Page 128 of Heart Cradle
Eiran moved closer, kneeling beside her, and pressed a gentle kiss to her temple. “I know.”
They sat like that for a moment, the only sound the lapping of water and their joined breaths. Then Eiran conjured something with a flick of his fingers, intention made tangible. A blanket, soft and thick, unfurled itself onto the sand behind them, and from the folds of his jacket, he withdrew a flask and a single cup.
Maeve raised an eyebrow.
“Not fae-fire, just fairly strong wine,” he said simply, opening the bottle and pouring it into the cup with a small flourish.
He handed her the drink and dropped beside her, pulling her against his side. They passed the cup between them, sharing quiet sips. The warmth of the wine spread slowly, making Maeve’s limbs feel heavier, softer.
She laid herself back onto the blanket, head tilted towards the sky. The stars above blinked, Orion, Cassiopeia and Ursa Major. Familiar strangers now and her chest ached. “My dad taught me every one of these,” she murmured. “I used to find comfort in them. But now they look… far away. Like I don’t belong to them anymore.”
Eiran didn’t answer with words. She just felt his warmth moving, a soft exhale and the slight rustle of magic. When she opened one eye andturned her head, she laughed. He lay beside her now, dressed in the same white cotton shirt and perfectly fitted blue jeans he’d worn the night they met. The same sleeves pushed up his forearms, the same few buttons undone, with the exact rogue grin.
“You absolute romantic bastard.” She said, eyes wet from laughter.
He grinned wider. “Had to, for the continuity, love.”
She reached for the wine again, took another sip, and held the cup between them. He accepted it, and without breaking eye contact, she whispered a single intention, and the clothes vanished from her body and Eiran almost choked.
“You wicked little seductress.” He growled, righting himself.
She smiled slow and dangerous, completely unbothered, utterly bare in the glow of the enchanted cove. He propped himself on one elbow, drinking her in with a gaze that turned reverent.
“My wicked seductress,” he murmured, voice rough and full of wonder.
His fingers trailed from her belly to her ribs, then upward, unhurried. When he reached her chin, he cupped it gently, lifting her face to his. The kiss that followed was no sweet whisper, it was full possession and claim. He tasted her like she belonged to no one else. He moved, down her body, mouth, hands and teeth, exploring, teasing and worshipping.
Eiran moved in slow, aching increments, he would not rush this. His lips left a trail from the base of her throat to the soft slope of her breast, pausing to pay respect with tongue and teeth, every motion designed to coax sound from her. She gasped when he grazed her nipple, and his groan met hers, low and rough against her skin.
“You undo me,” he murmured, voice husky. “And you know it.”
Maeve arched beneath him, eyes half-lidded, lips parted. “Wicked seductress.”
He kissed lower, across her ribs, over the curve of her hip. His hands gripped her thighs, firm but gentle, guiding her open.
“You wanted to seduce an innocent,” he said, voice thick with heat. “But you forgot, I was never innocent, certainly not with you. My mate.”
Maeve’s laugh caught in her throat as he dipped lower, and then she wasn’t laughing at all. His tongue flicked through her folds, slow andteasing, the first contact so feather-light she nearly sobbed the word, “mine.”
He hummed, pleased by her breathless tone, and did it again in long, lazy strokes, avoiding her clit with infuriating precision. He pulled back slightly, just enough to glance up at her flushed skin and trembling thighs.
“You don’t get to come that easily,” he said darkly. “Wicked, wicked thing.”
Her breath hitched. “You…”
“Don’t worry,” he murmured, pressing a kiss just above where she throbbed. “I’ll take my time.”
He returned to her with focused devotion, using lips, tongue, and fingers in concert. He built her slowly, deliberately, pulling her towards the edge only to back off with maddening control. Twice she whimpered, begging wordlessly, and twice he denied her.
By the third time, her nails dug into the blanket, her legs shaking. “Eiran, please.”
His voice, when it came, was rough and full of want. “That’s it, say it again.”
“Please,” she gasped. “Please, Eiran, let me.”
Only then did he give her everything, his mouth latched around her clit, sucking firm and sure as two fingers pressed deep inside her, curling into her. She shattered in seconds, her climax slamming through her like a crashing wave, body arching, thighs clenching around his head. He didn’t stop until she sagged into the sand, panting, eyes glazed, then he kissed her inner thigh, gently, and whispered, “My strong, ruthless mate.”
When he moved over her again, her fingers reached for him, undoing his shirt, tugging it down his arms, pressing her palms over his heart as she kissed his neck. He stripped out of his jeans in a blur of magic, groaning as her hands slid down his chest.
