Page 45 of The Withering Wood

“That’s it,” he groaned, one hand dipping down to rub her clit while he thrust in and out.

Bright bliss built between her legs, tightening her inner muscles around his cock. He groaned, moving harder and faster, heartbeats and breaths quickening.

“Oh, fuck, Oberon,” she moaned as intense, blinding pleasure cascaded over her waves. He groaned and claimed her mouth, sweeping his tongue against hers as his orgasm shuddered through him at the same time, dick pulsing within her tightened core.

He moved slower, teasing out the remnants of their desire. A pleasant hum reverberated in her body as he remained in her, kissing her softly while his hands gently roamed her body. Her hands tangled in his hair, and when they broke apart to finally catch their breath, she could do nothing but admire him. The gleam of his golden hair in the dim moonlight, steam rising between their bodies. The broad, powerful shape of him. The adoration in his expression as he stared back at her.

He swept her cherry red hair away from her face, tucked it behind her ear. He kissed her, slow and gentle, then rested his forehead on hers. “You’re beautiful, Cerise, in more ways than I can describe. I’d punish those that made you believe otherwise, if I could.”

“And if they were alive, I’d crush the still beating hearts of your parents in my fists for making you feel worthless.”

He chuckled and wrapped his arms around her, Cerise’s head resting against his chest. Fingers brushing over her back he said, “Come, let’s get dry. We should try to rest while we can.”

Oberon stepped out first, extending a bracing hand for Cerise. She hesitated, wanting to keep her skin blurred below water. Yet he was right. They needed to sleep until day broke and they had to begin their trek back.

She’d fought legions of undead. Slaughtered a necromancer trying to resurrect a dead God. She could show her naked body.

Cerise took his comforting palm in hers and accepted his aid out of the pool, cool air sweeping chills along her exposed flesh. He draped a ratty towel over her shoulders, squeezing moisture from her hair and swiping it away from her skin. In the hazy moonlight filtered through steam, she regarded his body, him doing the same as he dried her. No flickers of disgust or pity claimed his features, instead he placed reverent kisses along her scars as he moved down her body, drying her legs. The clenched unease in her chest steadily unraveled and by the time he was done she wondered what it’d be like to sleep beside him naked, to have his touch on her bare skin while drifting in and out of consciousness.

Yet, even with the pools warming the room, a wintry, nighttime cold clung to the air. So they put back on a few layers of the old, dirty clothes. With a bundle of decayed blankets beneath and above them, Oberon pulled Cerise close, his chest to her back. And even though it was only a person and not a wall behind her, she slept soundly and without nightmares, for the first time in years.

Chapter Fifteen

A pale lilac dawn woke Cerise. She shifted onto her back, Oberon’s chest rising and falling with sleep next to her. Through the open ceiling, snow fluttered across the sky in lazy drifts, evaporated by the hot springs’ steam before falling into the lodge. As if the earth itself fought against this never-ending winter.

Wrenching hunger clenched her stomach and she groaned at the discomfort. They needed to get back to their supplies. Hopefully, they were still there and not destroyed by the elements or stolen by starving wildlife.

“Oberon,” she whispered, nudging the slumbering prince. His body shifted but didn’t wake. She pushed him harder, saying, “Oberon!”

He startled, eyes blinking rapidly. “What? What is it? What’s wrong?”

“We need to go.”

As Cerise flipped aside the blankets and sat up, his hand laced around her arm. “Wait.”

She paused, looking back at him over her shoulder. Tiredness clung to his eyes, golden-brown hair fanning around his head. A bulge grew in his groin, sending a thrill through her veins.

“Come here.”

Despite the pleasure from last night still lingering below her skin, her body aching to be touched again, they needed to begin the journey back. She needed Eirwen to know she was alive. That they’d all survive a while longer. “We don’t have time for that.”

“I know. Just kiss me.”

She lowered herself over him, chests touching, his strong hands winding up her back, holding her tight. She parted his lips with her own, tongues tasting each other in steady, slow strokes. His arousal pressed against her, and though she desperately wanted to throw her legs around him, to take him inside her and watch his expression shudder with pleasure as she rode him, there were more important matters to address.

Nipping his lip as she pulled away, he groaned, fingers tightening on her waist.

“Please tell me that’s a promise of things to come,” he said, voice low and gravelly. Satisfaction rolled through her at the desire, the need, for her in his tone.

Cerise peeled away from him and a small grin tugged at the corner of her lips. “Perhaps.”

He chuckled and stretched before standing, the two of them silently dressing. Not long after, they were on the hike back to the temple. Peaceful snow still drifted down, in small yet fluffy flakes. Cerise used the old spear as a staff, but it couldn’t compare to Beloved’s sturdiness, and it failed to support her well. The shaft creaked and bent below her weight, and though she knew it wouldn’t survive multiple days of this treatment, at this moment, it was better than nothing.

No traces of the spirits remained. No obscured footprints or glimmers of hazy green. Again, she wondered where they went during the day. If they still surrounded her and Oberon, despite being unable to see them. Or if they dissipated to a restful place, only to be summoned forth as spirits every night.

Both of their stomachs complained, loud protests grumbling from their bellies by the time they made it back to the ruins. Their tent still stood, covered in a thin layer of snow. Cerise darted inside and exhaled a sigh of relief, finding their packs undamaged. Frozen, but still there. She punched the ice and it splintered like cracking glass, forcing her way through the stiff fabric to the even harder bits of food within. Cerise and Oberon shoved the frigid preserve jars and stone-like slabs of jerky beneath their clothes, letting their body heat thaw the food. Once they’d eaten enough to calm their raging bellies and enliven their dwindling energy, they packed camp and readied to head back.

Before leaving, they climbed to the upper precipice once more, where they’d first seen Azkanix’s rib. No more necrotic green spread through the grassy plains. No raging, magic thunderstorm boomed through the air. Only a massive, black void remained in the plains, the Lich God’s bone swallowed by the earth.