Page 69 of Moonmarked

“Scream for me, wildling,” he whispered. I only had a second to understand his words before he moved.

And, boy, did I scream.

Rune moved fast, like he’d been holding himself back a lifetime, and now he was done waiting. His hands remained on my hips and he held me in place as he pounded into me, reaching new depths with every thrust, somehow giving memore.

It was raw. It was violent. It was everything he promised. He felt better than ever before, and he looked fucking divine any time my eyes weren’t rolling in my skull, and I could look at him. Skin slick with sweat, a silver hue falling over him like a veil from the light of the bird flying over us still. His hair on his face, bouncing witheach thrust. Eyes bloodshot,burningevery inch of me he looked at, lips parted as he sometimes moaned, sometimes whispered my name.

I held onto his forearms with all my strength, legs wide open and in the air, taking every inch he gave me as he thrust with such strength he moved both me and the table farther and farther back.

The second orgasm was twice as powerful, and when Rune felt me squeezing around him, locking down my body tightly, he stayed inside me, rose on his tiptoes, gave me all his delicious length until I was out of this world for real.

He whispered praise under his breath, leaned over me and trailed kisses on my jawline, told me how good I looked and how incredible I felt when I came on his cock.

Then he grabbed me by the neck, stayed there with his chest pressed to mine, and kept his word—fucked me until every inch of my body turned to jelly.

By the time he came, I could barely even hold onto his shoulders anymore and my eyes remained closed. I felt him inside me, and my name on his lips when he came was the most beautiful sound I would ever hear.

Rune still had strength left in him, though. He only took a moment to lay over me, keep those lips pressed to my cheek as he breathed deeply, and gave his heartbeat a moment to slow down.

Then he stood up, his arms around me—always—and lifted me up. My feet didn’t even touch the floor before he swooped up my legs. The bird made of light led the way down a corridor, away from the faint hint of the orange light, away from the sound of crackling fire.

A door opened, then closed, and the air was cooler in here, but Rune had me in his arms, so I wasn’t complaining. He moved with such ease you’d think I really was a part ofhim and laid us down somewhere soft—a mattress covered in linen that smelled slightly of vanilla, and a lot like Rune.

Heaven is real,I thought, because Rune was lying next to me. He put a cover over my body, too, before he pulled me closer, cocooned me in his arms.

My eyes were closed and there was a smile on my face, and all the worlds in the universe, however many there may be, wereright.

We were definitelyin Rune’s bedroom, and though I’d never actually thought about what his room might look like, it wasexactlylike him.

It was just slightly bigger than my own room back home and it suited him. The stone walls were bare except for a few weapons hanging within easy reach—blades of every shape and size, round ones, and others that looked like triangles. I couldn’t for the life of me even imagine what one would use them for.

The bed we lay on was tucked against one wall, its frame made of beautifully carved dark wood, the soft sheets a charcoal gray. There was no art, no trophies, nothing extravagant. Just a heavy-looking oak chest at the foot of the bed and a small table cluttered with odd things—sharpening stones, old leather-bound books, and a handful of broken trinkets that looked a hundred years old.

Despite the starkness, the room didn’t feel cold at all. It felt lived-in.Personal.

A black cloak hung from a rusty hook near the door, and the window near it was small, closed. There was a fireplace opposite it with no fire in it, but it wasn’t cold under thesecovers, wrapped up in Rune. It was actually the perfect temperature.

This was definitely not the kind of room meant for visitors. It was the kind of room meant for a man who slept with a knife under his pillow, and I was willing to bet a good deal that if I searched this bed right now, I’d find at least a few.

Rune lay behind me, his body spooning mine, his arms wrapped around me so that I had no clue where I ended and where he began. My head was on his biceps, and a smile was still on my lips. The colors of the world were much more vivid to my eyes, even though the only light in the room came from the bird sitting at the edge of that table, wings folded and head lowered like he was indeed real—and taking a nap. He was so beautiful my heart ached. He was all mine.

Just like the man lying behind me.

Lazily, I turned on my back to see his face—I’d been curious about his room a moment ago, but now I just wanted to continue to look at him for the rest of eternity.Pretty please, may I?I asked the stars, and in my ear I heard their whisper,yes, yes, you may.

And maybe I was just making it all up—but who cared?

Rune’s eyes were closed, his breathing even, his hair pushed back by yours truly, and so I saw every detail of his beautiful face. I touched him with my fingertips, trailed the white outline of his lips, the bridge of his nose, the tips of his lashes.

My God, he really was perfect.

I leaned in and kissed the tip of his nose. His eyes opened lazily, and he smiled—a smile just for me.

All fae were beautiful beyond a doubt. All of them looked drawn, unreal, but Rune was different. One look athim and you could see he’d gone through some shit. Most importantly, you could see that he’d overcomeallthat life had thrown his way, and he was ready for the next round. That’s what set him apart. He was real, he was grounded, and he was fuckingviciousin his calm.

Or maybe I was justthatinfatuated with him.

“Are you really here?” he said, barely moving his lips, like he didn’t even notice he was speaking at all.

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