Page 116 of Rogue Elves of Ardani

She made a surprised sound when he picked her up, still kissing her, and carried her across the room. She clung to him as he tipped her back onto the bed. A puff of dust rose from the cover as he knelt over her and started pulling at her clothes.

She raised her arms to let him pull her tunic and undershirt over her head, then finally broke off the kiss in order to bend down and pull her boots and leggings off.

Vaara paused to look down at her.

Long golden limbs stretched out beneath him, narrow and soft, lacking the muscle tone that most Varai women had. Delicate, but not weak. The bones of her hips jutted out above the triangle of feminine flesh between her legs. She had a number of scars beneath her clothes—a long, thin one on her side that looked to have been stitched up instead of magically healed, a few more small ones scattered around her arms and chest, and another long one along her outer thigh. One might believe she had led a peaceful, easy life, had they not seen those scars.

She was the most beautiful person he’d ever seen. He had an alarming, sick urge to just lay himself at her feet and worship her for the rest of his days.

Exposed to the cold air, her skin formed goosebumps. The peaks of her breasts tightened. She took a slow breath as she looked up at him.

There was still a lingering discomfort and mistrust between them. He knew they both felt it in that moment, as he knelt over her. It was hard to imagine either of them ever feeling perfectly at ease around the other.

So when he leaned down to claim her mouth, he did so slowly, softly. He traced a hand along her side, over the soft curve of her hip, across her ribs, brushing around the side of her breast.

She pulled at his shirt, trying to get him to take it off. A flare of annoyance went through him. He opted to pretend he didn’t notice what she was doing.

But she pulled back, grabbing his hand to stop its stroking. “Let me see you,” she said.

Flatting his lips into a line, he pulled his shirt over his head and then started on his pants, before he could change his mind.

Crow’s eyes carved a line across his chest, along his arms, and down his thighs. Along hundreds of ugly old and not-so-old wounds.

He grabbed her lantern from the side of the bed and snuffed it out, bathing them in darkness. Crow blinked as her eyes struggled to adjust.

She frowned. “You can’t do that.”

Instead of answering, he leaned down and flicked a tongue over her nipple. She gasped, her mouth dropping open to form a silent O. He licked again, bringing a hand to her other breast, and she made a soft, pleased sound. He felt her rush of desire spill over from her mind into his—building under his touch until it became a pulsing beat of desperate need that made it hard to think straight.

Her hands grasped at him, pulling at his arms and back as her legs twined around his ankles. He twitched as her nails scraped welts into his back. Abruptly he pulled back and grabbed both her wrists, holding them away from him.

“Don’t touch me.” The edge of danger in his voice surprised even him.

Crow stared up at him in surprise, probably only barely seeing him in the moonlight filtering through the window.

He loosened his grip on her wrists, but didn’t let go of them. There was some security in the illusion of control it gave him, even if he knew, logically, that she could empathize him into submission whenever she wished. Even if he knew she didn’t mean him harm, anyway.

Was this what the rest of his life was going to be like? Was he just broken?

“All right,” Crow said evenly.

He let go of her hands, and they dropped to the bed on either side of her head. She waited, unmoving—expecting him to continue, he realized.

The panic that had spiked when she’d grabbed him was slowly ebbing. “I’m sorry.”

She didn’t answer, but took his hand and placed it on her thigh.

Taking her cue, he dragged his fingertips over her. Her eyes closed as his fingers slipped between her legs. As he stroked through her slick folds, her hands curled into fists on the sheets, but she didn’t reach up to touch him again, Goddess bless her.

He slid a finger inside of her and quickly leaned down to catch her gasp with his mouth.

Her excitement was infectious. Their combined arousal was rapidly building again, almost too quickly for him to handle. The need to be inside her grew too powerful to resist any longer. He lowered his body against hers and slowly plunged into her.

He bowed his forehead against hers, luxuriating in the sensation of her body around his. Her hands lay in tight fists beside her head, clenching with each soft thrust.

“Gods,” she whispered, gasping as he sank deep into her. “I can’t—”

She’d been holding back, and he realized it only when the wave of unrestrained hunger and euphoria washed over him, drowning him. He felt her climax as if it were his own. He’d forgotten how intense it was, sharing their minds while they shared their bodies. The feeling rushed into him, sudden and unstoppable and overwhelming. There was no slowing it.

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