He gazed at me with a wonder so profound it stole the breath from my lungs. The painting on the wall was just a painting again, a beautiful, sunny landscape.
“Skye…” I breathed, the word barely a whisper.
“Mikró astéri,” Skye murmured, his thumb stroking my cheek. “Finally. My heart can beat again.” He leaned in and the world narrowed to the space between us, as he claimed me with his kiss. Our lips met in desperation, a hungry collision of need.
I kissed him with every ounce of love and fear and desperate hope I’d carried for weeks, my hands tangling in the silk of his hair, pulling him closer until I could feel the frantic beat of his heart against mine. This was no dream. This was a new life, and it began here, in this kiss.
“You’re here,” I said, holding him tight, needing him to be real. Tears stung my eyes. “You didn’t leave.”
“Why would I? We are mates.” Skye leaned in and breathed deeply, as if sucking in the scent of my skin, “I knew the momentyou first fell from the heavens into the roiling sea of my curse. My soul recognized its other half. Though I dared not dream to keep you and condemn you to my fate.”
His words shattered the last of my restraint. A laugh that was partly a sob escaped me as I crushed our mouths together again in a kiss that was all teeth and desperate, gasping breaths. I could taste the salt of the ocean on his lips. My hands fisted in his hair, not to guide him, but to anchor myself to this reality, to him, terrified he might somehow dissolve back into paint and magic.
He met my desperation with his own. One of his hands cupped the nape of my neck, holding me in place, while the other splayed across the small of my back, pressing our bodies together until not even a whisper could pass between us. Every point of contact was electric, a live wire sparking back to life after a long, cold darkness.
We broke apart for a shuddering gasp of air, foreheads pressed together, our breaths mingling. In one fluid motion, he flipped me, settling me to straddle his hips, my knees framing his waist. I stared down at him, at the breathtaking contrast of his pale skin and ombre hair against my sheets, his gaze focused on me with an ethereal hunger I longed to satisfy.
“Off,” he requested, his voice a husky command as his fingers hooked into the waistband of my pajamas.
I didn’t need to be told twice. I shimmied out of the soft fabric, tossing it aside, leaving me bare and exposed above him. His gaze raked over me, hot and possessive, and a shudder of pure anticipation ran through me. The feel of him, hard and eager against my thigh, stole the air from my lungs. I reached between us, wrapping my hand around his length, giving him a gentle squeeze and long stroke, drawing a vibrating purr from his throat. The sound went straight to my core.
Skye ran his hands over my body with a new, focused intent, part caress and part desperation, as though he were trying to map out every inch of my skin. One palm slid up my thigh, over my hip, his thumb brushing a teasing line along the sensitive skin there. The other hand weaving through my hair, pulling me down into another deep, breathless kiss.
When he broke the kiss, his lips trailed down my jaw, my throat, nipping and soothing a path to my collarbone. “I have dreamed of this,” he murmured against my skin, the words a hot caress.
I leaned down and traced the elegant line of his collarbone with my tongue. He hummed sweet groans as I found one of his nipples, and laved it with my tongue. I drew the tight peak into my mouth, sucking gently. Skye gasped, his back arching off the bed, a low groan rumbling in his chest.
“Luca,mikró astéri,” he purred, his voice strained with pleasure. He slid a hand between us, taking both of our cocks in his elegant fingers. A few seconds later a warm, slick sensation of wetness spilled around where his fingers touched us, and he stroked us together, drawing a gasp from my lips.
“Magical lube?” I asked, clutching the bed beside him to keep from coming unraveled instantly by the friction.
“There are some benefits to magic,” Skye whispered against my lips before capturing them in a deep, claiming kiss. His strokes created a delicious, slippery friction that was almost too much to bear. The sound was obscenely perfect, a wet glide that filled the quiet room, each stroke punctuated by our ragged breaths and the low, approving groan that vibrated in his chest.
I could feel every inch of him, smooth and hard, sliding against me.
“Skye…” I moaned, the word breaking into a gasp as his thumb swiped over the head of my cock, spreading the pearly bead of moisture that had gathered there.
“I love the sounds you make for me,” he murmured, his voice a dark, husky thing that went straight to my core. He increased his pace slightly, and the wet, rhythmic sound grew faster, a lewd and beautiful symphony of our joining. “I have dreamed of this. Of hearing you come apart.”
I moaned against his skin, my own movements becoming more frantic. “Skye, if you don’t stop, I’m going to come. Please, I want you to claim me.”
A low growl of approval rumbled in his chest. His hands settled firmly on my hips, holding me steady in his lap. “Then claim me as I claim you,” he murmured, his voice dark with promise, his gaze locked on mine. “I wish to feel every part of you,” he whispered, his voice thick with a desire that mirrored my own.
Magical slick coated his fingers as he found my entrance, circling slowly, teasing the puckered rim, until I whimpered. Then one finger pressed inside.
“Please,” I gasped, pressing back to meet his fingers and begging for more.
He pushed deeper—a slow, burning stretch that stole my breath. He held still, letting me adjust, watching my face with dark, intent eyes. “So hot and snug,” Skye growled. When a second finger joined, the stretch burned brighter, fuller. Then he crooked them just right—rubbing that spot that shattered thought—and a broken moan ripped from my throat.
“Now, Luca,” he breathed, his voice ragged as he withdrew his fingers, his hands finding my hips, his grip firm and guiding. “I need to be inside you. Now.”
I needed it too. With a steadying breath, I rose onto my knees, positioning myself above him. I met his intense gaze as I guided him to my entrance. The first press was an exquisite, burning stretch that made us both gasp. I sank down slowly, allowing my body to accommodate every inch of him until I wasfully seated, he was buried deep inside me, and we were joined as completely as two beings could be.
For a moment, we were both perfectly still, suspended in the overwhelming sensation of it. The feeling of being filled and claimed, was almost too much to bear. My heart sang as if I’d finally found my place in the arms of my mate.
Then I began to move.
He let me set the pace, his hands resting on my hips, steadying me but giving me full control. I began a rolling rhythm, rising and falling, setting a pace that was both tender and demanding, before leaning down to capture his mouth in a deep, claiming kiss, swallowing his groan as my own. Our bodies moved together in a rhythm as ancient as the tides, a perfect, wordless language of our own. The world outside, the snow, the city, the silent painting on the wall, ceased to exist. There was only Skye.
