“Goddess...” I breathe as he circles my clit with two fingers, moving over me like a master musician plucking the perfect strings. My body sings for him in all the right notes.
When he sinks a finger into me, still keeping the other curled to caress my clit, we both groan. His mouth comes down to nibble at the side of my neck, while his other hand squeezes and caresses my breasts, twisting my nipples and making the peaks stiffen.
“Slade, I want you,” I moan out, my head tipping back against his.
“And you’ll have me,” he replies, kissing the back of my neck. “There’s a short shelf just in front of you—I want one knee propped up on it.”
Out of my mind with thrumming need, I quickly raise my knee, finding the smooth rock exactly where he said it would be.
“Perfect,” he tells me as his hand on my breasts falls away. Then, his finger leaves my pussy, the crown of his cock taking its place.
I’m instantly being stretched, my breath catching as he pushes in with agonizing slowness. Inch by inch he sinks into me, and somehow, him going slow just makes me feel fuller. The hot water surrounding us makes everything slicker.
When his pelvis hits my ass, he gives it a squeeze, while a groan travels through his chest. “So fucking good. So tight and ready.”
I feel his lips on my back again, and I realize that this positioning he put me in was entirely purposeful. But then, everything Slade does is for a purpose, so I shouldn’t be surprised. He doesn’t keep us face-to-face, he has me like this with my back still bared to him, and when he places kisses there again, it’s like he’s replacing the violence and marking me with tenderness instead. Reminding me that I’m not ruined. That despite it all, we’re here, together, and that sometimes, our worlds have to rip in order for us to end up where we’re meant to be.
“Slade, I need you to move,” I tell him, all while he strokes, caresses, makes my body melt and all my reservations thaw into draining rivulets.
His hand comes back to my clit with almost reprimanding quickness, and a garbled breath gets stuck in my throat as his fingers start to rub me in rapid, determined circles.
At the same time, he drags himself out and then thrusts back into me. Again. And again. And again. His pace is steady and hard, and when he uses his other hand to grip my thigh and tilt me up just a little bit more, a jolt of heat slams through me.
My back arches as an embarrassing mewling sound escapes me, though the bubbling sound of the water drowns some of it out.
“Yes, yes,” I chant, feeling his touch on my clit like a thousand different lightning bolts coursing down my limbs, up my stomach, even heating the soles of my feet. Feeling him hit that spot inside of me that makes me want to crash into a crescendo.
“Faster, Slade. I want to come. I want to come with you.”
“I’ll give you what you want,” he says, voice heated and hungry, dominant and protective. “Hold on.”
I straighten my arms, bracing myself, and Slade starts fucking me hard and fast, making the water splash around us. The slapping water is somehow the perfect addition to the erotic noises that accompany his groans and my own.
“Your pussy is clamping down on my dick like it wants to milk me dry,” he hisses in my ear, sharp teeth skating over the curve. “You’re close, aren’t you, baby?”
“Yes! Please!”
His fingers strum my clit, harder and faster and harder and—
I combust. In the heat of the water with the waves of it crashing against my arms and chest, I catch fire from my feet to my chest, tingling with release.
Slade lets out the sexiest sound against my ear as he jolts, his cock pulsing cum into my body, and I melt against him as my own waves slowly ebb.
Panting against each other, Slade gives me one last kiss against my back before he turns me around and sits me sideways on his lap. He holds me there with my head tucked against his chest, with the steam curling around us like a curtain meant to keep us hidden from everything else.
After a while, after the silence has become a comfort, the bubbling water nothing but a humming background noise, I look up at him, making him tilt his head down to look at me. “This is it, isn’t it?” I ask quietly, feeling so soft and secure in his arms. “This is real love.” That word. That huge, momentous, meaningful word just falls out of me, rippling the waters between us, but I know it’s true.
Before, when I thought I had that, it was nothing like this. It was nothing like him. After tonight, I see with such clarity. I see what’s right in front of me.
Slade’s arms tighten around me, and then he places a kiss on my forehead. “Yes, Auren. This is love.”
CHAPTER 39
AUREN
Slade and I spend the rest of the night in bed. He makes love to me two more times before I fall asleep, only to wake up with his mouth between my thighs while his tongue does wicked, wicked things.
I’m not sure what time it is when we both fall asleep again, but when I wake up the next time, I’m alone in bed. It’s not anything unusual since I’ve been keeping opposite sleeping patterns in fear of suddenly gilding something. Still, I can’t help the pang of disappointment at not having him here.
Looking at the clock sitting on top of the fireplace mantel, I see that I didn’t sleep as long as I usually do. It’s late afternoon, which means it’s still daylight. Normally, I’d turn over and bury myself beneath the blankets, content to hide until night. But my stomach decides to growl hollowly right at that moment, because it’s been a long time since the feast at the pavilion. Especially considering how...active Slade and I were last night.
It helped, to fall into each other instead of getting bogged down with all those revelations. But now that I’m alone and have time to process, all I can think about is this village. About all the long-lived Oreans inside of it.
Mostly, I think about his mother.
I can relate to her. She was taken away from her world, trapped with a cruel man. Coveted for her magic, kept away like a trinket to bear him fruit. I wonder what happened when she went through that rip, why she no longer speaks.
Perhaps her voice broke that day, right alongside her lover’s neck.
It makes sense now, why I kept picking up something odd about the villagers and Elore. I must’ve been sensing their connection to Annwyn, as subtle as it may be.
But mostly, the thing that keeps cropping up in my head is wondering how I got here. If Slade and his father wielded their magic and tore the world…did someone else do the same? Was I smuggled through some rip that might still exist somewhere in Orea? The thought that another fae could’ve been sold to the flesh market, treated just as I was, makes my heart hurt. And yet, if there are other fae in Orea…where are they?
My thoughts roll in and out on a steady tide until my stomach really starts to complain, and I force myself out of bed. “It’ll be fine,” I murmur as I leave the warmth of the blankets and wander into the adjoining room. I’m not going to gild anything during the day.
I have to start taking baby steps, and getting up with the daylight is the first one. The last thing I want is to lose control and hurt this village. I would never forgive myself.
After using the washroom, I wander into the closet. Now that my back is mostly healed, I decide to ditch Osrik’s shirts in lieu of one more my size. I pull on clean clothes and then head back into the bedroom, my gloved hand pausing on the handle of the door. With a deep breath, I open it and step out, walking down the long hallway to head for the kitchen.
When I’m nearly to the open doorway of the living room, my steps come to a halt at the sound of voices straining past the walls.
“Rip, we can’t keep ignoring these.”
That’s Lu’s voice, and her tone sounds...worried.
“I know,” Slade replies, a heavy resignation weighing down his words.