Page 109
“Aye.” She stopped in front of him, looking down, and something in her smile changed. Turned softer. Almost shy. “And when their new sibling joins them, ye willnae have a chance at all.”
Evander went very still.
He looked up at her. At her face, flushed and hopeful. At the hand that had drifted, without her seeming to notice, to her belly.
“Freya…” His voice didn’t sound like his own.
She nodded, biting her lip. “Midsummer, Moira thinks.”
The two had discussed having a child of their own. There was certainly no lack of trying, but after so many years, it simply hadn’t happened yet.
Evander had once claimed to be marrying only for an heir, but he was no longer that man. As long as Freya was alive and happy, that was all he cared for. Besides, the twins were enough work.
But another child born of him and Freya was a blessing. A blessing he had never thought he’d have.
He didn’t know the last time he had felt so happy.
He was on his feet before he knew it. He caught her face in both hands and kissed her, hard and deep and desperate, and she laughed against his mouth and clung to him.
He lifted her onto the edge of the desk, sweeping the remaining ledgers to the floor without a glance.
“Ye’ve made me the happiest man on earth,” he murmured against her throat.
“And ye’ve made me happy as well,” she breathed.
He looked up into her eyes. “It’s only fair that I return the favor.”
She flushed. “Evander—”
He pushed her dress up as far as it would go, baring her breasts to his gaze. Like a man starved, he took her right nipple into his mouth, sucking hard. His other hand tugged and pinched her left nipple, mixing pleasure with the faintest edge of pain.
She arched against him, begging him for more. Wetness gathered between her legs.
He couldn’t get enough of her. Never could. Four years into their marriage, he wanted her as much as the day he had found her in the inn.
He released her breast with a soft pop, lavishing the other nipple with the same attention. She almost whined in disappointment when he moved away from her breasts and kissed a path down her stomach.
Her breath hitched. She lifted her hips without being told.
For a long moment, Evander simply stood there, staring. He had never looked at a woman the way he looked at her now—as if she were the only soul in the world.
He glanced up once, almost asking if this was truly what she wanted. She nodded, and he continued, only to skip the place that ached for him most.
She let out a desperate moan, bucking her hips. He planted soft, playful bites up and down her inner thighs. Sometimes his lips came so close to her sex that he knew she could feel the warm brush of his breath. Then he would return to her thighs.
By the end of his teasing, she was dripping onto the sheets, her legs quivering with anticipation.
He slid one finger inside her and curled it, making her cry out. He chuckled and pressed a firm kiss to her bud. She jerked, and his hands came up to pin her hips to the bed.
His finger was replaced by his tongue. Her eyes widened at the new sensation, but she welcomed it with a moan that stole his breath away.
Her release was building. She dug her nails into the sheets. Then she arched, a cry echoing through the chamber.
Evander did not pull away. Instead, he looked at her again—really looked—as though she were a gift newly unwrapped, and began kissing a trail once more from her neck, down the valley between her breasts, then down her stomach.
Her body was already buzzing with fresh desire and anticipation as his mouth drew closer to her core. He placed a gentle kiss on her damp sex, and she bit back a sound.
“There’s no need to muffle yer pleasure, lass,” he murmured, his warm breath fanning her folds.
