Page 39 of Bound and Tide

Xander followed with another indignant huff, but it caught in his throat when he straightened into the clearing she’d led him to. Hemmed in entirely by trees, sun blotted out, the spot was somehow bereft of snow and shockingly warm. Birds twittered in the green boughs overhead, and a set of rabbits snuggled at its edge, so cozy they didn’t dart away when the two entered.

And of course there were mushrooms.

Red was already amongst them, fingers gliding over the tree in their ring’s center, calling up a fissure of light that ran through the trunk.

Xander sprinted across the short distance, grabbing her arm and yanking it away from the doorway disguised as a tree. “What are you doing?” Despite his best effort, his voice was tight from the alarm in his chest.

“Taking you somewhere to warm up.”

Xander shook his head. “Fae are dangerous.”

Red pouted, slipping her hand from his grip so that she could touch his chin. “I thought you were dangerous?”

He had always thought so too, but now?

“There’s never been anyone on the other side of this door. I know the risk of traveling to the Everdarque, but I don’t get the chance to leave Bendcrest often,” she said, caressing the tree again, and the tear in the realm widened. “I can’t forest walk like full-blooded elves, but the door in this tree answers when I knock.” There was a glint in the emeralds of her eyes, one that told him it didn’t matter what he said, she was going and he could come or not—and he certainly wanted to come.

Everything shifted in the pace of two steps. Where there had been frigidness, there was warmth, sunlight traded for darkness, and the quiet stillness of the wood was overtaken by the crashing of waves. The only similarity was the briny breeze, but this was fresh off an ocean, a sandy beach spreading before them under a dark and star-filled sky. It was too warm for the Everdarque’s winter, but Xander knew the summer court was always painted with sunlight, so this place with its heat and nighttime had to be some forgotten corner of the fae’s realm.

Sweat was already forming on the back of Xander’s neck, but any complaint was silenced by Red unclasping her cloak and letting it fall into the scrubby brush nearby. She pulled at the ties running up the front of her dress and the thicker material pooled at her feet, leaving her in a shorter, linen shift. When she met his eye in the dark, that too was shucked off.

Red stood before him naked in the starlight, the long, lean lines of her body bending to accentuate the roundness of her hips. If he were not struck so still, he would have fallen to his knees there in the sand. The curve of her shoulders—remarkable, the dip of her bellybutton—sublime, the shape of her calves—perfection.

Then she was walking away, pinning up her mass of red curls and exposing the graceful arch of her back. Her long legs were taking her toward the sea, but he was too enthralled watching her go, his chest squeezing, both telling him to savor the moment and to run, to pursue, to not lose her.

Xander doffed his clothes much less elegantly, but then she wasn’t looking this time, and he finally managed to follow her divine ass. Red was already submerged to her waist when he made it to the shore. The ocean crashed on rocks farther out, but on the beach it only lapped at his feet, as warm as bathwater and driving tingles up through his legs, the potential of arcana pricking at his flesh. Every ebb pulled him deeper, and when he came up behind her, he didn’t hesitate to wrap arms around her middle and press his lips to the back of her neck. She melted into his embrace with a purr that vibrated straight through to his chest.

They stood like that for some uncountable time staring out at the shadows of the horizon, sky melting into sea, stars rippling over far off waves. Xander pressed his cheek to her head and dragged in a breath of herbs and ocean, the smell laced with so much magic he thought for one brief, ludicrous moment that this was all he would ever need.

Red turned in his arms and dragged him deeper into the water, submerging them both until her breasts teased the surface. She lifted his hands from the place they’d settled on her waist and inspected them. “Hmm, all the nicks you got from the verglasberry bush have already healed. Pity—I was going to give them some special care and attention.”

“Blood mages don’t need special care taken with them.” He smirked, but it wasn’t full of the pride he’d meant.

“Nonsense. Everyone does,” she said, and pressed her lips to the tip of one finger anyway. She worked her way across his hand, kissing each print, each knuckle, his palm, his wrist, and then traded it for the other.

Xander remained silent, bobbing in the water as he watched the methodical tenderness she used as if she were casting some healing spell, as if his unmarred skin needed mending, as if he were worthy of her time and care. He fell into a trance watching and wondered if he’d actually drowned in that prison pit and had somehow made it to Empyrea.

“There,” she said in a voice quieter than usual, giving him a squeeze before releasing his hands to rove over her body. “Hopefully that feels a bit better.”

“Feels…good,” he murmured, running thumbs over her nipples and cupping her breasts.

Red hung onto his neck and tipped her head back, the long line of her throat exposed to the sky and welcoming his mouth. He licked her from clavicle to jaw, salt and sweat and her coating his tongue. He hadn’t had so much freedom with her body yet, so he wasted no time in taking full advantage, touching every bit of flesh and learning her curves, caressing along her spine, palming her ass, hooking beneath her thigh and lifting her leg to slide fingers inside her.

Her body slid up against his, his length trapped between them, begging him to lift her just enough and nestle himself inside. But the snug grip of her hand found him instead, thumb circling the tip. “What were you up to when you were gone this time?”

He hummed as she massaged him, sliding his own thumb between her legs to do its own circling. “A sort of…heist.”

“Oh?” Her grip slipped down past the base of him and palmed his sack, relaxed in the warm water. “So you are a thief after all?”

His chuckle hitched. “Not exactly, but I succeeded in lifting a hefty mark.”

Red’s breathing went heavy as she fought the pleasure he was kneading into her. “All on your lonesome?”

He hesitated, and that was all it took.

The sharpness of her nails bit into his most sensitive skin, and he took back every scrotum-slicing threat he’d ever made.

“Those are priceless jewels, darling,” he said breathlessly.

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