Page 58 of No Greater Sorrow

He pulled her closer. The heat of his body was intoxicating, and Aleja was thankful that her inner voice remained quiet. When she shifted, she felt Nic’s half-hard cock pressed against her, but she didn’t move to touch him, nor did he do anything but sigh at the sudden pressure. And, gods, she wanted to give in. She missed the sweet ache as he filled her—something that made the following pleasure even more intense. It was intoxicating to be wanted this much, even when their love had already set so much on fire.

Nicolas pressed a soft kiss to her throat, but when she stiffened against him, he dropped his head back to the pillow, interpreting her stillness as rejection. In truth, Aleja wanted to drag his hand toward the wetness between her legs and ask him to fuck her as the snake tattoo writhed on his chest—a macabre symbol of how he’d failed to stay away even after their love had destroyed him once before. And Aleja might be weak, but Our Lady of Wrath couldn’t be. Not now, when she was so close to Sainthood. So close to the day when she would place a horned crown on her head and assume her full power.

Yet the memory of Nicolas slumped over on an Umbramare made her feel like she was the one whose heart had been stolen from her chest. Her nipples hardened beneath her tunic as she pushed an arm between them, and Nicolas made a choked sound when she cupped his erection through his trousers.

“I thought you—” he began.

“We’re not about to fuck,” she said, decisive aside from the tremor of need in her voice. “But you look extremely pathetic on this healer’s cot. I can’t help but feel sorry for you.”

He said nothing as she undid the tie on the loose pants one of the medics had changed him into. When she wiggled them down his hips, his cock was fully hard and flush against him. She stifled back a moan, as if his pleasure was shared between them; it gave her an idea, pulling her back to a memory that the past few hours had left her too frantic to explore.

“When we were in the Astraelis camp, I felt you through the marriage bond,” she whispered.

“I was panicking. I had to find you.”

“Can we only connect like that when one of us is in danger?” she asked, recalling that Nicolas had known about the dreams she’d had of his hands roaming her body.

“No,” he said, dragging the single syllable out, as if he’d worked out what she was really asking. “Any intense situation will do.”

“A situation like this?” she asked, letting her hand brush lightly over his cock before pulling it away again.

His hips bucked to meet her a second too late. “Yes. A situation just like this.”

“Why didn’t you tell me before?”

“Ididtell you, remember? What do you think prevented me from sleeping those nights? All I could think about was touching you, tasting you, fucking you. You never seemed to want to speak of it again, so I didn’t bring it up.”

“You can feel it when I come? And I can feel it when you do?” she asked, letting her eyes linger on his cock. She missed the weight of it in her hand but restrained herself from reaching for him.

“When we allow the bond to flow freely between us, yes.”

“Did we used to do that a lot?”

“It is extremely pleasurable.”

Aleja slipped her hand beneath her waistband. Her pussy was warm, sensitive, as she grazed her folds with her fingertips. Nicolas’s eyes remained unblinking, as if he was afraid to miss the sight of her knees falling open.

“Come on, Knowing One. Let me watch you touch yourself. While you’re at it, show me why Otherlander marriage bonds are so special,” she told him. Her gaze stayed latched on his as she circled her clit, back arching off the thin mattress.

She did not expect the sudden wave of pleasure as Nicolas’s large hand wrapped around his cock. His sensations layered over her own, butgods, it was more than that. She felt his desire for her, the way he longed to watch her fingers plunge deep inside, the way he wanted to press his face against her inner thigh and bite down hard enough to make her writhe. A deep groan escaped her—fuck. She hoped the medics weren’t lingering outside the tent.

“I’m sure they knew to scatter when you returned from the meeting alone,” he chuckled, catching one of her thoughts. “Maybe I should have held back at first.”

“No. It’sgood. I’ll just—muffle my mouth with the pillow,” she managed, turning to the side to bury her face into the scratchy fabric.

But when Nicolas began to stroke himself, she realized how futile it was. It wasn’t just his desire mingling with hers now—she could feel his jolts of sensation. Especially when he watched her dip two fingers inside of herself, angled for the spot that always made her toes curl.

“Can I do that for you, dove?” he asked, voice ragged.

His face was in a drunken haze when she opened her eyes, as if he’d chugged all the healer’s pain tonics at once. The hand he used to stroke himself moved slowly, and through the bond, Aleja understood why. He wanted her so much he was already teetering on the verge of a climax.

“No.” It took all her willpower to say it when all she wanted—all sheneeded—was to pull him against her. Brief disappointment crossed his features before she continued. “Not tonight. You haven’t earned it yet.”

The words were said with no malice—not when they were so connected that his desire for forgiveness was strong in her mind, made sharper and more intense by lust. But the part of Aleja that would have given in had died during the first Trial. Now, her glass heart lay buried beneath the Second’s mountain.

Nicolas nodded in acquiescence, and Aleja forced her eyes to remain open when she returned her attention to her clit. Her orgasm was going to come too strong, too fast, and when combined with the feeling of his hand on his cock, now stroking firmer and more quickly, Aleja thought her whole body might shatter from the sensation.

“That’s it, dove. Let yourself—please—I need to?—”

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