His fingers are still in my hair when he kisses me again, slower than before. It’s a very tender kiss in comparison to the wild way he has taken me for the past stretch of time. Has it been hours? It seems as if it must have taken at least that long, though it also seems like no time at all.
I sink into the kiss, my heart aching from the question I have asked.
What if I said I did not want you to go?
What if? What if? What would happen if I meant it with all my heart? What would happen if he agreed to stay here instead of returning to his post as a soldier? In his kiss, I feel a world of possibilities open before me. It is like finding new moons in the sky that I have looked at for all these years. Like maybe it’s possible.
It came upon me so fast—the thought that I might want him here with me. It’s something I never thought I would admit to anyone in the world. There was never any reason to think I would have anyone again, because the risk to my heart is too great. I have lost so much. I know how reckless it is to give up my heart once again.
Yet I cannot help it. There is an undeniable pull to him.
If Ryker were to leave and I were to remain silent—if he left without knowing how much I wanted him—then I know I would regret my silence for the rest of my life.
I had to ask. And I am done regretting. I’ve spent years regretting that I did not perish with my coven and trying to cover that regret of staying back to aid a fallen soldier with the thought that I loved solitude.
In some ways, yes, I did love being alone. Having time to heal and mourn and allow my powers to be felt by all who needed it. The peace I found in my fields and with my gardens was real. It simply wasn’t…complete.
Ryker groans softly against my lips, and another wave of hope comes over me. It’s matched with a wave of desire that should be impossible, given how much we have already had each other.
But then—I’ve heard that mates who are fated to be together have periods of time like this, when they can crave each other for hours. Days, even. Getting lost in the depths of pleasure and desire with one another.
I feel as if I have craved Ryker all my life.
And perhaps that is why I have survived. Perhaps that is why I have lived. It’s such a simple thing, to have a craving satisfied. To taste something so sweet.
I’m not satisfied quite yet.
As my fingers curl and I fist the sheets beside us, I know I need more of Ryker.
He pushes me down onto the pillows, covering me with just as much hunger as he had before, his cock hard and the rest of his muscles bunching with his need.
Could I even watch him leave, after having experienced this feeling?
I’ve spent so much time asking the moon for answers. Begging her to reassure me in the only purpose I had left without my coven. Begging her to satisfy me with the peace of the valley and the good I did for the villagers who write to me for spells.
If I were to follow him…the thought slips into the back of my mind. To finish what my coven started.
It would be a loss to my land. The villagers would lose the magic of the spells. There would be a void left in my place. My mind whirls to fields that never have felt my footsteps or my magic.
In the dream I woke from, I knew that land. I knew it so well, though the fields were not the ones I have dwelled in. My heart races with possibility.
If that was a vision, or a prophecy…
Then those new lands would know my coven through me. I would carry their memory into my new life. Their magic, their power, our ways which would be lost had I not carried on.
I would have a new life. A new beginning of adventure. Although the very idea brings an anxiousness to me that’s dangerous.
I cannot think much more about following that path, because Ryker kisses me even deeper, his hand coming up to brace my jaw as his cock presses into me and desire burns hotter between us. From the corner of my eye, I notice more candles illuminate around us, guided by my magic to give me just enough light to look into his eyes. He pulls back, kisses me again, then watches my face with deep intent as his hands roam my body, rediscovering places he has touched before and worshipping them just the same.
My nipples harden, my eyes go half lidded and I nearly fall victim to another climax simply watching his eyes heat as he toys with me.
He gradually slips his fingers across my needy pussy and searches out my clit, then watches from only inches away as he coaxes another orgasm from me. They take less time to arrive now, but they also take longer to melt away. Each one building on the last. My back arches as I cry out his name, my nails scratching down his back gently. My pleasure only fuels him. Ryker seems fascinated by this. He draws out a second, then a third, and I put my hand on his wrist, gasping.
I will light this cottage on fire if I come again. I am sure of it.
“A moment,” I whisper, my eyes closed as heat travels up my chest and neck all the way up my face to my temple. My body rages with both heat and pleasure. “Only a moment.”
Ryker presses his lips against my neck, his breath sending more warmth through my body making my toes curl. I’d thought I had reached an impossible peak—one I might not be able to come down from—but the intensity of the pleasure ebbs until I can bear it again.
