Was that really what she wanted?
She felt something, something big and fierce in the center of her chest, and when she looked at him it was nearly painful.
When she touched him, it felt like coming home. In a way that home had never been.
She didn’t have words. Not to speak, not even to form inside of herself to try to create an understanding. So she leaned over andshe kissed him, letting the blankets fall away, so that her bare skin could press up against his.
He wrapped his arm around her waist, brought her over the top of him, cupping her face as he kissed her with all of the pent-up desire inside of him.
She sat up, and looked down at him, her hair enveloping them both in a dark, tangled curtain.
She felt alive. She felt free. She felt like she belonged to him, and it was nothing like being owned. Because she felt as if he belonged to her too. As if she was the only person who might totally understand. Even if she didn’t today, maybe someday she would. She wanted to.
She wanted to change around him. Wanted to re-form herself in his arms.
She couldn’t make him want the same.
But she felt…
She bent down and kissed him, and he growled, gripping her hips and moving her down so that her wet heat came into contact with the blunt head of his arousal. She gasped. And then she arched her hips backward, taking him in deep from her position on top of him. She moaned as he filled her, slowly, completely. And then she began to writhe above him. A claiming of her own.
Mine.
Mine.
Mine.
Yes.
She gripped his shoulders, letting her head fall back as she established a rhythm that drove them both mad.
She carried them both to the brink.
This man. He was something. He was everything.
She moaned, shuddering as her orgasm claimed her unexpectedly. And then he growled, reversing their positions sothat he was on top of her, driving into her. His powerful hold was like chains, but she never wanted to break free of them.
It was the beauty of him. The paradox of him.
A conqueror, who never made her feel conquered.
Who only made her feel stronger. More herself. More alive.
She had never seen it coming. She had never seen it as a possibility.
Would she give up everything for him?
No. She wouldn’t. Because staying with him would mean giving up nothing.
He would be a partner. A lover. Her husband.
My husband is with me.
She thought of Freya, that goddess up in her heavenly plane, forever mourning the husband who was lost to her.
Fern had a husband. And he was not lost to her.
She needed to keep him. She needed to hold onto him.
