Spirit match. She will be impossible to live with when she finds out. But he is my match in every way. Heart, body, soul.
When he came back to the bed, his emerald gaze burned into hers. ‘Lay back and let me tend to you, Clio.’
How could she refuse such a charming request? She did as he asked, leaning back against the soft pillows as he gently spread her legs. He wiped the cloth over her thighs, starting with her star birthmark, cleaning the blood away. Her blood.
‘We created magic between us. A blood oath,’ Clio mused. ‘The most powerful spell of all.’
Thomas paused in his ministrations. ‘You said blood oaths aren’t to be taken lightly.’
Clio bit her lip as he resumed cleaning her. The cloth was both cool and comforting on her heated flesh as Thomas wiped her intimate folds in gentle strokes. Echoes of the pleasure they shared rippled through her. ‘They are not.’
‘Lasting magic that once crafted, cannot be unravelled.’
‘Yes.’ She was finding it harder to speak as he pressed the linen against her with firm pressure. His gaze drifted lazily from where he worked, up her body like a caress, to finally meet hers. She’d never seen an emerald burn until now.
‘What was woven together between us tonight is forever, Clio.’
Her heart was too full. The emotions overflowed and spilled out in salty tears. ‘I am yours and you are mine. Whatever challenges we face, we face as one. Whatever burdens we bear, we carry together. And the joy we create will be ours alone.’
He gripped her hips and rolled them together, so she was on top of him. Clio’s world spun as she felt him begin to grow hard beneath her. ‘What of our pleasure? Can you take me again?’ He raised a wicked brow.
She moved her hips, testing this new position. Her clitoris rubbed in a slow, wet slide over the ridge of his cock. It was heady to control their passion. She liked it. ‘Can you take me again, Thomas Grey?’
Lifting her up, he positioned himself at her entrance and waited. ‘I will take you forever.’
Clio sank down, impaling herself and revelling in the glory. She rocked slowly at first. His eyes locked on her breasts. She watched with him as they swayed with her movements. He covered them both with his large hands, kneading and pinching and increasing the sharp, sweet burn growing inside her. Her hips moved with greater purpose as she changed the angle. Just there. That incandescent spot that made her body sing. She found it again. And again. Grinding her hips in a slow circle, Thomas clenched his jaw, his gaze locked onto hers, his pupils blown wide. His hand slid from her breast to her waist, aiding her. She tilted her hips, nearly pulled completely off, then slammed down hard, crying out his name as sparks cascaded over her body and onto his. He held her tight against him, their worlds exploding together as he chanted her name like a spell. A love spell that would never break.
Two weeks later
Thomas tugged on his cravat. He didn’t remember his valet tying it quite so tight, and yet he could barely breathe. He was quite certain he might swoon in Rowan’s front parlour, which would not do. Hecould hardly faint in the middle of asking Clio’s aunt for permission to marry her niece. He was a Lieutenant General in Her Majesty’s army, after all. The second son to an earl. By all accounts, a formidable gentleman.
A formidable gentleman who was seconds away from casting up his accounts on the Aubusson rug gracing Rowan’s well-appointed front parlour.
‘Sit. You look green around the gills, Lieutenant General Grey.’
He tried for a smile but was fairly certain it came out closer to a grimace. ‘I am quite well, madame. I assure you.’
‘Well enough to ask me for my niece’s hand in marriage, I assume. For I can’t think of any other reason for you to request an audience with me.’ Rowan raised a chestnut brow at him, her grey eyes flashing ominously.
‘Give the lad a moment to breathe, Rowan.’ Lachlan sat next to the intimidating woman. The look she shot him was sharp enough to fell an Alderwood, but Lachlan only winked at her.
‘You are absolutely right. I am here to ask for your permission to marry your niece.’
Rowan leaned forward, and a potted palm in the corner shivered. ‘Do you love her?’
‘Absolutely.’ It was an easy answer.
‘Do you accept her just as she is?’
‘I accept that she is far more than I’ll ever understand. And the only woman I’ll ever want in this life.’
Rowan leaned back and the palm seemed to relax its leaves in a rustling sigh. ‘Excellent answer, Grey. I can see why she is so enamoured.’
He couldn’t stop the flush of heat across his cheek. ‘Before you give me your answer, you must know, I will always provide Clio with a home, my love, my protection?—’
‘I’m quite certain she can protect herself.’ Rowan crossed herarms, tapping a long finger irritably. ‘Didn’t she prove that not two weeks ago at the house party you both attended?’
Thomas inclined his head in acknowledgement. ‘Indeed, she did. Yet, even if she does not need my protection, she shall still have it.’
