She tilted her head, looking at him through heavy lids. He was close enough for her fingertips to skim down the plane of his chest, landing lightly on his belt buckle. “And if I ask you to offer yourself to me?”
“I was yours long ago. All I am, all I will be, I offer to you.” His palms slid around her waist.
“I will take your offering.” Her arms circled his shoulders, nails scratching lightly against his scalp as her fingers ran through his hair.
“Good.” His voice was husky and deep.
One hand ran up the side of her body, tracing every curve. It sent shots of lightning through her that set fires in their wake. The heat threatened to consume her. By the time his fingers curled around the side of her face, she was already tilting her head to offer her lips to him once more.
This time, when he kissed her, it was slow. Languid. He kissed her as though he would have forever to do it. He savored her like a man at the beginning of an epic journey, course charted, yet final destination unknown. A man still getting his bearings and soaking in every last detail so he would never lose sight of where he’d been, or where he was going.
Eira pushed forward. Control ebbed and flowed between them. He took, she gave, and it made her want more and more.
Cullen stepped back, and with her fists curled in his shirt over his biceps, she pulled him to the bed. When the backs of her legs hit the side, she stopped. Their eyes locked and a thousand words went unsaid. A lifetime of yearning, of sweetness and sorrow. Regret and triumph.
They simultaneously drew a shaky breath.
She tugged at his shirt. Cullen raised his arms and allowed her to pull it over his head. She mirrored the motion with her own and unlaced her bustier.
It was the first time he’d seen the mark she’d been hiding. Cullen’s eyes widened a fraction. His fingers brushed along the raised scars, darkened with Allun’s ink. He’d been around Lavette and the others from Qwint long enough to know what their runes looked like.
“What does it do?”
“Makes me stronger.”
His hand fell to the waist of her trousers. “Then you must truly be unstoppable now.”
“That’s the plan.” A smile worked its way onto her face. One that had more relief carved in it than expected. Ultimately, it didn’t matter what he thought. What was done was done, and she wasn’t ashamed. But not having him be repulsed by it was more of a relief than she expected.
The rune was quickly forgotten. There were other new things to appreciate. What difference almost a year made. Their bodies were leaner, harder. The soft glow of the candlelight nearly smoothed out the discoloration of their scars, but Eira could feel them as her hands glided over him. She explored him through touch, and he did the same to her. They mapped out each other’s bodies, relearning every curve. She felt like a general, plotting out every place she would lay waste to before the night was done.
Wordlessly, she sat on the bed, then lay back. Her knees bent, feet pulling up. His chest rose and fell with slow, heavy breaths as he stared at her, completely exposed before him. The man nearly trembled from the tight control he was exerting over his urges.
“That thing you did at Black Flag Bay…” Eira lightly ran her fingertips down her thigh to her knee and back.
“Yes?” The word was nearly a growl.
“Do it again,” she commanded.
He descended on her ravenously.
The moment his mouth closed around her, she let out a delighted sigh that nearly bordered on a squeal. All rational thoughts left her mind. Every urge that wasn’t centered around him—around savoring these glorious feelings that only he had given her—vanished. The currents within her gathered speed, moving deeply. Churning, swelling. Powerful hands slid up her body as he lavished his affections upon every sensitive part of her. Every touch was scorching.
Heavy breaths turned to low moans that rose in pitch until they felt as though they were nearly ripping from her throat as he worked her into a frenzy. He seemed to know every movement to make—as though her body was as much his as it was her own. He pushed her further and further beyond every limit she’d ever relaxed against. The only thing that remained in her mind was to succumb.
All at once, she broke with a cry as it all became too much. Her back arched. But he didn’t stop. He kept going until she physically pushed him away. Cullen kissed up her thigh with the same satisfied grin of a predator that had claimed its prey.
“Don’t you look smug?” Eira panted softly.
“I feel smug.”
“You’ll feel more than that.” She snorted softly and sat. Her quick movement had his eyes widening briefly. Eyebrows rising with an unspoken question.
“Oh?”
“It’s my turn.” She swapped their positions.
It was as satisfying to give as it was to receive. The initial uncertainty in his eyes vanished the moment she claimed him. His head tipped back, exposing his neck. A hand buried itself in her hair, pushing. Demanding more.
