“So. Fucking. Tight.” He enunciated each word with a grunt and a deliberate pump, surging into her with mind-numbing intensity.
With her knees dangling above the ground, Caelian screamed his name into the earth.
Her nerves fired with energy, crackling and sizzling, all of it pooling where he continued to thrust. She fumbled to grasp the blades of grass beneath her, to maintain some semblance of composure, but she could barely remember to breathe. Each time he pulled out, she whimpered, each time he shoved back in, she moaned. The sounds coming out of her mouth were incoherent, her mind overwhelmed by the desire channeling through her system. Stars danced in front of her eyes, and when Kjeld lifted her higher, deepening the angle, she wanted to implode.
“There is nothing I enjoy more than watching my cock sink into your pretty cunt.” Increasing his pace, he continued to spear her, the rhythm he set damn near punishing. “Tell me how it feels, Starweaver.”
“It feels…”
The truth was on the tip of her tongue, and she let it flow like starberry wine.
“It feels like I can’t get enough. Like I never want you to stop.” Caelian knew it was impossible, but she could’ve sworn his shaft swelled at her praise. She constricted around him, clamping and squeezing. “And I want more. So much more.”
Caelian never thought she would be the sort of lady to use any kind of dirty talk, but surrounded by the enchantment of the Myrkwild, her wildest fantasies tumbled freely.
“I want you, like this, any time. Any place. And when we get home, wherever home may be, I want you to take me on every surface. Against a wall. In a faerie pool. The gardens. The library. Even…”
She gasped as his pumps turned more erratic, and she knew he was getting close, because she herself was being driven to a dangerous edge.
“Even in public.” A flush flared in her cheeks, spreading through her bosom until her nipples peaked and ached, but she didn’t care. Because these were her wants, her desires, her dreams. And she delighted in the fact that Kjeld would make all of them come true. “Because I want everyone to know I belong to you.”
“Consider it done.”
They collided in a cataclysmic burst of ecstasy. He spasmed, emptying himself inside her as her head snapped back, and shockwaves of pleasure ripped into her. Riding the devastating high, she gazed up at the starlit sky, and a sense of peace settled over her, soothing her soul. For the first time since she could remember, Caelain felt whole.
She felt safe.
She felt loved.
Kjeld buttoned his pants and yanked on his vest. He helped her dress next, pulling up her skirts and tugging her blouse over her head. But he didn’t bother with her corset. Instead he tucked it into his back pocket then fixed her unruly mane of hair. Yet the most intimate thing he did, the simple gesture that sent her heart fluttering all over again, was when he adjusted the flower crown atop her head.
“There.” He kissed her softly on the cheek, and she stifled a yawn. “Come along, sweet wife, it’s time I take you to bed.”
Caelian didn’t protest when he scooped her into his arms, and though she tried to stay awake on the trek back to the Eldergrove, the beating of Kjeld’s heart was a lullaby that rocked her to sleep.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
The next morning, after ensuring the dragon eggs were snug and warm by the hearth, Kjeld and Caelian joined Morwyn, Lira, and Sylvan for breakfast.
An aged round oak table was filled with platters of hash, spiced meat, honeyed rolls, and fresh fruit. Other Druids filtered in and out of the elegant hall, collecting their own plates of food before heading off to another area of the Eldergrove to feast. It was a more simplistic way to share a meal and enjoy the company of those around them. Nothing about it was formal or forced, and Kjeld loaded a plate for himself and one for Caelian, then they followed Morwyn to an outdoor balcony overlooking the Myrkwild.
Morwyn seated herself on one of the cushioned benches, motioning for Caelian to sit beside her. Lira took up the other side, and when Sylan dropped onto one of the overstuffed floor pillows, Kjeld followed suit, sitting near Caelian’s feet.
“We’ll be having a Wildsong Gathering in a few days’ time,” Morwyn announced, taking a sip of juice, her gaze sliding over to Caelian.
“Oh? Well, that sounds lovely.” Caelian plucked a berry into her mouth. “What’s a Wildsong Gathering?”
“It’s a celebration of two souls bound in harmony.” The corner of Morwyn’s mouth lifted slightly, and a summery breeze drifted through the balcony, so the tops of the surrounding trees swayed in answer. “An evening of music and merriment, with plenty of food and laughter. Because apparently there was a secret wedding last night.”
This time, she looked pointedly at Kjeld.
Lira laughed and Sylvan offered his congratulations.
“I knew it! I could tell by the look on your face.” Lira reached across Morwyn to squeeze Caelian’s hand. “You’re glowing with the aftermath of lovemaking.”
Kjeld choked on a piece of meat, his gaze darting to Caelian, whose face was nearly as pink as the berries she was eating.
Sylvan clapped him soundly on the back. “It is the way of things in Wenfyre. We do not shy away from talks of intimacy. Or anything, really. For it’s all part of the natural order.”
