Page 30 of An Arrow to the Heart

Just a little higher, she was begging with need, as her hips jolted beneath him trying to steer him to the sensitive bundle of nerves screaming for his touch. But instead of giving her what she wanted he let his mouth hover over it, just a whisper away from it, letting the hot breath of his pants drown her. Her head fell back at the sensation, eyes closed as she whimpered.

Suddenly the heat was gone again, and like before he had left her trembling.

“Eyes on me,” he growled, and she brought her gaze to meet him only to realise he was now holding his dick, just inches away from her entrance, stroking himself lazily as he groaned. She’d never been so turned on, the sound of his voice only spurring her on, Gods, the things she’d let this man do.

With a firm grip on his cock he nudged it closer against her skin and she whimpered as she felt him coating his tip in her wetness, spreading it about and then he rested the length of him atop her pussy, so close to where she ached for fulfilment. This was torture, the most delicious devious kind of torture.

Just put it in already her body begged.

“Please,” she begged again, her voice a raspy echo of what it normally was but she could barely catch her breath as her body throbbed at the mere thought of his touch, never mind talk.

She needed him.

He let out a low, almost animalistic chuckle as he bit his lip before lowering his head once more and this time his mouth latched on to her swollen clit with a wild possession as though he had a hunger that could only be sated by the sound of her pleasure. He licked and he sucked like a starved man devouring his favourite meal.

“Yes,” she pleaded, “yes….”

“More,” she cried out and he brought a hand to her breast, palming it roughly before he teased her rock hard nipple, pulling at it slightly. With his other hand he slipped two fingers back inside her welcoming warmth and she groaned as he began to move them in a wild rhythm. Her breath came in tiny breaths as the tip of his tongue circled her clit before he brought the pressure of a thousand suns over it, pushing hard on it and she felt herself boiling over the edge when he returned to sucking it.

Flush crept up her cheeks as her orgasm tore through her and she let out a moan as she rode the waves of the peaks and ebbs, moving her hips rhythmically against his face. He moaned heavy breaths into her as he kept going, keeping her there, rolling her right into another climax. Pleasure overcame her and her eyes rolled to the back of her head as she came again and again, each thundering wave rippling through her, leaving her body trembling.

Her heart stumbled before finding its rhythm again, the aftershocks sending tingles all over her sensitive body as she collapsed on the bed, breathing hard.

Ardál collapsed on the bed beside her, a satisfied grin on his face, as he said, “you’re fucking delicious Sylvie.”

After she’d managed to compose herself and had her breathing return to somewhat normal levels she decided she really needed to get out of this bed because otherwise she might give up on the rest of the world entirely and never leave.

“I’m already running way behind, and as much as I enjoy looking at that face of yours,” she said, poking his nose, “you will only get in the way.” He had been looking at her with those puppy dog eyes begging her to stay and she already knew what he’d say.

“At least let me come with you, I can help, my knee is fine with movement now as I think I've just demonstrated.”

“You certainly have,” she said looking at him lustfully, absentmindedly licking her lips, “but I do actually have work to get done and I’ll be much quicker without you,” Gods help her, but she knew she wouldn’t be able to concentrate with him nearby, much less resist him.

“You could feed the geese and milk the goats if you need something to do,” she added jokingly.

But to her surprise he said, “yeah, sure, I’ll milk the goats but I’m not going anywhere near that fucking goose.” She couldn't help but giggle as she remembered his altercation with the goose a few weeks ago.

He joined in her laughter.

“I shouldn’t be too long. If you get bored I have a new stack of books to look through. I got them the morning of the festival and haven’t had a chance to go through them yet. They’re in a sack in the herb room.”

He nodded at that, then lent in to give her a long drawn out kiss. “I’ll be here when you get back,” and he grinned as he continued, “although I can’t promise I’ll be wearing anything.”

Sylvie rolled her eyes at that as she left with a smile on her face, secretly hoping that he would indeed be without his clothes on her return.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

-Ardál-

He was in love.

He was certain of it. Ardál had never felt this way about anyone and he’d never experienced such blissful happiness. He had never told anyone about his family, the fact that he felt safe enough with her to have told her spoke volumes. He could kiss the Gods above who destined him to be shot with that arrow, for it led him to her.

He decided that day as he carried out the chores around the cottage that he wouldn’t leave. Even after his knee had healed, even after the frost of winter melted into spring, He’d stay here, right here in this pink cottage if she allowed it. He’d fight for her and he’d earn his place at her side. Whatever she needed from him. He would give. Happily.

“Right, just this last chore then we’ll get some snacks, I promise,” he said to Phelan with the midday sun now above them, as he carried the canister of milk into the cottage’s root cellar store.

He was about a third into one of the new books Sylvie had acquired, Brews and Banes: A Spellbound Sorceress's Secrets as Phelan lazily chewed on a bone at his feet. The contents of the books were a tad more dark than he had anticipated. While it made for interesting reading, he worried what Sylvie had gotten herself into if she was searching these types of tomes for answers.