He didn’t stop. She was close. He flicked her clit again and sank deep. It was all she needed. Her climax was powerful, the warm heat of her clenched at his cock, milking it with powerful trembles.
He lost the rhythm of his strokes, his need for his own climax stealing his control. Then he was there, one stroke, then another as he joined her in release. He held her still, riding out the last sensations as he panted above her.
She collapsed onto her stomach and he followed her down, careful to keep most of his weight off her.
“So much for being quiet,” she muttered into the pillow.
He couldn’t help the smile that statement spawned as he brushed some of her hair away from her face and dropped a kiss on her shoulder.
She opened one eye to glare at him. “Wipe that smile off your face. I hold you entirely responsible for this.”
As well she should. He’d taken her desire for quiet as a personal challenge and felt oddly euphoric at wringing such a reaction from her.
He couldn’t stop himself from touching her, stroking her back with gentle hands, utterly entranced with the feel of her soft skin under his. This was what he’d yearned for, what he’d fought for. Together they would create a home, a family.
He’d battled countless people all for a chance at this—something that was totally his.
He dropped a kiss onto the middle of her back and slid out of bed, picking up his washcloth and resuming wiping away all signs of the day’s battle.
She propped herself on her arms and turned to him, blowing her hair out of her face as she did so.
“I take it we’re not going back to the Keep tonight,” she said.
He shook his head. “I’m tired of being caged in stone. I’d like to be among my people again.”
She didn’t question it, just grabbed a blanket and pulled it over her. She curled up under it, folding her arm under her head as she watched him bathe.
“You’re happy,” she said.
Fallon paused. Was that what he was? He’d never given much thought to the emotion. The struggle for survival and the day-to-day tedium of managing what he’d taken so long to assemble often drove out any consideration for happiness.
His needs were simple. Safety for those he loved, power to bend the world to his view, and the strength to create those first two. Happiness had never entered into any of that.
Shea lifted up, understanding on her face. They, both of them, had spent so much time just surviving what this world had to throw at them, that they’d never given much consideration to the softer emotions like happiness and joy.
“I’m happy too,” she said, a soft amusement on her face. “I didn’t think I would be, but, somehow, despite everything, I am.”
Fallon stood rooted in his spot, his goals and focus in life realigning. This woman, she was what made everything worth it. She was what he’d been striving to deserve. He might not have known it at the beginning, hadn’t even recognized it when she was standing right in front of him, but he knew it now. All the trials and disasters in his life, they were all leading up to this moment, this gift that was beyond anything he’d ever received.
She was his moon and his stars, the light to his darkness. If she asked it, he would do just about anything for her, give anything. He’d known for a long time she was special to him, known he’d loved her. He’d die for her. More importantly, he’d live to relish each moment spent with her at his side.
He threw the washcloth back into the basin and stalked across the room. Shea sat up with an interested expression on her face. She didn’t shy from him, though he knew his expression had turned fierce, some of the darkness inside peering out.
He tore back the blanket, one thought on his mind. Conquer and possess. Another woman might have felt fear, tried to escape. Not Shea, she gave him her crooked smile, the one that said she planned to give all she got.
This time, his passion lacked the finesse of before. It was raw and desperate, mirroring the feelings surging through him.
It was a long time later that they parted. Fallon rolled onto his back and then hauled her to his side.
“I don’t want you to just be my telroi,” he said to the ceiling above. “I want you to rule at my side, an equal partner—not just in my eyes but our peoples’ as well.”
Shea lifted her head, her expression hard to read.
He held himself still, even as he knew she didn’t quite understand the significance of what he was asking. If she accepted, it was something he couldn’t take back. She would be his equal in all things, her word would be obeyed with the same rigorous diligence as his. If he fell, she would pick up the mantle of warlord in his place and lead. They would be the mother and father of the Trateri people, equal in responsibilities and benefits.
It was something very few warlords ever offered their telrois. His grandfather was the last Hawkvale to unite the people, and even he had never considered elevating his wife to that position, beloved though she had been.
As Telroi, Shea had authority over his warriors, but it was an extension of his own good name. As his equal, she would have her own name and authority, not reliant on his. If he ever fell, she’d be protected in a way she wouldn’t be if she remained just a telroi.
