He popped a bottle of sparkling wine. “A congratulations.”
She narrowed her eyes. “This isn’t over yet. I still have the actual Undertaking to survive.”
Pouring two glasses, he handed her one, then clinked their glasses together. “You still deserve it.”
He beckoned her to join him on the blanket. She did, and leaned her head against his shoulder.
Everything was so different with her than it had been with Kestra. Sure, both women had made him satisfied in bed, but with Kamine, he cravedmore. Not only of her body—which he loved each inch of—but of her mind and soul.
“I can feel you thinking.” Her words rumbled against him.
“I’m thinking of you.”
“Great thoughts to have.”
He chuckled and he wrapped his arms around her to bring her closer. He kissed the top of her head.
They sat there, just existing in each other’s presence. He reflected on the past few months, and the joy it brought him. Even on days where he woke up with his knees and elbows stiffer, when the dread of the curse consumed him, he thought of Kamine and the worries fluttered away, like pages flipping in a book.
Then, Kamine started rubbing his thigh, which made him drag his fingers up and down her back, which led to her unzipping his pants, then taking him in her mouth.
He pulled her chin away from him and laid her down so she could stare at the sky while he fucked her. He unbuttoned the front of her dress, kissing her skin as he went, revealing his favorite curls. When she was fully bare, and the chill of the air caused her skin to pebble, he took off his own clothes, and put his body on hers. He slid into her slowly, taking his time to go deep, to that spot he knew would have her writhing. While his one hand rubbed her clit, the other leveraged his body weight to hover above her.
She cupped the back of his neck and brought him down to her, kissing him, nipping at his lips as he rocked in and out. She pressed her mouth to those two stones in his clavicle, savoring everything they represented. As she wrapped her legs around him to anchor her hips up so that he hit her even deeper, she moaned loudly, unafraid of the world below them, or of the Gods above them, hearing.
It was just the two of them. No past, no future, just the present where their two bodies collided, creating a rumble across the land that would be felt forever in their souls.
Seventeen
They lay on their backs, enjoying the night air on their sweaty, exposed skin. Grimot dragged his fingers up and down her navel, a whisper of a touch, memorizing every mole on her pale flesh. They were more beautiful than the stars above; she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.
“I never want to leave,” she confessed.
Grimot smiled—truly smiled—because he never wanted her to leave either. He wanted her next to him forever. He wanted to wake up with her each morning, and fall asleep with her each night. With the way she talked, perhaps that future would be possible, or perhaps Grimot was delusional. He still had a lot of apologizing to do.
He rested on his side, anchoring his elbow under his head to really look at her.
“I’m sorry for traumatizing you on that first day,” he said. He was so blinded by his pent up anger and the pressure of his own success that he’d taken it out on her. It hadn’t been fair, and he hated that he had allowed those emotions to cause him to be so cruel.
She bit her lip, as if reliving the moment, and how she had been humiliated in front of everyone. “You really were such an asshole to me, but I think the most traumatizing part was you calling me Kammy.” She gagged, theatrically. “Be grateful I never called you Grim.”
He shuddered at the sound of that nickname that only Kestra had ever used, one he hated even back then. “I’m very grateful.” He brushed a piece of her hair behind her ear. “And I am truly sorry.” The words would never be enough, but one day, he hoped he would prove how guilty he felt.
“I forgive you,” she said. “Only because of the great orgasms.”
His heart raced as he asked, “Is that the only reason you keep coming back? Because of the sex?”
She pondered his question for a moment, and Grimot swallowed down the bile rising in his throat.
“Maybe at first, but I don’t think so anymore,” she finally admitted.
“Good, because I like you for more than just the sex, too.”
A flash of lighting, and a growl of thunder sounded somewhere in the distance. Growing up, he’d loved thunderstorms. The loudness of it, the anticipation of when light would streak the sky. After his Undertaking, he resented storms for a long time. They reminded him of how desperately he had reached for a goal, only to be left unsatisfied afterwards. It was the rush of the game, just like Kamine had mentioned.
Tonight, though, he breathed a sigh of relief that his childhood ache for the power of the storms was back. It made him whole again.
“What else do you like about me?” she crooned.
