“Only us,” she whimpered as her body came apart with another orgasm, this one longer, softer… sweeter. Even as he took her so roughly, the passion between them scorching the very walls around them with heat, she felt truly loved. This feeling was different than anything she’d experienced before, different in ways she still couldn’t make sense of. When he made love to her like this, it felt like lightning captured in a jar and suddenly released.
Malcolm’s mouth caught hers and he continued to drive into her until he came, filling her with his own wet heat as he continued to kiss her. His breath was ragged against her lips, his eyes clouded with passion, and Calli held on to him for dear life while her body shivered.
“You okay, honey?” he asked.
She could only murmur in reply. She’d gone from being indifferent about sex to craving it.
“Hang on, let me get you cleaned up.” He withdrew from her and gently set her down on her feet. Calli had to brace herself against the door as her legs shook. She chuckled as he awkwardly pulled up his jeans before he quickly stole a kiss and headed to the bathroom down the hall. Sex was messy, that was for sure. But she found that she didn’t mind.
Malcolm returned with tissues to help clean her up, kissing her, his lips soft as he held her close and took care of her.
“I seemed to have magicked your clothes off to God-knows-where again,” he said. “Why don’t you put something cozy on and we’ll sit by the fire?”
Calli glanced down to find herself naked except for that short skirt. Her torn panties were on the floor at her feet. “Okay.”
She managed to get upstairs and throw on a comfortable sweater dress, a fresh pair of panties, and some thick socks. She ran a brush through her wild hair and stared at her reflection in the mirror. Her lips were extra plump from kissing, and her hazel eyes had become luminous. She looked well-loved. With a happy grin she came downstairs and found Malcolm waiting for her, a cup of cocoa in hand as he sat on the couch.
She curled up beside him and took her mug from him. He pulled her legs over his lap and added a blanket to cover them both.
“You’re incredible,” Malcolm murmured, brushing her hair back from her cheeks with tender fingertips.
“So are you,” she replied.
He shrugged. “No, seriously. At the risk of sounding like I’m lost in a post-sex afterglow, I think…” He flashed her a shy smile, something so pure, it triggered some instinct in the back of her mind that had her leaning towards him.
Whatever he said, Calli knew it would level her. She held her breath.
He paused and gave a small huff of a laugh, his eyes crinkling as he continued to stare at her, light shining from those emerald depths. “I think I’m in love with you.”
She swallowed her breath, heat rose to her cheeks as she waited for him to continue, half expecting him to hedge around the words in some way. His face softened with that half-smile that he gave in unguarded moments of affection.
“For years, I ran from magic, but I also ran from love. I was afraid of something that felt real, afraid of feeling this.” The puzzlement in his voice only added to the honesty she felt in his words. “It’s like my chest is so full with the weight of loving you, it aches.” Her heart thudded as his voice dropped lower. “And now that I know what a love like this feels like, I wouldn’t give it up for anything.”
All her thoughts of the north wind and the urgency she’d felt just moments ago now turned tender and demanded that she take her time. The weight of his love settled over her like a cloak, comforting her in a way she hadn’t known she’d needed until now. This would bind them together for the rest of their lives. She didn’t want to run from the bond, wasn’t afraid of it or him. But in a way she was afraid of how much she had come to care for him. But that was a very different sort of fear. It was a fear of what she stood to lose now.
“It’s scary to care about someone this much,” she agreed. “But I want my parents had. That kind of love means everything. That kind of love builds dreams and makes wishes come true. And I’m glad I can have that with you. It’s worth every risk.”
He set his mug down on the table, then took hers from her hands and placed it beside his own. Then he leaned over on the couch and gave her a lingering, exploring kiss punctuated with soft sighs and full of ardent longing. Calli’s heart hurt, and she understood what Malcolm had meant. There was so much love inside her right now, it couldn’t be contained. Only kisses like these could ease that ache in her chest.
The night darkened around them as the fire burned low. After a while, Hades and Persephone crawled up onto the couch to join them. The kitten nestled in Malcolm’s lap and Hades lay his head on Calli’s thigh. This was a perfect moment. She wanted nothing else in life than to have a thousand more nights like this.
A few hours passed with them snuggled on the couch, the fire still glowing warm and bright thanks to a spell Malcolm had figured out. Then, close to midnight, Hades jerked awake and barked like a hellhound. He raced for the front door, almost knocking over an end table along the way. Persephone hissed and darted up Calli’s arm to perch on the back of the couch, her fur on end.
“Hades!” Malcolm shouted, then froze. “Wait. Did you feel that? That burst of magic?”
She nodded. It had made the hairs on her arm stand up and sent a frisson of otherworldly awareness down her spine. A moment later, there was a frantic pounding on the front door.
“Stay here.” Malcolm rushed down the hall to answer. She heard a panicked female voice, and the deep pained groan of a man.
“Hurry. This way.” Malcolm entered the living room, followed by two women helping a man walk between them. It was Reginald Wellesley, Malcolm’s father. And he looked ill, terribly ill, his skin was almost white, his eyes sunken, and his breathing labored.
Calli got up and pushed the coffee table out of the way so the women could ease Reginald down on the couch. Malcolm helped, taking most of his father’s weight. Before Calli could ask anything, one of the women turned to Malcolm. She wore a dark green velvet gown and had a midnight blue cloak draped around her shoulders.
“Malcolm Wellesley,” she addressed him. “I am Lady Serafina Batsford. You are hereby ordered to report to the Council tonight and swear your oath of service.”
“Wait—” Calli looked at the witch. “Who are you? You don’t have the right to tell him to do anything!”
The witch didn’t even acknowledge her, continuing to stare at Malcolm. “If you fail to do so, your father will die. Most likely tonight.”
