Chapter 26 #3
‘You need a healer.’ I fold my arms, debating whether or not I’m selfless enough to drag him into the streets of Rerta to find one right now.
‘What I need –’ he taps me on my nose – ‘is for you to lie back against that pillow.’
His hands go to his belt buckle and, immediately, I’m liquid.
I’ve spent enough time arguing with Astin to know what my chances are of winning once his mind’s set, and, let’s be honest, I’m hardly going to be the best advocate for going outside in the cold when the alternative is getting warmed up by the attractive man currently removing his trousers.
I shuffle to the head of the bed, drinking in the sight of him. In the cabin, I was so overwhelmed that things were finally happening, I never truly took the time to look properly.
Scratches aside, his chest is smooth save for a light scattering of dark hair.
His torso is toned, muscles on his abdomen flexing as he bends to pull off his trousers.
A pang of guilt reverberates through me at the sight of the badly stitched wound on his leg, which, I hate to admit, could do with some professional attention. ‘I really think we should –’
His underwear drops to the floor, and – oh. Oh. I’ve been so preoccupied with his upper body I’ve never given much thought to the lower. This was clearly a mistake. Who cares about his arms, when I could be staring at that instead?
‘I think you should stop talking now,’ he says.
The best I can do is nod as he crawls over me. His kisses are a charm, putting me under a spell I’ll never escape from, wouldn’t want to escape from. He holds me tight before his fingers drift lower, sliding between my thighs, capturing my moan with another searing kiss as he finds a rhythm.
I move against him, burrowing my nose into his neck, licking the trail of sweat there, biting down when his fingers press into me harder.
His breath is hot against my ear, frantic, and the scent of spice is everywhere, dizzying and intoxicating, but my power lies dormant, knowing this moment is magic enough.
It’s that knowledge that has me kissing him with more force, nudging his hand away and rolling on top, wanting to take care of him.
My lips glide down his throat, his chest, careful to avoid his scratches.
His whole body is tense once I reach his belly, and he wraps my hair in his fist, like he can’t decide whether to push me further or haul me back up.
I take him in my mouth before he can decide.
His hips jerk, and the sound he makes has every part of me tightening as I glance up beneath lowered lashes.
He stares at me with his mouth parted, his pupils dark.
Eyes locked on his, I smirk and dip my head again.
The grunt he makes is guttural, involuntary, and I’d give anything to hear it again.
I want him undone. Mindless. I want him to think of nothing but the way I make him feel, but before I can do just that, he tugs my hair.
‘Come here,’ he says in a low, rough voice.
Something about the way he says the command forces me to comply.
I climb up his body, and, immediately, I’m flipped on to my back.
Dark locks fall over his forehead as he settles between my legs.
He trails a finger along my jaw, like he wants to memorise the feel of me.
I respond in kind, skimming a path along his arms and across his shoulders, relishing in the fact he trusts me to do this.
His eyes never leave mine as he pushes inside me.
I gasp at the feel of him, both new and familiar all at once.
We might be discovering new parts of each other, drawing out sensations and noises that are entirely foreign, but it’s a natural progression of the last two years of our lives, like every touch and half-smile were always going to lead to this.
He stills, and hesitation crosses his expression.
His fingers turn tentative against my shoulders, acting as though I’m fragile in some way, and then he presses his face into my neck.
His muscles are strained, trembling, and every slide of his body is torturously slow.
I move against him, but he refuses, refuses to give me what I want.
He’s holding back.
And I know why. Damian told me our hexes were twofold, and that much wasn’t a lie at least. Astin lost his heart to protect himself from being hurt again, and being close to me risks that.
Just like my hex allowed me to avoid getting close to anyone. Maybe, deep down, a part of me wanted the excuse, because I’d always been afraid my Souleater side would ruin everything instead.
But I’m in control now. No matter how much spice floods this room, I have no desire to take a single emotion from him. I don’t need to be afraid.
Astin doesn’t either.
I force him to look at me. ‘You’re very gentle for someone who claims they can’t care.’
He pauses. ‘You don’t want gentle?’
‘I want you to lose control,’ I reply. ‘Because isn’t that what love is? It’s messy and terrifying, and it’s giving all of yourself to someone knowing it might go wrong, but it’s worth the risk to have that feeling, even for the briefest of moments.’
‘Dais –’
‘I’m not going to pretend that one day you won’t lose me.
I could be pecked to death by birds tomorrow, but –’ My impassioned speech is interrupted by his splutter of laughter, which is rude, honestly.
It’s a legitimate concern of mine. Once he’s composed himself, I continue.
‘Anything could happen at any time, but won’t it have been worth it, to have had me?
Truly, and fully, had me? You have me, Astin.
’ My voice is barely a whisper as I cup his cheek and finish, ‘So have me.’
His gaze flickers, and then it snaps. That cresting wave breaks.
His pupils go dark. He hitches my knees to my chest, pushing in deeper, one final moment of carefully measured control, before we’re both lost, a tangle of limbs, of tongues and teeth and lips, of fingers grasping for every inch of skin we can find.
He pulls me upright until I’m sinking down on him, my head thrown back as he places open-mouthed kisses along my chest. My eyes flutter shut as pleasure builds, and for once I’m not scrabbling in the dark, searching for the small amount of joy only I can see, but instead I’m surrounded by blinding light because joy is all I know, all there is to find, with Astin panting my name and his hands on my body, because he’s here, and he’s alive, and he wants me, Souleater and all.
I cry out as that pleasure peaks, and he captures the sound with his mouth until we’re falling together, tumbling over the precipice as one. My spine arches as I clench around him, while he groans a curse, shuddering beneath me.
I can’t help but giggle once he’s settled at my side, tucking me against him.
He raises a brow. ‘What’s funny?’
‘Nothing.’ I grin. ‘I’m just happy.’
Deliriously, deliciously happy. There’s an orb inside my chest, burning brightly, a glowing sun that swells and swells the more I’m with him.
He kisses the top of my forehead. ‘Mm. Me too.’
My smile, if it’s possible, grows. ‘That’s an emotion, if you hadn’t noticed. Happiness.’
If he can feel that, he can feel anything. He knows exactly what I’m insinuating, but he offers no comment, instead pulling me so I’m draped over him. I refrain from pointing out he’s acting awfully clingy for someone who claims to be heartless.
‘So what do you think? Five stars at last?’ he asks, tucking my head beneath his chin. ‘We had to get lucky with a room eventually.’
‘Definitely a higher thread count than the last place. Plus, no lumps in the mattress. Although,’ I add slyly, ‘some might argue we got lucky with every room. I’d have been secretly disappointed to find two beds.’
I don’t need to look to know his eyes will be rolling. ‘We weren’t lucky in the Duck in the Dark. Sleeping next to you wearing that nightdress almost killed me.’ He strokes a slow, lazy path down my arm. ‘I wanted to rip it off you.’
‘I wouldn’t have objected.’ I snuggle closer, slurring my words as a wave of exhaustion hits me. Light still shines through the curtains, but the events of the last few days are catching up with me.
‘Hm.’ He presses a kiss to my forehead, while his hand glides down my arm. ‘I am, you know.’
‘You are what?’
‘Earlier, you said, You’re mine, and you’re right. I am. But not because I’m your loophole. I’m just . . . yours.’
That feeling in my chest swells to the point I think it might burst.
I’m just yours.
They might not be the three words I’ve imagined, the ones I’ve been desperate to hear my whole life, but somehow, they’re better.
Coming from him, they’re everything.