Page 31 of Chivalry is Not Dead

“Somewhere many generations back, you are related to one Victoria Graves,” he continues. “It was not incredibly common to have what you would refer to as a doctor or a nurse on the battlefield, but that day she was there with us offering help to the wounded. I had completely forgotten about her as the decades passed—I was in such a haze in my final days, there is not much that I did remember.”

“Victoria… that is a family name. We haven’t used it in a few generations, though.”

He looks at me, tucking a piece of wild hair behind my ear. “Well, this Victoria looked a lot like you, from a distance at least. When I first came upon her, I could not see her face, and I had a fleeting thought that you had somehow followed me. When she turned around it was obviously not you, but… she is the one who cursed me all of those years ago.”

“What?” I ask, incredulously. “Why would she do such a thing? Is that why our magic has been diluted? She used it in a way she wasn’t supposed to?”

“We did not get that far.” He chuckles. “And I am not upset that she cursed me. Not anymore. Not now that I have found you.”

I shake my head. “But why? Why did she curse you to begin with?”

His lips are whisper-soft over mine ever so briefly. “Because she knew. She saw that I was bonded but could see that it was too faint to be connected to anyone at that time. She cursed me so I could spend the rest of my life looking for you.”

A tear slips down my cheek, his caress wiping it away. “And you found me.”

“I found you. And I love you. And I would spend millennia continuing to search if I had to.”

“Well, you don’t have to,” I say, tugging him closer to me. “Because fortunately for you, I am here and I’m not going anywhere.”

“Lucky me.” He grins.

And both of us, in fact, get very lucky.

EPILOGUE

Christmas Day

“Another celebration?” Sanders asks, still buried beneath the covers of the bed we’ve occupied for the last several days in a row.

“Yes, and dear gods, I should probably wash the sheets,” I say, standing in the bedroom doorway.

He pulls his arms down, revealing his glorious chest—and that face. His face is glorious too. Scruffy in a way that sends a zing straight to my lower belly. And those eyes… I sit down on the bed, unable to peel my own off of him. “Why do we need to wash the sheets?” he asks.

“They are unsanitary,” I reply, which is a really sexy thing to say to someone who is lying completely naked in your bed. “It’s kind of like the bath thing.”

When Sanders first arrived he was alarmed by the number of times I was able to take a bath in one week. How do you keep the water hot? Do you have to fetch it from somewhere? Will it run out?

“Ah,” he replies. “I do love a modern-day shower. Especially when you join me.” He leans over, gently nipping at my bare thigh, his hair flopping adorably across his forehead.

“I—oh!” I’m interrupted by another, not as gentle, nip. “I could be persuaded into a shower, but we have to be quick. Mom and Grandmother are expecting us for brunch.”

Another word I had to explain. Breakfast and lunch—the best meal in the world.

“I am very excited to taste the brunch,” he concedes. “Only if I can taste you first.”

His grin is wicked as he scoops me up and carries me to the shower. It’s not large by any means, but it does have a really nifty ledge at the back that holds a frosted window. I’ve always thought it was an annoying waste of space. Until Sanders first propped me up there and we realized it was the perfect height for certain activities.

Which is exactly what he does now. The man is insatiable and, okay fine, maybe I am too. He places me on the ledge, falling to his knees before me. Sanders looks up at me in a way I can only describe as worshipful. The splash of the shower hits his back and my legs, which are draped over his shoulders. His hair turns a bit darker from the water, and it reminds me of when he gets all sweaty from his sword practices.

I suppose this is a different kind of sword practice.

“I love you,” he tells me before devouring my pussy. And we love a man that can be both emotionally available and make you see stars when you come. Feels like a once in a lifetime kind of love, and I suppose it is.

His magical tongue doesn’t take very long to work me higher and higher and higher into orgasmic bliss. And now it’s my turn. When I’m done shaking and get the feeling back into my legs, I motion for him to trade places with me.

It’s not as natural of a position, but he reaches over my head and directs the shower spray so it’s not drowning me, and I take that moment to suck his perfect cock into my mouth.

“Christ, princess,” he growls, hand diving into my hair.