He lifted me in his arms and I wrapped my legs around his waist. And then he followed through on his promise.
Chapter
Thirty-Seven
“Light to banish darkness.” Not “repair what was broken.” Could that be the key?
—From the journal of Violet Andrever
Iwoke to his arm around my waist, my back against his chest. His mouth was on me, stringing kisses along my shoulder and upper back, anywhere he could reach.
“This is a nicer way to wake up,” I sighed.
“Than?”
“Than just in your arms, trying to disentangle myself from you without letting you know I wanted you. Or waking to an empty bed.”
“It was torture,” he murmured between kisses, his hand coming over to gently palm my breast.
I arched into his touch. “What was?”
“Holding you every damn night, unable to touch you. Took me forever to fall asleep. And then the mornings were no better. I always woke up hard and aching to fuck you.”
I could feel him pressing into my back. I stroked his length, running my thumb along his silky head. “And what exactly did you want to do about it?”
His hand coasted down my stomach to the juncture of my thighs,finding me wet and ready for him. “This.” He slid into me, inch by delicious inch.
I looked back over my shoulder, and his mouth met mine as he moved gently inside me. This was different than the other times we had joined. This wasn’t the furious, grabbing possession of the first time, all desperate hands and clashing teeth. Or the exploration of the second, curious touches mapping uncharted territory. This was tender, loving, like coming home after a lifetime of wandering. This was it—the closeness I had been craving my entire life.
Light spilled out like warm sunshine through my veins from that golden well where the mating bond tethering us resided. It pooled beneath my skin, bathing me in a saffron radiance. An answering light bloomed from deep within him, twining with mine, until I couldn’t tell where my glow ended and his began. The light danced across our joined bodies like sunlight through stained glass, chasing away every shadow and turning this into something sacred, as he cradled me closer.
“You feel amazing,”he whispered down the bond.“I’ll never get enough of you. Can you feel this? I’ve never imagined this closeness.”
“I feel it. I feel you.”I gasped as he hit a particularly sensitive spot.“Again,”I begged.
And so he did it again. And again. I clenched around him and felt the wave start to build. Its crescendo was gentle, but no less strong than the previous ones, fueled by the emotion I saw in his eyes. He paused his thrusting as the wave crashed over me. He held my gaze, his eyes shining in the golden light. I reached a hand up to cup his cheek, ranking my fingers through his hair. He groaned, never breaking our eye contact. With one final thrust, I felt him spill inside me.
He slumped over me, pressing kisses anywhere he could reach.
So apparently we glowed now. That was different.
I’m not sure how long we lay there, entwined, his calloused fingers threading through my hair while my head rose and fell with each breath against his chest. The steady thrum of his heartbeatechoed through my ribs as my own heart matched his rhythm. I had the strangest urge to look at him and drink in the sight of him, to ensure that this wasn’t some fever dream born of longing. That I was truly here, skin to skin with Griff. My mate. My other half.
What I saw took my breath away. His head laid back against the edge of the headboard, sandy hair mussed, several days of scruff shadowing the strong line of his jaw. His eyes were closed, lashes fanned against his cheekbones, the mask completely gone. He looked younger somehow, peaceful in a way that made my chest tighten with tenderness.
I traced my fingers through his silky waves, marveling at how such a fierce warrior could look so vulnerable and at ease.
He caught my wandering hand to press a playful nip to my fingers. “What are you thinking?” His voice was rough with contentment, eyes still closed.
“That I’ve only seen you this peaceful once before. On your island.”
His eyes opened, those hazel depths as soft as morning mist. He caught a strand of my hair, lifting it away from where it clung to my flushed cheek. “I used to think the sunrise over the water was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.” He surged forward to capture my lips. “That was until you. Standing there in your grandmother’s doorway, afternoon light shining behind you. Even covered in mud and looking furious, you took my breath away.”
We took our time,but finally, we both knew we had to head back. As I closed the cottage door behind me, the soft click of the latch felt final. I had an overwhelming premonition that the next time I crossed this threshold, everything would have changed. The certainty of it welled up inside me so strong that a tear escaped before I could stop it.
Griff caught it. “Want to talk about it?”
Wordlessly, I shook my head.
