Darkness Raging (Otherworld/Sisters of the Moon #18)

“Yes, I do. And I’m sorry. I’d rather stay here. I’d rather take you with us. But . . .” I sought for the words, which weren’t coming that easily.

Unlike Delilah and Camille, I knew I couldn’t take Nerissa with me. She would distract me—worrying about her safety would take my attention away from where it needed to be. I knew it was unreasonable; after all, she was a werepuma and was learning quickly how to defend herself against all sorts of beasties, but the fact was she was still extremely vulnerable. More importantly, she hadn’t yet learned how to think like a warrior. And that, perhaps, was the biggest danger.

Nerissa was a healer at heart. She knew how to take in pain and transform it. But she still didn’t think in terms of enemies and opponents and sizing up strengths and weaknesses in order to best attack. She thought like a healer, which was wonderful. Beautiful. But not during a battle, when the focus had to be on survival and us versus them.

I rested my head against her and she pressed her lips to my hair, then trailed them down my face, to reach my lips, where she gently—passionately—slid her tongue between them. We kissed, long and lazily, and I pushed the thoughts of the impending battle out of my mind, focusing on her touch, on her smell, on the pulse of her heart against my silent one. I cherished her warmth and every single rise and fall of her chest that meant she was alive, and well, and still my wife.

We stayed like that, frozen, holding each other, until she finally pushed me back to hold me at arm’s length. “I know you have to go.”

“Thank you.” My voice was barely above a whisper. “I will do everything in my power to come back to you alive. I can’t imagine life without you. And Nerissa, I’m so sorry about the past months. I’m sorry I haven’t been able to understand . . .”

“Stop.” She gently pressed her finger against my lips. “Just stop. You’ve made mistakes. I’ve made mistakes. We learn and go on. I’ll be here, waiting, doing my best to keep things moving on this side of the portal. I’ll help Chase. I’ll help Bruce and Hanna watch over the babies. You and your sisters go stop Telazhar.” Pausing, she let a faint smile creep through. “I do wish . . . I wish I could go see the dragons. To see a grandeur of dragons sweeping through the air, to see them going to war? I wish you could take pictures!”

I laughed, then. “You’re like Samwise in The Lord of the Rings. Only instead of wanting to see the elves . . .”

“Yes!” She clapped her hands. “I’d love to see so many dragons filling the sky.” Then the smile faded again. “I wish we had time to spend together before you go. I want to taste you.”

I glanced at the clock. “I know, me, too. But I think . . . I think . . .” But she silenced me, pulling me to her and quickly unzipping my jeans. As her hand slid inside them, her fingers feeling their way down to the thatch between my legs, I slipped my hands under her blouse and unfastened her bra, cupping her breast, pressing my thumb against the erect nipple. She gasped, working me, her mouth crushing mine, in a haste brought on by the desperate fear that we might never see each other again.

We tumbled to the sofa, and with my other hand, I reached beneath her skirt, sliding my fingers inside the thin slip of material that masqueraded as her panties. I quickly found her clit and began to work it, gently, then harder as she moaned.

Her * was wet, and I plunged my fingers inside her, smearing the juice up to lubricate her clit, swirling it harder and harder as she began to thrash. Her fingers were deep in my *, but she was losing focus as I brought her higher, pressing my breasts against hers, kneading away at the ripe globes. I managed to rip open her blouse and lowered my lips to suck on her nipple, biting just hard enough to elicit a sharp cry.

Then I pushed away from her, pulling away from her touch as I lowered myself to the floor and—holding the material away from her crotch—pressed my lips against her sex, licking and sucking hard. She let out another cry and then—before I could do more—she came, hard, tears pouring down her face. I kissed her inner lips gently, then sat back and watched as she curled on the sofa, weeping.

“I’m so scared you’ll die.” She had climaxed out of fear and need and passion, and her orgasm had released her so that now the tears were able to flow.

“I know. So am I.” I leaned in, gathering her close as she held out her arms to me. “I’ll do my best . . . we all will. I love you.”

She sat up then, trying to wipe her eyes. “I guess . . . you’d better go.”

I nodded. “Yeah. I need to get a move on. Promise me you’ll take Hanna and Maggie with you as soon as we leave?”

“I promise. I’ll watch over them.” She hung her head. “I guess Iris has it worse, leaving her babies and Bruce. She is going with you, isn’t she?”

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