Page 88 of Heart of the Summer Queen

“I am surprised you remembered.”

“Your birthday seemed an important thing to remember,” I say, “especially as your wife.”

He presses his lips to my forehead. My heart flutters.

“I suppose with no one knowing, you haven’t celebrated a birthday in centuries?”

“That’s true. I have not.”

“This year we will celebrate it together,” I promise.

He smiles softly. “I can think of no better way to spend it.”

I return his smile, but then it falters at the thought of facing Isidore. How we might not return to the palace together. Just imagining a life without him causes tears to prick my eyes. “I want to be with you always, Elaric. I can’t bear to lose you.”

“I could not bear to lose you, either,” he mutters into my hair.

I press my lips to his, kissing him desperately. As if for the last time. I don’t know how many more chances we will have before Eruweth appears on the horizon like a death sentence, shattering this joy.

When we reach its shores, we will be solely focused on finding and slaying Isidore, and may never return from our quest. This blissful moment together may be our final one. My whole being is consumed by the need to show him exactly how I feel.

“Adara,” he says, caressing my cheeks.

I trace his face, across his brows, down his temple and his jaw. He closes his eyes, allowing me to paint this eternal image in my mind. Does he too realize this may be our last chance?

My fingers become lips, trailing his neck, savoring each of his strained responses. But it’s not enough. I must capture all of him.

I tug the hem of his tunic. He requires little convincing to pull it over his head.

My hands roam across his chest, testing the solidness of every muscle. Gradually delving lower until they skim across his abdomen, finding the stays of his breeches.

With a sharp breath, he catches my wrist. “I’m not sure this is wise.” The only pleasing thing about his protest is the sheer unsteadiness of his voice. “Eruweth could appear and—”

“Forget Eruweth,” I interrupt. “Ineedyou, Elaric.”

While the rational part of me knows he’s right to take caution, all I want is to forget everything else and enjoy this moment together, lest it be the last we share.

Perhaps sensing my urgency, he tangles both hands in my hair, pulling me closer. “I’m here,” he breathes. “I’m here.”

Our lips crash together in a maelstrom of fear and desire, drinking in each other as if dying of thirst. When his teeth graze my lower lip, a deep moan shudders through me.

The sound spurs him on, all resistance long banished. He strips away my tunic as frantically as I did his. My breeches soon follow, and within seconds, the two of us are lying there naked upon the deck, basked in starlight.

He watches me briefly before his hands return to me, exploring my skin. As he trails down my lower back, I lean into him, yearning for more.

“I can’t get enough of you,” he murmurs, breath hot against my ears. “Even if I have you like this, every day for the rest of my life, it would never be enough.”

I press his palm flat against my pounding chest, at the very center of my breast, hoping through it he will understand that which I cannot express with words. That he possesses such anenormous part of my heart. As his gaze meets mine, I tighten my grip around his hand, willing the gesture alone to convey my silent message.

Elaric lifts my hand from my chest, all the way to his mouth, and kisses the back. Though the gesture itself is innocent, my skin scorches.

Then his lips glide up, following a burning path from my arm to my shoulder. He continues onward, skimming over my collarbone and then across the sensitive flesh of my neck. His touch leaves me gasping as I fist his hair, unwilling to let go of him.

“Elaric,” I say.

“Yes, my queen?”

“You’re...” I swallow down the emotion clogging my throat. “You’re perfect.”

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