I ran my fingers through his hair and tugged him back up to me. His pupils were blown wide with wanting, and as I leaned in to take his bottom lip gently between my teeth, I circled against him, aching for him, begging for him. Even through our clothes, I could feel how hard he was, how desperately he wanted me, and with my body primed and humming from my hours of training, I nearly finished right then and there, simply from the friction of his hips against mine.
“Gareth,” I gasped out, “either take me right now or let me be so I can do it myself.”
He groaned, tugging down one of the straps of my undershirt with shaking fingers. “Oh gods, what an image. Can’t we do both?”
“Later. First, I need you inside me. Fast.”
“Absolutely,” he agreed, his breath hot against my mouth, and when we kissed, it was wild and hungry, like we’d never done it before and had been bursting to, or maybe like we’d never do it again. His hands were in my hair, and then they were tugging off my shirt, and I was barebefore him, flushed and panting, and he bent to kiss my breasts like a man undone. I fumbled with the buckle of his trousers, my vision a cloud of color, my fingers clumsy and trembling, and a spectacular want like nothing I’d ever felt before shooting through my body like stars.
We parted only once—to slide off my trousers, to tug his down over his hips—and then he dragged his hands down my body to cup my ass and hoist me up. I opened my legs for him, holding onto him with one hand and gripping the nearby table with the other, and when he pushed inside me it was with a rough, masculine groan, almost animal with need.
The sound made me dizzy. I tugged on his hair, his tie, the tails of his shirt—anything to bring him deeper inside me. Every hard thrust pushed me back against the wall, and each one left me a little more out of my mind. Waves of pleasure pulsed through me, golden and shimmering; I needed more. I fisted my hand in Gareth’s hair, pressed my lips to his ear, and whispered hotly, “Harder, Gareth. Give me everything you have. I’m almost there.”
“Yes,” he rasped, the word catching in his throat. “Mara,Mara. Anything for you, darling.Anything.”
He held me flush against him as he shifted me onto the little table by the door, and I’d never felt as safe as I did during those few seconds in his arms, so treasured, so desired. Once my hips settled on the edge, he held the back of my neck with one hand, grabbed the table with the other, and drove back into me at just the right angle to make me cry out, sharp and wanton and not caring if anyone heard.
I hooked my legs around his thighs and pressed my forehead against his. Our gazes locked as we moved together, frantic and fast, the table knocking sharply against the wall with each thrust. Gareth’s books fell to the floor, forgotten. Our rhythm was growing erratic, desperate, our breathing ragged. The wet slap of our hips echoed obscenely in the grand, quiet room, and it was this—the raw, uninhibited sound of ourpassion—that lifted me up and over the edge. I finished suddenly and hard, trembling all around him, tears springing to my eyes from the sheer stunning pleasure of it all.
“Beautiful,” he gasped out. “Mara, you’re perfect, you’re everything.Gods, you feel incredible. I…I can’t…” He dropped his head helplessly onto my shoulder.
I wrapped my arms around him, still shaking, still coming quietly around him. “That’s it, Gareth,” I murmured, kissing his hair, his temple, the sweet shell of his ear. “You’re close. I can feel it. Let go, let me have you. I’m right here.”
He pressed his face against my neck, his mouth hot and wet and his teeth lightly grazing my skin, and when he came, with a few final sharp thrusts and a cry so deep and primal that it almost sounded like pain, I closed my eyes and held him to me as tight as I could. I listened to his breathing, felt his blood roar under my palms, and imagined that I could somehow sink into him, and him into me. That there was no war, no danger, no uncertain tomorrow. That we could live the rest of our lives in an unbreakable embrace.
***
Later that night, we lay together in silence as a parade of thin clouds drifted across the moon. I absently traced the lines of Gareth’s bare chest, mulling over the questions that had been hovering on the tip of my tongue for days.
“I’m leaving tomorrow,” I said slowly.
He pulled me closer, his arms warm and solid around me, and kissed my brow. “The worst sentence ever to be uttered.”
“And I won’t see you again until we gather at Big Deep.”
As soon as I said the name, he went very still. Even his breathing grew quieter. Then, a beat later, he began toying gently with the ends of my hair.
I propped myself up on my elbow so I could see his eyes. “Is there anything you want to talk to me about before then? I haven’t wanted to push you, and there’s been so much to do, but I saw your face when you proposed the idea at our meeting. You looked like you’d had all the life punched out of you.”
He smiled grimly, staring at the ceiling. “It certainly felt something like that.”
“Will you tell me about your past? What it was like growing up at Big Deep?”
“Oh, what’s to tell? I was an adorable child and a rebellious teenager. Very ordinary, really.”
His careless tone didn’t fool me for a second. I touched his cheek and turned his face toward mine. “Don’t do that, don’t push me away,” I murmured, echoing what he’d said at my bedside. “That may work with other people, but it doesn’t with me.”
He softened at the memory. “You’ll never let me forget that one, will you?”
“As if you won’t be using it on me as often as you can.”
“Well, that’s true.” He drew in a breath and resumed playing with my hair, concentrating on the slip of each lock through his fingers. “It was a great disappointment to both my parents when I decided to pursue academia instead of following in their footsteps and enlisting. My father was a strategist in the Lower Army and was far more interested in that than in being a father. I hardly knew him. Hardly saw him, really. And my mother…”
His mouth thinned. “She started drinking during her service in the Upper Army, and she never stopped. It’s killing her, especially now that Father’s gone. She’s not a kind woman at the best of times, and the drink makes it worse. I’ve never been happier than I was the day I realized I’d grown too strong for her to hurt me anymore. Until the day I met you, that is.” He looked back up at me, the shadows on hisface vanishing the moment his eyes locked with mine. “And every day I’ve spent with you since then has brought me more joy than the last.”
My whole body warmed at his words. “Even when I’m angry with you?”
“Angry, coy, blissfully euphoric in the wake of fantastic sex. I love it all. Every day.” He kissed my fingers, his gaze soft on my face. “Every moment.”
