Page 53 of Heart Cradle
“Fuck,” she whispered, barely breathing, and that was all he needed. He didn’t tease, didn’t wait. He slid into her in one long, claiming stroke, and her answering cry was desperate. Her heat wrapped around him like a vice, and he had to grit his teeth to keep from losing himself immediately. “You feel like you were made for me.” he rasped, leaning over her, chest brushing her back.
She whimpered in response, pressing back against him, the arch of her spine a silent invitation. He set a punishing rhythm, thrusting deep, every movement a vow he didn’t know how to say out loud. His hands roamed, grasping her hips and then sliding up to palm her breasts. He rolled her nipples between his fingers, loving the way she shuddered and moaned, but, he wanted more. He bent over her, lips grazing the shell of her ear. “Are you alright, love?” His voice was hoarse, full of restraint.
She turned her head just enough for him to see her eyes, blown wide and wild with need. “Yes, Eiran,” she breathed. “Just fuck me.”
His control shattered and he growled low in his throat and reached between her legs, the same fingers that had touched every part of her, then sliding into her mouth. She moaned around them, sucking hungrily, tongue swirling as if she craved the taste of her own pleasure and it undid him. “Come for me,” he whispered against her shoulder. “Come around me, love. Let me feel you break.”
He felt her tremble first, every muscle taut and straining, her cry swallowed by the bedding as she shook around him, her body pulsing and contracting, so warm, slick and tight that his own release tore through him with violent force. He buried himself deep, hips jerking as he spilled against her, breath ragged and heart pounding.
For a moment, the world was nothing but heat, sweat and the echo of their pleasure ringing through the stone walls. Then, gently he pulled her back against his chest, brushing her hair from her damp neck and pressing a kiss to her shoulder. “You’re everything,” he whispered into her skin. “My everything.”
Chapter Twenty-One – The Tower Trembled
Sometime in the soft blur between moonlight and morning, Maeve drifted in a cocoon of heat and sensation. Her limbs were heavy with exhaustion, her body aching in that blissful, sated way that only came after being loved thoroughly, again and again. She was warm, cradled in Eiran’s arms, his body curled around hers, one strong thigh slotted between hers, his chest against her back. The steady thrum of his breath ghosted across the back of her neck, his arm anchoring her close. It was as though even in sleep, he refused to let her go and she fell back into an unfamiliar slumber. Her dreams were strange. Vivid flashes of gold and green, of Xelaini’s vast dark wings sweeping across a sky painted in storm light and of the Chain glowing with molten colours at her wrist. She dreamt of Eiran, his eyes like poured sky, his voice whispering her name in a thousand ways, each one more desperate than the last.
She stirred with a soft gasp, waking fully when she felt the unmistakable press of his mouth between her thighs. “Eiran!” she breathed, voice rough with sleep, confusion and pleasure tangling in her chest.
His low rumble was the only answer, a deep sound, edged with desire, thick with something near-devotional. She lifted her head, heart pounding, and found his eyes already on her, glinting with heat and mischief from beneath dark lashes. “Good morning, love,” he murmured against her skin, his lips brushing the most sensitive part of her. “Didn’t want to wake you, but you taste like heaven when you dream.”
Eiran moved over her with the kind of ease that made her heart ache. No urgency, no command, just the just the slow, lingering touch of a man who hungered for more than flesh. His body was heavy and warm above hers, muscles flexing as he guided himself inside her once more. She gasped, arching up into him as he filled her completely.
“Still with me, love?” he asked, voice rough and honeyed with affection.
She curled her legs around his hips and pulled him closer. “Always.”
He rocked into her, slow and deep, his forehead pressed to hers, their breaths tangling. “I’m not sure I’ll ever stop wanting you,” hemurmured, kissing her cheek, her nose, the corner of her mouth. “Not in this life, or in the next.”
She smiled, heart stuttering. “That’s a lot of pressure for a woman who hasn’t even had her morning coffee.”
He huffed a laugh, biting gently at her jaw. “I’ll serve it to you in bed every day, if you let me do this first.”
“Hmm,” she said, squirming beneath him. “You’ve got a deal.”
His pace picked up slightly, rhythm syncing with the way her hips rose to meet him. “I love you,” he whispered. “Every part. Every glimmer, every shadow, every sharp edge you try to hide.”
Love.
He had said it again, she pushed that thought away as she laced her fingers at the back of his neck, her chest tightening at the truth of his words and she dismissed it saying, “You see too much.”
He kissed her, tender and deep. “Not enough, never enough of you.”
They moved together in perfect rhythm, hips sliding, hands gripping and hearts beating in synchrony. The pressure built slowly, winding tighter and tighter until the orgasm broke over them at the same time, white-hot and crashing, unyielding and utterly overwhelming, like lightning ripping through the tower. Maeve cried out beneath him, clutching him to her as Eiran groaned against her mouth, his hips stuttering. A second later, the entire tower shuddered, followed by a loud, irritated snort echoing outside the stone walls and he collapsed beside her, breathless laughter spilling from his chest. “Ugh, we’ve pushed our luck.”
Maeve, still catching her breath, blinked at the ceiling. “Did the building just…?”
“Xelaini,” he said, already grinning. “She requests an audience.”
Maeve groaned and pulled a pillow over her face. “Your dragon is going to eat me.”
Eiran stretched with a smug, post-orgasmic ease. “She may just want tea.”
Chapter Twenty-Two – Chainling
Eiran hastily pulled on his tunic, half-wrangling the laces as Maeve tossed him a pair of trousers. “You just told me you love me,” she said, tone airy and far too amused for the way her hands still trembled slightly from what they’d just shared.
He shot her a grin. “I did.”
“And?”
