Page 78 of The Witch's Spell
IT’S A LONG WALK TO Alden’s hot spring, but I don’t mind. The forest is cold but lit with golden sunlight, and the fog is nowhere to be found. Everything feels right again. And now that things are back to normal, I want to enjoy some quiet time with Alden—it’s been much too long since he and I had some privacy, given how crazy Brookside is these days.
We’re almost to the spring when my feet start to ache fiercely. But Alden just sweeps me into his arms, and we both laugh as he crunches through the snow toward his secret spot.
The air warms as we approach, and there’s a slight scent of sulfur the closer we get to the spring. I can’t wait to tear my boots off and submerge my feet in the water. I almost groan at the very thought of it.
“Here we are, little witch,” Alden says as we emerge from the trees and discover the hot spring surrounded by still-green plants kept safe from winter’s chill.
He sets me on my feet, then stoops to unlace my boots and pull them off, followed quickly by the woolen stockings I’m wearing to ward off the chill. When my bare toes touch the earth, I shiver—both from the cold and from the burst of earth energy that shoots into my feet and calves.
I’ve missed you, I think.
Once spring arrives, I’ll be barefoot again, the way I prefer. And my child will be here by then as well. The very thought makes my stomach flutter, and the baby moves, as if responding to my excitement to meet them.
Alden pulls his boots off as well and rolls up his pant legs, then unclasps his cloak from about his neck and lays it on the ground. Taking my hand, he helps me sit down, and then we both let out a sigh as we sink our feet into the water.
“Why don’t we do this more often?” I ask, leaning back on my palms and tipping my face to the light blue sky peeking through the pines and bare aspens overhead.
“Oh, I don’t know.” Alden shrugs and reaches up to scratch his beard. “Maybe because of grumpy wolf shifters and fairies with secret identities and fog that makes you think you’re going crazy.” He looks down at me, a smile pulling on his mouth. “Think next year will be this wild?”
Letting out a breath, I put a hand on my belly. The baby is still moving. “Guess we’ll just have to find out together.”
I reach for Alden’s hand and slide it onto my stomach. He goes very still, and when the baby moves beneath his palm, his face lights up. And looking at him, and remembering the pride on his face when he showed me the finished cradle, I’msuddenly overcome with the desire to carry his child as well, to give him what I will very soon be giving Rowan.
“Alden?” I whisper.
“Hmm?” He still has his hand on my stomach, slightly distracted by the movement happening beneath his touch.
“Would you ever... want to be a father?”
Now his dark gaze flicks up. He blinks once. Then again.
Finally, he says, “I... I would. If the timing felt right, I’d like to be a father. I think I’d... Well, I think I’d be good at it. Maybe.” He shrugs, cheeks going slightly pink as he starts to pull away.
But I reach out before he can, one hand finding his face. “I think you would too,” I whisper.
Then I kiss him. And it feels so good. It reminds me of this past spring, when Alden pressed my back against the earth and made love to me in this very hot spring, his hands on my body and his mouth on my skin.
And I suddenly want him again.Needto have him again.
Alden lets out a small surprised breath as I pull my feet from the water and climb into his lap. But he doesn’t resist. Rather, his hands find my bare thighs beneath my thick winter dress, his fingertips tracing my skin. At the same time, I reach for the cord on his simple cotton pants, fumbling a bit since I refuse to break our kiss.
Finally, the cord comes free, and I wiggle the fabric down, giggling a bit at my struggle, until Alden’s cock can leap free. He’s already hard for me, and I’m already wet for him.
I reach out to touch him, my fingers sliding along his silky skin.
“Are you sure?” he whispers against my lips.
As my belly has gotten bigger, Alden has become more nervous about making love to me. He’s afraid he’s going to hurt me—or the child—but I asked Niamh about it months ago, and she assured me it’s perfectly safe. It’s been a bit harder to convince Alden of that though. He has to be reminded every time that it’s just fine.
“Yes,” I say, rising onto my knees and reaching down to guide his head to my opening. “How many times do I have to tell you, Mr. Stonewood?” I catch his lips again and can feel him smile against my mouth, his beard tickling my skin.
“At least one time more, Ms. Silvermoon.”
His cock slides into me, but it’s so large I have to take him slowly, warming up and stretching around him one delicious inch at a time. His hands explore my thighs beneath my dress, then wrap around to grip my ass cheeks, squeezing them firmly. I let out a little breath when he grips them hard, and in response, I get wetter. At long last, he slides all the way in, and I sink onto his warm lap with a sigh.
With him inside me, I readjust, moving carefully so as not to hurt either of us. I get my legs wrapped around him, ankles locking at his low back, and his arms support me, just like they always have—just like they always will.
Our movements are slow and deep. He moves inside me with tantalizing patience, in no rush to get to the end.
