Furyborn

Page 95

“Then I would take you there,” he said, “and not rest until you’d had your fill of me.”

“That’s just what I want.” She kissed the triangle of skin above his collar and whispered, “I want you to fill me.”

She stretched onto her toes to kiss him before he could reply, and when his arms came feverishly around her, she grinned against his mouth and let out a delighted laugh.

“Bed,” she whispered, pulling him blindly toward it.

He backed her up against one of the bedposts, his mouth never leaving hers. He kissed her as if the air inside her was what he needed to survive. She put her hands behind her, against the post to brace herself, and arched toward him.

“Yes,” he said breathlessly, fumbling with the line of buttons down the front of her gown. He slid the bodice down her torso so that it pooled around her waist. Her breasts fell free, and he lowered his mouth to them at once, groaning against her skin.

Rielle twisted beneath him until she could bear the ache between her legs no longer. “I need you,” she gasped, clutching his shoulders. “Please, Audric.”

He pulled his tunic over his head, then undid his belt, kicked off his boots. He moved her toward the bed, sucking gently on her bottom lip. Together they tugged on her gown until it fell to the floor.

Audric murmured, “My God, Rielle, you’re beautiful,” and helped her down onto the pile of blankets strewn across the bed. His hands traced the curves of her breasts, her waist, her hips. He kissed each of her bruises from the shadow trial, murmuring her name against her skin more lovingly than any prayer.

When his hips settled on hers at last, Rielle barely managed to stifle her scream. He threaded his fingers through her own, pressed her hands gently back against the pillows. At each shift of his hips, a new wave of pleasure surged inside her.

Shaking beneath the hard, warm lines of his body, she said desperately, “Audric, please.”

“Wait.” He kissed the curve of her chin, pulled slightly away. “Wait a moment.”

“No, now.”

“Before we do this—”

She heard the cautious note in his voice and understood. “I’m taking a tonic for it.” She tenderly touched his face. “Please don’t worry.”

He nodded, lowered his mouth to hers, murmured, “I love you, Rielle,” and entered her in one smooth movement.

She cried out, bucking against him. She felt impossibly, deliciously full and touched his face with a breathless laugh.

“Are you all right?” he whispered.

“Fine.” She clutched his arms, smiling up at him. “Don’t leave.”

“Never. I’m sorry—”

“No. Don’t be sorry. I’m fine.” She touched two fingers to his lips, let out a shaky laugh. “I’m more than fine.”

He grinned, kissed the soft skin beneath her eyes, and began to move inside her. Rielle gasped, arching up against him.

“Look at me,” he urged her quietly, and when she locked eyes with him, the focused devotion on his face made her heart swell. “I’m right here, and I love you. I love you, I love you.”

“Kiss me,” she whispered, trembling.

He obeyed, his mouth warm and slow on hers, echoing the gentle thrusts of his hips.

“Should I stop?” He kissed along her jawline. The soft scrape of his teeth sent delicate chills across her skin. She closed her eyes and shifted beneath him. Pleasure swelled slowly up her body, warm and unhurried.

“Don’t stop,” she murmured. “Not ever.”

“Rielle. Rielle.” He moved a bit harder against her, his voice darkening. “Tell me what you want, and I’ll do it.”

She twisted in his gentle grip with a sigh. “I want to hear what you want. That is my wish.”

“I want to make you come apart in my arms. I want you to forget your fear, your worries, whatever darkness haunts your thoughts.” He slid one hand down her body to their joined hips, stroked between her legs.

She cursed, slammed her palm against the bed, fumbling for an anchor. His hand found hers, steadied it in his own.

“What else do you want?” she murmured, gazing up at him. She moved her hips against his own.

“I—” His voice broke. He shook his head, shuddering as she slid a hand up his arm. She brought his hand to her mouth, kissed his palm.

“You want to make me scream.”

He made a small, choked sound. His hips jerked sharply.

“God, yes,” he groaned.

“Faster, then.” She touched his lips with her thumb. When he took it in his mouth, his eyes drifting shut, she shivered and smiled and hooked her leg around his. She could have watched him like this forever—losing himself in her, coming unraveled in her arms. “Please, Audric.”

Even as he obeyed, his gentleness astounded her. His hand released hers to cradle her face, then slid down to caress her breasts. The sweet ache of him inside her drew shuddering waves across her skin. She arched up into his touch, clutched the blankets in her fists.

She let out a frantic little sob. “Audric, please—”

He murmured into the hollow of her throat, his hands shaking around her, “Yes, Rielle, yes, that’s it.” The rough longing in his voice set her afire. When she slid her hands into his hair and tugged hard on his curls, he cried out against her neck, and the desperate, utterly male sound was her undoing, sending her spiraling up and up, until she fell back against the bed, pulsing golden with pleasure. She clung to him, helpless and limp, her vision a buzzing haze, and stroked his hair as his hips slowed.

And with the solid weight of Audric above her—his lips in her hair and his voice hoarse with love, her own body feeling blissfully boneless—Rielle watched the sparking bright flames around her room with no fear in her heart and thought nothing of Corien at all.

42


   Eliana

“Have you ever seen the Wolf? Talked to him? The man’s got a bad light in his eyes. You look at his face for half a minute, you see he’s been ripped apart and sewn back together more times than anyone ought to have been.”

—Interrogation of an unnamed Red Crown defector, preceding execution

Simon brought them to a Red Crown safe house deep in a pine wood at the base of a cliff—a small log cabin, draped in moss and cloaked by a tangled thicket of trees.

As soon as Eliana stepped inside, she heard a soft cry and looked around in time to see Remy jump off a chair by a tiny stove. When she knelt to catch him, his hug nearly knocked her over.

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