Page 101 of The Source of Storms

I reached down and took his bearded jaw firmly in my grasp, lifting his chin to meet my gaze directly. “There is nothing to forgive.” My words were firm, but I fought the tremble that rose in my voice and my hand.

“Then let me earn you,” he answered. He tilted his head down and kissed my palm, a tingle of pleasure sliding up my arm at the touch.

He bowed his head again, kissing gently at the apex of my thighs, at the center of my desire already slick with longing for him. I moaned and gripped his dark brown hair in my hands. He took it as encouragement and flicked his tongue across me, slowly at first, then faster. I pushed my hips into him and his tongue licked across me in perfect rhythm, igniting me with pleasure with each stroke. My hips followed his movements, uncontrollable now. When I moaned, he growled back, his mouth full of me.

Too soon, he stopped, crawling back up to kiss me.

“Please,” I whispered.

“What do you want?” he breathed, an echo of that question he had asked me so long ago in the firelight of Litha.

What did I want? His cock. His body. His love. Every breath he drew, every ounce of strength in his muscles, every beat of his heart. I wanted the very marrow of his bones. I wanted him, wanted his faults, his memories, his past, his future. I wanted it all.

But all I could utter was, “Everything.”

“Everything you need, my Little Lamb. I will give you everything,” he said.

He turned me onto my stomach, pulled me back onto my hands and knees, then pushed himself into me again with a soft groan. I cried out with each thrust as the energy within my body built. He leaned over and reached around me, his skillful fingers finding just the right spot. I pushed back into him, moaning, meeting every thrust. He leaned down and kissed the back of my neck, wrapping an arm around me, holding me close against his body with one hand around my throat.

I rolled to face him as he pulled back, wrapping my legs around him and savoring the blissful fullness as he pushed into me again and I took all of him. I gripped his shoulders and moaned as his gaze met mine, wildness and greed in his eyes. He thrust faster, harder, interlacing his fingers with mine and pinning my hands down. He was animalistic, hungry, feral almost. His overwhelming need for me, the consuming desire to be deep inside me was palpable in every movement, every look, every breath. His yearning for me brought my own to a raging inferno. I was entranced by his desire, elated by his need to dominate me.

I moaned, louder and louder as I lost control of my own responses. I pushed back into him, meeting the intensity of his claim over me, matching the ferocity of his passion. I was desperate to feel him, to let him take me. Desperate for him to conquer me, hold me, know me. Desperate for him to drive all the pain, all the horror from me, as if I could be cleansed by his touch, his love. I wanted him and only him. He pulled me close and kissed my neck with deep hunger; I tipped my head back and arched into him. The world fell away around us until nothing existed but this moment and the feeling of him inside me.

Finally, release came. The great shuddering, crashing wave of my climax ripped through me. I arched into him and cried out, the pleasure tightening me around him, Byrgir keeping his pace as long wave after wave found me. Then he found his own release, slamming deep into me and groaning, filling me with a delicious intensity,one hand gripping my hip in place beneath him.

When, at last, the waves subsided, I pulled him in close. I felt the pounding of his heart through his muscled chest, felt the pounding of my own meeting it. We held each other, as close as physically possible, still joined, for what could have been ages.Eventually, he lifted his head and brushed my hair from my face. He kissed my lips gently.

“You are divine,” he said.

“Gods, I missed you,” I replied.

“I missed you nearly more than I could survive.”

He pulled me under the covers and I tucked myself beneath his arm. My head on his chest, I listened to his beautiful heart beating.

“I thought of you,” I murmured against his tattooed skin, exhaustion already dragging me under. “Every day, I pictured your face. I heard your voice, your laugh. You got me through it, Byrgir. Knowing you were waiting for me.”

“Halja?” His low, sweet voice pulled me from the liminal dreams between sleeping and wakefulness.

“Hmm?”

“I have always loved you. I will love you until my last breath. I will fight for you with every ounce of strength I have.”

In that moment, in his arms, I felt the closest to whole I had felt in my lifetime. The contradictory, split parts of me were balanced at last.

“I love you, Byrgir. With every piece of my being until the day I die.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Autumn rain turned thick with slush continued to patter against the windows as I drifted to sleep in Byrgir’s arms. I did not wake when he rose to close the curtains, or when he left the room sometime in the morning.

The voice was quiet and sinister in its return. My unconscious was black fog and drifting, unintelligible whispers. And still, the voice. Distant, less oppressive and domineering than before. But still there. The worst part was, I couldn’t tell if he was with me, or if it was just a memory of him reverberating in my tortured mind. A dull panic blossomed in the back of my skull, and I fought down a familiar nausea as I opened my eyes.

The usual mists of Rhyanaes drowned the sun’s rays, although it was bright outside. Bright enough that the sun had nearly burned the fog away, which meant it was probably around noon. But I was here, home, safe in this luxurious bed.

I opened my closet, eager to dress in my own clothes at last. There was the deep blue dress I’d purchased with El on my first tour of Rhyanaes with her. Hanging next to it was the sleek blue dress with strings of pearls dangling across the open back that El had convinced me to try on in the shop that same day. And next to that hung a black dress I had never seen before.

I pulled it from the closet and tried it on out of curiosity. The back was low, the small straps hanging off my shoulders, and a deep split ran down the center of the structured bodice. Two long leg slits ended high on my hips. It glistened a deadly,shimmering black, reflecting light like the darkest obsidian. I had never worn anything that made me feel so sexy, or so powerful. It fit a little large with all the muscle I had lost, but El had clearly ordered it to my measurements. Even while I was imprisoned, she had prepared gifts for my return, so certain that I would be in this home of ours again.

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