Between Tides Thunder(128)
I drag in a quivering breath, fingers trailing along the sharp edge of his jaw, committing every detail to memory.
“I think,” I murmur, “it’s time we consummate our marriage.”
He leans back just enough to look me over, voice both sharp and soft, like a velvet blade. “Take off your clothes,” he growls, “and wait for me on the bed.”
I scramble off his lap, shucking off my tunic and leggings before climbing onto the thin mattress. By the time I’m settled, Zev’s disappeared into the washroom, and the sound of running water greets my ears. Anticipation skitters along my spine, through every nerve of my body. Tides, I’ve wanted this for months.
Except Zev takes the longest shower in the history of showers. In the history of man, really. I debate wielding the water into ice, but I don’t think that’d go over well.
By the time the water shuts off, I’m practically crawling out of my skin. My husband emerges from the washroom with damp hair, water droplets clinging to his bare torso. A rush of desire pulses through my core as my eyes drink him in, all tanned skin and cut muscles. His molten gaze rakes over me. My skin pebbles beneath his heated appraisal.
A slow, wicked smile unfurls across his lips.
The kind that promises pain and pleasure all at once.
Despite all his threats of making me ache, Zev is exceedingly gentle with me.
Whispers of I love you so fucking much in my ears. Sweet, tender kisses feathered all over my face and jaw. Sweat-slicked skin, hot kisses on my neck, fingers laced tightly above my head. A murmured you’re so fucking perfect.
Slow, deep thrusts and I’m so sorry, baby.
Pressed foreheads, swallowed moans, soft promises.
He eases me through the pain, coaxing it into pleasure.
I unravel in his arms, a shuddering pool of electric nerves.
My husband is gentle and kind and sweet.
All the things he swore he wouldn’t be.
The first time.
I’ve barely caught my breath, skin still tingling with pleasure, when he flips me onto my stomach and then, Tides, does he ruin me.
Rough hands twisting in my hair, yanking my head back.
A rumbling you’re mine, only mine, all fucking mine.
Sharp bites on my earlobe, purpling bruises sucked into my skin.
Demanding fingers on my hips, pulling me back harder against him. Say my name. Say my fucking name, growled into my flesh over and over again until I forget my own. The imprint of his large hand might be permanently tattooed around my throat.
Take it. Take everything I give you.
He reduces me to a mewling, whimpering, aching mess.
And still, I’m not ruined enough.
I beg for mercy, but it never comes. Just like he promised.
I come, though. Again and again and again.
He wrings another earth-shaking scream from me, until I’m writhing on the bed, scrambling away, but he drags me back, spreading me open before him like a feast until I lose all sense of myself.
With tears on my cheeks and his name on my lips, he makes me shatter for what must be the sixth time. I’m limp on the damp mattress, still quivering from aftershocks as he kisses his way up my body, then gathers me into his strong arms.
A contented hum escapes my swollen lips, and I nestle deeper into him. “I love you,” I mumble against his chest, only half coherent. “You’ve thoroughly ruined me.”
A deep masculine chuckle vibrates beneath my cheek, his fingers tracing long, firm lines against my side.
My body stills.
A horrifying, breath-stopping, blood-freezing thought crosses my mind. What if this was his goodbye?
“Zev,” I whisper, all vestiges of sleep chased away by panicked terror. “You’ll—you’ll stay, right?”
His silence nearly undoes me.
“Say something.”
He doesn’t.
Instead, he rises from the bed and rifles in his satchel.
“Zev?” My voice cracks like a thin sheet of ice.
Thank the Tides he returns to bed and draws me back into his arms.
A relieved breath sags through me as I melt into him.
“Yeah,” he murmurs, grasping my hand and sliding his ring back onto my finger. The teardrop diamond winks in the lantern light. It fits perfectly, as if I’d worn it all along. Zev kisses my palm and holds it against his stubbled cheek. “Yeah, baby, I’ll stay.”
EPILOGUE
THREE MONTHS LATER
THE BRISK MORNING AIR kisses my face, threading chilly fingers through my loose hair. Beneath my sandaled feet, the stone balcony is cool and pleasant. Even winter in Arbinj is nothing compared to the cruel cold of the tundra I once called home.
The capital sprawls beneath me. Brick buildings, shingled roofs, neat and orderly streets—the city that welcomed me home as their Healing Queen along with their newly crowned Commander-turned-King.
Footsteps sound behind me, familiar and steady. A smile curves my lips as a muscled arm snakes around my waist, my husband’s mouth finding my fluttering pulse.
“Ready?” Zev murmurs, pulling me back against his chest.
“Yes,” I lie. He doesn’t conceal the gentle ripple that travels through him.
“It’ll be all right. The last letter was optimistic, remember?” His fingers trace slow, steady circles over my waist, anchoring me with his touch.