Page 77 of The Other Side of the Mirror

His eyes shone bright with emotion, staring at me with an adoration that stole my breath away.

“I love you,” Bash breathed. “You are my perfect match, my mirror in so many ways.My heart was yours long before I let myself admit it. I…I think it’s always belonged to you.”

When his lips found mine, the kiss was slow and sweet, as if we had all the time in the world. We broke apart, panting. But there was something different on his face, something soft yet sure.

Bash took an unsteady breath, then reached over to unsheathe my dagger from where it lay forgotten by the bed. Lifting my hand, he looked at me for permission. I nodded, and he kissed the scar on my palm. Then he sliced across his hand, then mine. My blood welled, painting the rose emblazoned there a deep red before he pressed our hands together.

“You are my beloved…”

His voice resonated curiously, as though it was more than everything, yet just between the two of us. And, somehow, I knew the words needed to accept this bond as if they had been magically whispered into my soul.

“And I am yours.”

My voice was full of wonder—of love and eternity.

Then he kissed me, swift and sure. An answer to every question in my heart. And the beginning of something more.

I almost didn’t notice it at first. It started as a trickle from where our hands were still joined, and then there was music in my veins. My eyes widened as my magic exploded out of me unbidden in a swirling cloud around us. Bash’s own wide eyes locked onto mine, and I recognized the gray of his shadows dancing with my darkness, twisting and twirling together in a circling storm. I realized we were glowing like two stars in an endless, stormy night.

When I opened my mouth to say something—to ask what was happening, what this meant—I felt it. The bond between us, indelibly linking me to him, our souls forever joined. When I looked at Bash, there were tears on his cheeks, matching my own as I felt the endless love he had for me through our bond then a ripple of pure joy.

“I love you too,” I said, my voice raw. “And maybe you now know exactly how much.”

It was my first time ever saying those words as well. But it felt like they were waiting for him.

Bash wrapped his arms around me, kissing away the tears on my cheeks. “I love you,” he breathed. Then, pleadingly, “Say it again.”

I did, and he kissed me before I even finished the third word, his tongue thoroughly tasting my mouth with enough promise to make me squirm. Each touch, each reaction seemed heightened, given new meaning by our connection—that love inescapable.

As if with one mind, we reached for the other, stripping our clothing so quickly buttons flew. His happiness was light like laughter across our bond. I couldn’t get enough of the reflection of it across his face.

My mouth watered at the sight of Bash’s naked chest, his rippling abdominals built up from swordfighting and sparring so tempting I stroked a hand down his stomach. I knew he could feel the intensity of my desire.

But Bash’s gaze had turned predatory at the sight of my black lace thong.

“Thathas been taunting me ever since I saw it back in your drawer,” he said hungrily. “Do you know how many times I pictured it on you? That scrap of nothing between the cheeks of your perfect ass?”

His fingers pulled at the back of my thong, the friction making me moan as the fabric went taut, rubbing against the most sensitive part of me. He undid my bra easily, deliberately pulling down the straps from my shoulders before stepping back to admire me. “Do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted to taste these?”

Bash nipped his way down my neck, drawing little gasps at each stop, only pausing when he reached my breasts. One hand lightly twisted my nipple as his lips kissed a line of fire down my midline. Then his mouth closed over the hardened nub of the other.

“Bash—”

His tongue twirled against me, and my words cut off with a whimper, the pleasure of it making my back arch.

Then his lips claimed mine with the desperation of a hunger too long denied. The sort of appetite that might never be assuaged. Bash’s mouth was thorough, almost punishing in its intensity as he laid me down on the bed. When I reached down to feel the hard length of him, he chuckled. His hands wrapped around my wrists, pinning them above my head.

“Patience, hellion, or I’ll?—”

I felt the chains holding me to Aviel’s bed. Bash immediately let go as he saw or sensed, my dread.

“I won’t let him take that from you either,” he murmured into my ear. “But we’ll go slow.”

Bash brought my hands to his mouth, kissing the red lines on each wrist that were already fading into scars. As I relaxed, his hands slid down to the small of my back, carefully pulling me back against him. Our lips met, his tongue exploring my mouth, chasing mine with soft strokes I felt down to my toes. There was a tight, curling sensation starting in my belly, an ache of need between my thighs.

I needed more of him. My lips found his neck, and the taste of his skin—like the woods we had spent so many nights in together—left me even more ravenous. I wanted to taste every freckle on his body. My core clenched as I took in the tented bulge underneath his briefs. Grabbing onto his waistband, I pulled them down without preamble.

The sight of his substantial length made my mouth drop open. A pool of smugness eddied across our bond. When I looked up, Bash had a salacious smirk on his face. But his eyes darkened as I curled one beckoning finger at him.

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