Shadow's End (Elder Races #9)

She loved sensuality, and she enjoyed making love. She’d had other lovers besides Calondir, both before marrying him and after they had decided to reunite for the sake of the baby.

But the community they had established in South Carolina was a close-knit one, and she hadn’t taken a lover since they had created the Elven demesne, so long ago. She had set that part of herself aside and focused on the many other aspects of her life.

She felt as if she had drifted into a state where she had been only half-alive, partially awake, but now her sexuality had flared to life again, opening all her senses.

The ground felt harder, the air cooler, the fire warmer. Her skin was hypersensitive to the weight of her cloak and the uneven folds of his coats underneath. Unaccustomed to being with a man, the private place between her legs throbbed.

The look on his face as he left her. Her emotions felt heightened too, and the pleasure she had felt turned to ashes. Her eyes filled.

Blinking back the wetness, she searched for the handkerchief from the parcel of food. When she found it, she used it to clean the inside of her thighs. Then, as the clearing lightened with dawn, she dressed.

Funny. She had been so warm before, she had felt like she was burning up. Now she felt so cold, her bones ached.

She kicked apart the dying fire and began to toss dirt onto the most stubborn of the embers. As she worked, Graydon returned in silence.

He was naked, of course, and dripping wet, and completely unself-conscious about his nudity. He moved fluidly, without affectation or hesitation, like an animal.

Staring at him, she forgot what she was doing. They had coupled together in such an uncontrolled, heated rush, this was the first time she had truly seen all of him.

Unclothed, his masculine body was lethal in its perfection. He was the same golden tan all over, his tall broad bone structure wrapped with heavy, powerful muscles. The sprinkle of dark brown hair on his chest arrowed down his long, rippling abdomen to his groin.

No longer erect, his penis was still large and heavy. It lay in a thick arc over round, tight testicles. She swallowed as she looked at him. No wonder she was so sore.

She dragged her eyes up to his closed expression. His jaw was tight, and he held the firm lines of his mouth in an uncharacteristically stern line.

“I’m sorry,” she told him. “If I had been thinking more clearly, I wouldn’t have started dousing the fire before you’d had a chance to dry off and dress.”

With the back of one hand, he swiped at a droplet of water on the end of his nose. “It’s all right. I needed the cold.”

He wasn’t deliberately being mean or cruel. She didn’t believe he could ever be that with her. He had simply closed himself off emotionally, in a way that he hadn’t been since he had stepped into her path at the masque.

Ducking her head, she went back to her task, not stopping until she was certain the fire had been extinguished. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched as he dragged on his clothes. It couldn’t be pleasant to dress while still wet, but he didn’t complain.

She couldn’t blame him for erecting an emotional wall. In fact, the wisest thing she could do was follow suit, but she missed that magical sense of connection they had shared. She missed it desperately.

As she looked at the strong lines of his throat where his shirt lay open, she had to swallow again. And oh gods, the desire she felt for him was stronger than ever.

I want this too much.

The quiet force behind his words ripped through her memory. She should respect the closed wall she saw in his face and leave him alone. She had to let go of him. Their brief time was over. The sun would be up in a matter of minutes, and she needed to find her son.

Her feet didn’t understand any of that reasoning. Acquiring a will of their own, they carried her over to him. He watched her approach with a dark, brooding gaze. She thought of half a dozen things she might say, but everything seemed to run the gamut between needy and banal.

In the end, she simply shook her head at him. Her mouth twisting, she walked forward and put her arms around his waist, hugging him tightly. He stood rigid, neither denying her embrace nor responding to it.

The sweetness had left her heart, until all that remained was pain. She buried her face in his chest, muffling a sob.

Finally he moved. His arms closing around her, he bowed his head over hers.

Her voice thick, she managed to say, “I am experiencing a great deal of difficulty at the thought of letting you go. I probably shouldn’t tell you that, but I can’t seem to help myself, because among other things, over the course of this night you’ve become my dear friend, and I’ve cherished confiding in you. And I want this too much, too.”

He held her tightly with his whole body.

“I shouldn’t have left you so abruptly like that,” he said into her hair. “Bel, I don’t want to let you go. Because I can’t control my emotions, I’ve spoiled the last few minutes we had together. I’m sorry.”