over his thighs and her arm hugging his torso.
Graeson would have been perfectly content to stay there like that for the rest of the day—for eternity, if he could. He didn’t even care that his arm was falling asleep. He refused to ruin their moment of peace.
But apparently, the Fates had other plans for them. As Kalisandre drew circles on his chest, a toe-curling scream tore through the walls of the farmhouse.