The Forsaken

My soulmate has needs that only I can satisfy.

 

Andre breathed in deep, then pierced me with another heated look. His muscles were tightly coiled.

 

I cleared my throat. “I still can’t believe my champion is making me sleep in the woods,” I said, because it seemed like the only way to put distance between this. Us.

 

Andre stood—the king who just spent the last twenty minutes readying our camp—and came over to me. He tilted my face to his. “How might I make things better for my sweet siren?”

 

Another endearment. And now he was looking at me like he could see through my weak attempts at being rude.

 

“A toothbrush and toothpaste.”

 

Andre went to our bag and dug out both, presenting me with them.

 

I blinked. “Oh. Uh, thanks.” It had been more of a pipedream than an actual request. I’d assumed I’d have to go sans toiletries while we ran. I should’ve known he’d include it if he managed to pack a tent and furs.

 

I stepped out of the tent and brushed my teeth several times to get rid of all traces of my earlier sickness. The trees rustled as a gentle breeze stirred them, and a short distance away an owl hooted. This place seemed peaceful and remote enough, but would it hide us well enough for the next day?

 

 

 

My fears and insecurities came rising to the surface. What if they found us during the day while we slept?

 

It didn’t take too much imagination to figure out what would happen. A stake in my heart and Andre dragged into the sun. I might still be human enough to wake up in the middle of it, to be cognizant of the fact that I was getting killed, but Andre wouldn’t. Not until he was fully in the throes of death. The images were horrifying, and I had to force them down. We could only stay the course at this point.

 

I headed back for the tent … and promptly ran into it. The thing quivered, like it might go down.

 

“Soulmate?” Andre’s disembodied head leaned out of the tent a moment later, his lips twitching like mad.

 

“Don’t you dare laugh.”

 

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Andre held the flap open.

 

I re-entered, my eyes seeking out the bed before I averted them once more.

 

“So, what are our next moves?” I sat down next to it and began to remove my shoes.

 

Andre followed me down to the ground, and his hands covered mine as I reached for my boot. Electricity jolted through the touch and our gazes met.

 

Breathless, I let go of my shoe, and Andre’s fingers curled over the leather. He removed it for me, his hands skimming over my calves and caressing my ankles as he pulled it off.

 

 

 

He moved to the other boot, his hands again gliding over my leg. Andre was making shoe removal into some erotic dance, paying homage to my legs.

 

My socks were quick to go next, and then Andre’s hands drifted to the knives strapped against me. He unhooked the holsters with the utmost care, setting them on the edge of the bed, next to his own.

 

The atmosphere was changing, the air heavy with our barely-restrained desires.

 

My pulse tapped out some tune as his scent enveloped me once more. He picked me up and moved me onto our makeshift bed. I dug my fingers into the thick fur beneath me.

 

Andre’s body leaned over mine. I stared up at him, feeling strangely vulnerable. This was what men and women did together, what I wanted to do with Andre. And it felt like a whole world of emotions wrapped itself into every touch and look.

 

He found my jacket’s zipper, and he dragged it down. The sound of parting material seemed louder than a fireworks display. With his help, I shrugged the garment off.

 

His eyes softened as he gazed down at me. “My love, there are not words to describe all the ways you are magic.”

 

My throat constricted. I knew the feeling. He was my deepest wish, my most coveted dream, and impossible though it seemed, he was real. That was the most awe-inspiring magic out there.

 

Andre slid a hand behind my head and leaned down until his lips pressed against mine. Almost reverently he stroked my mouth with his own, building a slow, steady fire at my core.

 

 

 

He tasted like home, like finally, finally my soul could be at ease because he was here. He nipped at my bottom lip, demanding entrance. Half of me wanted to resist, just to see what my demanding boyfriend would do, but the other, dominant half knew I didn’t have that much self-restraint. My lips parted, and his tongue scoured my mouth.

 

His body pressed flush against mine, and his hand skimmed down my side. Stopping mid-thigh, his grip tightened as he pulled my leg closer towards him.

 

He broke away from the kiss, and his lips skimmed my jawline. “I want to remove every last shred of fabric from your body and mine,” he whispered into my ear, pressing a kiss to the underside of my jaw while one of his hands traveled down my torso “and bury myself so deep inside you that neither of us can remember where I end and you begin.”

 

I let out a gasp at his words, my skin brightening. His fingers trailed along the hem of my shirt before finding the edge of my pants. Deftly they flicked open the top button and delved beneath the fabric of both pants and panties.

 

“Andre—” I couldn’t decide if I was going to ask him something, tell him something, or plead with him. In the end I decided I just wanted the sound of his name on my tongue.

 

His hooded eyes burned into mine as his fingers found my core, and I jolted at the sensation, even as he let out a groan. “Ah dios mio,” he said, “you feel even better than I imagined. And how I have imagined.” His fingers stroked me rhythmically, and I found myself moving against him. “I cannot wait to taste you, soulmate.”

 

 

 

Taste?

 

I was panting. Oh my God, I was panting like a freaking animal.

 

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