“Hello,” I whispered instead. It was the only word I could manage.
He smiled and reached for me. “You look like you’re about to burst. Come here, darling.”
The sound of his voice unraveled me. I climbed into the bed and burrowed against him, and when his arms came around me and I felt his hand in my hair, the sob I’d been holding in my throat finally spilled out. I cried into his neck, pressed a kiss to his scar.
“I’m so sorry, Gareth.” I could barely speak, but it was important that he knew thatIknew how foolish I’d been. “I’m sorry for all the cruel things I said to you.”
“Mara, there’s no need—”
“Of course suffering is not a competition. I’m sorry your mother was awful to you. And loving youisworth it to me. I do love you.” My breath hitched on the words. “I love you, I love you.”
I had his quilt’s hem in a death grip. Gently he uncurled my scarred hand and brought it to his lips.
“I’d go through all of this again,” he murmured against my skin, “if it meant I could wake up and hear you say that.”
“Don’t make jokes. You’llneverhave to go through something like this again, not as long as I have breath in my body. I’ll destroy anyone who tries to hurt you. I’ll tear them apart. I’ll shatter them.”
He hummed deep in his chest. “Again, it’s not that I have a death wish, particularly, but the image of you coming to my defense in a vengeful battle fever is a truly glorious one.”
I pulled back to look at him. He touched my face, his expression crumpling.
“Please don’t cry,” he said. “It breaks my heart to see you cry.”
“I was awful to you.”
“No, you were afraid, and I don’t blame you. I shouldn’t have been so…”
“Annoying? Insistent? Blithe?”
Grinning, he wiped away my tears with his thumb. “Yes, yes, and yes. Blame it on the afterglow, but I know that doesn’t excuse my behavior.” He softened. “You’ve known such loss, more than anyone should ever have to endure. And I do understand that. I’m not so madly in love that I’ve lostallmy common sense.”
“I still think this is a terrible idea.”
He smiled softly. “Loving me?”
“And you loving me.”
“Oh, do I love you? Hmm, let me think. Yes, I do seem to recall saying something along those lines.”
I let out a shaky laugh against his chest. “You’re ruining a nice moment.”
“Well, we can’t have that.” He shifted slightly, which helped me settle even more closely against him. Then he put two gentle fingers beneath my chin, brought my mouth to his, and murmured, “Let me make it up to you.”
At first I stiffened, afraid I would hurt him. I should stop this, I thought. I should insist that he rest. But his kisses were slow, tender, and with each soft brush of his lips—against the corners of my mouth, the curve of my cheekbones, the dip of my chin—I felt the tension throughout my body unspool until all thoughts of caution bled from my mind. I needed more. I needed to confirm with touch and heat and rhythm that he was alive, that he was mine, that I was his.
I hooked a leg over his thigh and pulled myself as close to him as I could, slid my hands into his hair and held him still so I could kiss him properly. No more of these light caresses, these whispers of skin to skin. I deepened my kisses, slid my tongue against his, shivered when he groaned beneath me and grabbed my hips. The air between us turned urgent and hungry.
He tore his lips from mine, fisted his hand in my hair, and tugged my head back to expose my throat. He buried his face there and kissed every tender bit of skin, sucking and nibbling until I softly cried out in his arms. Then he ran his hand down my body, slid his fingers beneath my waistband, and found me bare and hot, slick with wanting.
“Gods, Mara,” he groaned into my hair, “you know how to drive a man to his knees.”
“You’re not on your knees,” I pointed out, grinning.
“Not yet, but the night is young.” He slid two fingers inside me,and as I arched against him, my mouth open in a silent cry, he murmured, “Are you comfortable with me ravishing you in the room next to your mother’s?”
“If they have any sense at all, she and Father will plug their ears and stay in the kitchen for the rest of the night,” I replied breathlessly, circling against his hand.
He laughed quietly, a sweet, joyful sound that had me smiling into his kisses. Then his fingers curled just right inside me, and I clamped my thighs around his arm and grabbed his hair, gasping against him. My legs were shaking, my blood roaring.
