She bites me.
Pulling back in mock outrage, I hiss and lick the pain away.
She watches hungrily.
“Are you the kind of man to leave his wife waiting?” She grits out, frustrated.
I smile and then place my hand back on her midsection. Beneath it, I feel the first flicker of a heartbeat. It’s as if a switch is flipped under my skin, unlocking some primal part of me I had never seen.
This woman holds our child.
I have sacrificed much for us to be together, and so had she, but this ultimate sign of commitment lights something tender and primal. My sense flies away to some unknown place as I use one knee to push open one of her legs, taking time to enjoy the glistening readiness that is awaiting me for a second before pushing myself forward, lining up our bodies, and sinking in.
Estela moans and grips my sustaining hand with the tips of her fingers.
She presses her feet into the bed, meeting the angle of my hips stroke for stroke, connecting our bodies and hearts with each moment.
When I claim her lips seconds before we come, I pull her on top of me. She looks tired, but she gives me a frustrated look. With her hands now free, they slide over my biceps as her braid curls around her shoulder and breast.
”Why did you stop?” she asks irritatedly.
I smile. “Because I am not in a hurry.”
She moves her hips to show her displeasure, and I reach up to grab her braid, twisting it around my hand. She stills as I holdtight. Then she begins to move once more, and I can feel the way that she pleasurably aches at the new angle. The gem in her chest glows brightly, and a flicker of fear passes.
”Don’t stop,” I coax her on. As the magic between us builds, it is a symphony. We harmonize every melody, and I curve my hips upwards the second she gets closer.
Her back arches, and she cries out seconds before I find my release tumbling after hers.
”I love you,” I whisper as she collapses atop me. Her skin is flushed and soft.
“Te amo?1,” she returns.
Grabbing her mouth once more, I press another passionate kiss to her lips.
And then we fall into each other, resting and waiting for the next moment to come. I won’t admit it aloud, but it brings me great pleasure when she doesn't move to put on her clothes once again.
I would have her skin on mine every day until the end if allowed.
“Teo, what did you give up to save us?” Her hand is on her stomach, and I stroke her shoulder.
“Not much. Honestly, I got the better end of the deal,” I say.
She looks up at me. “I don’t believe that.”
I brush a kiss to her forehead. “Believe it.”
When she continues to stare at me, I sigh. “I gave back the ability to control the volcano.”
She freezes, and her heart rate picks up in a way that has nothing to do with passion.
“Why did you do that? We are defenseless without it.” Her words are fast and tumble past her lips.
I shake my head. “I still have magic. I still feel the earth rumble beneath me, as you can, too, now that we are so connected. Besides, even if I had none of that… I have you. You are the Daughter of the Light Weavers.Drathorinna’s rider. The next wise woman. We have more than enough.”
She looks up at me, wide eyed. “I… I am glad I have you.”
I press another kiss to her lips, feeling as she eases back into our bond. There is a beauty in a partner that I never knew before her. Alone, we each had our own plans and schemes, but together we are greater than the sum of our parts.
