Page 35 of Heart Cradle
He let out a sound, half laugh, half sob, his jaw tight, like he was holding something back. “You think I’m perfect?” he said, voice rough, barely more than a growl. “Love… look at you.”
His hands stayed at his sides, fists clenched. “You’re standing there like a fucking vision. Flushed, all curves and fire, and you don’t even see it. You don’t even know.” His breath hitched. “You’re going to wreck me.”
Maeve just watched him.
“I’m trying so fucking hard to be gentle,” he whispered. “But you’re making it impossible.”
Her heart pounded and she wanted to burn with him. She shifted, just a little. The water curled around her legs, heat rising as she leaned towards him.
“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” she said suddenly, the words spilling before she could weigh them. “I feel like I’m... not myself. Like something’s taken over.”
Eiran’s brow furrowed, but he didn’t retreat. “What do you mean?”
She swallowed, eyes flicking to the side. “The pull of the bond. It’s like it’s in my skin, in my bones. I can’t tell the difference between what I want and what it wants, and after everything… I’ve had two bathroom breakdowns in as many weeks and now I’m…” She trailed off, voice cracking.
“Maeve,” he said gently. “Look at me.”
She did. His hands didn’t move, his eyes didn’t stray from hers. “I don’t want anything from you that you don’t give freely,” he said. “I mean that.”
She nodded, as she said quietly, “I do want this. You. I just... don’t know if I can trust myself.”
Eiran’s expression softened, his voice barely audible. “Then let me take care of you, and if it becomes too much, anything, you tell me. You pull away. You don’t owe me anything.”
Something in her eased. Not the heat or ache, but the panic, the sharp edge dulled to almost nothing and she nodded steadier this time.
“I trust you,” she whispered.
He moved carefully, closing the space between them. He reached for her hand, fingers lacing gently through hers. “Sit up on the ledge,” he murmured. “Just for a moment. Let me see you, all of you. Please.”
Maeve drew a breath, trembling slightly as she lifted herself from the bath and perched on the stone lip. Water still running in rivulets down her skin, catching the light along her thighs, stomach and breasts. She didn’t pose, she didn’t know how, she just sat, open, aching and waiting. Palms flat behind her as her heart hammered in her chest. Eiran stepped forwards, water lapping at his thighs. He didn’t reach for her, just looked like someone standing before something holy.
“Do you have any idea what you do to me?” he asked, voice raw.
Maeve shook her head. She couldn’t speak, every word had dried in her throat.
“I’m ruined, love. Absolutely fucking ruined.”
Maeve held his gaze, then finally said, “I need you.”
Not seduction, but a confession. He exhaled through his nose, hands rising slowly, one settling at her knee, the other skimming up her thigh, stopping just short of her centre.
“I’ll take care of you,” he said. “You don’t have to perform, you don’t have to prove anything.”
Then, still watching her, he bent forwards and kissed the bend of her knee and waited for her word, always waiting for her lead.
Maeve slid a hand into his hair, fingers threading through the dark strands, guiding him closer. His eyes darkened, but he didn’t rush. He kissed a trail from the inside of her knee to the soft skin of her inner thigh. His hands steadied her, one at her hip, the other at her calf. Then his mouth found her and she gasped, back arching, the heat of him sudden and consuming. His tongue moved with deliberate care, slow strokes at first, he was savouring her.
Maeve’s hand tightened in his hair. “Eiran…”
She wasn’t used to this, being the one calling the shots. Being worshipped, but shit, she liked it. It healed something, claimed something back. He moaned into her, the vibration making her hips twitch. His tongue circled her clit, slow and aching, then flattened with firmer pressure. He alternated with exquisite precision, pressure and softness. It was pure devotion and hunger for his mate. When she whimpered, he pulled back just far enough to murmur, “I could spend hours here.”
“You might need to,” she breathed, legs trembling. “I’m not stopping you.”
He groaned and dove back in, driven now. Licking, sucking, worshipping her with his mouth. Maeve’s thighs clamped around his shoulders, her hands gripping the stone behind her.
But then, she stilled him with a hand at his temple, he stopped immediately, eyes rising.
“If we do this,” she asked, voice steady, “if we go all the way… does it seal the bond?”
