It only took a couple of strokes of my cock to change the tightness of discomfort to one of pleasure again, even the shockingly rough vice-grip of her ass loosened as she acclimated to the new sensations.
“How does it feel?” I asked with a grunt as we began to rock together again.
“Odd, very full,” Daphne managed around a gasp, her insides twisting and warming up. She was close enough that I could probably brush a finger past her clit and make her come.
But I wasn’t ready yet and I’d found that one thing I liked more than making Daphne come on her own was being able to coming with her.
“Just hang on for a bit,” I said through gritted teeth as I picked up the pace. Every single ridge on my cock tingled with pleasure as she tightened with each and every stroke until I was half-convinced she was trying to snap me in half.
The symphony of our song, which had quieted some over the past couple hours, began in earnest again as proof of our complete bond.
As the music quickened, swelling with emotion, I felt my hips stutter as every muscle in my body seemed to tighten up.
One of my hands slipped around to Daphne’s clit, giving it a gentle pinch. With a shout, muffled by her hands, Daphne tumbled over the edge, pulling me with her as I spilled deep inside of her.
My knees felt like rubber and Daphne’s must have too because as soon as her limbs began to untense as she came down from the high of her orgasm, she nearly crumpled to the floor.
“I’ve got you,” I said, scooping her up into my arms and carrying her into the living room.
Once she was settled on the couch I sat next to her, my fingers smoothing through her pink hair as we lapsed into a comfortable silence. Then I felt her hand reach up and touch the tattoo across my shoulders, above where my scars were.
“Wingless,” she murmured, her fingers tracing the letters. “Isn’t having that tattooed above where your wings used to be an awful reminder of everything?”
“No, not for me,” I said with a shake of my head as I grabbed her hand and gently guided it to the mound of scar tissue where one of my wings used to be. “It’s a reminder of surviving. Most gargoyles who become Wingless go crazy or go into a stone sleep forever. I refused to do that.”
There were many times over the past two hundred and fifty years that I wanted to give up. Especially before the Accords had been written, allowing the supernatural to step into regular society as equal citizens.
But something kept spurring me on through the years, keeping the madness of being alone at bay.
I always thought it was finding my people. Dallan, Effie, and the rest of the artists at Monstrous Ink had become my family in many ways, so I figured that the secret to keeping Wingless from going crazy was having people around.
Then again, I’d known and supported Ronan for a long time. Though he wasn’t completely mad, my presence in his life didn’t alleviate the symptoms at all, no matter what I tried.
“Why do you think you didn’t go mad?” Daphne asked around a big yawn.
“I think I was waiting for you,” I told her honestly as I gathered her into my arms again. Reclining back into the couch, I tucked the blanket up around us and relished the feeling of her head on my chest.
Exhaustion was also settling in for me again, a feeling that was completely new to me. In my nearly three hundred years of life, I’d never felt as drowsy as I had since the equinox started. I wondered if it was because my mate was a human, I’d changed the way her body worked, so it stood to reason that she’d changed me in some ways too.
“Me?” Daphne mumbled, her eyes drooping shut and then she was asleep before I could even reply.
I pressed a kiss to the mess of pink curls on top of her head. I’d have to explain to her later that finding her had been a one in a million chance.
The way Daphne made me feel was almost the exact same way I felt when I used to be able to fly. Like everything in the world was light and airy.
“I love you, dragonfly,” I whispered to the quiet room. I’d repeat it again when she woke up, but for now I finally surrendered to the drowsiness and fell asleep with her tucked safely in my arms.
Twenty-Three
“Congratulations!” The table cheered as they clinked glasses of beer together.
After four blissful days, Cash and I had finally reemerged from our self-imposed isolation and returned to work.
Between the innuendos and rapid-fire questions from Effie, my first day back passed in a flash, ending with our celebration at the Dive.
Wendy and her husband had flown in while Cash and I were, ah, busy, and she was busily chatting with Effie about whatever they had done last night while they waited for us to come out of hiding.
Apparently, it had included getting ridiculously drunk and wandering around on the beach until both Dallan and Reggie were forced to come and find them.
