Page 8 of Queen of the Wildwood
“I cannot,” I choked out.
He stroked my cheek, the contact making my pulse quicken.
Foolishly, I leaned into his touch, starved for connection. Starved forhim. He was the dream I’d thought I’d never have. The dream that would probably never come so close to my grasp again.
There was a strange note in his voice when he spoke again. “I have wanted you for a very long time, my rose girl, and now you’re here, determined to sacrifice yourself away. I cannot say I don’t understand, but I also cannot say I don’t wish you’d change your mind. With you here, I find myself suddenly selfish. I would damn worlds to keep you at my side.”
I stared at him, unable to do anything more than nod.
His breath tickled my face, and his mouth hovered just above mine. “May I kiss you?”
I pressed against his solid body, suddenly alive with need and craving his touch.
When he ran his thumb over my bottom lip, a breathless sigh escaped my throat. His other hand parted the cloak and rode up my bare back. His lips met mine—warm, rough, and intoxicating. Better than the sweetest wines served during Mabon.
Instinctively, I responded to his kiss and caress, my passion mounting. From deep inside his chest, a groan rumbled and rose, escaping his throat like a low growl. His hand slid lower, moving over and then clenching my warm bottom.
The cloak fell open as his fingers undid the clasp, displaying my flesh. The sudden coolness made my nipples flare and his fingers trailed down my throat to stroke and cup those tender buds.
Wild with need, I spread my legs, pressing harder into him. A moan rolled out of my throat, and my hips moved as my fingers fumbled against his breeches, searching for flesh. His hardness, firm and pulsing in my hand sent a delicate shiver through my body.
“Aelbrin,” I whispered, unable to explain what I wanted.
Shifting his weight, he allowed me to straddle him. When his warm mouth closed over my nipple I panted, inviting his touch. Rolling my erect buds between his teeth, he sucked and pulled, biting gently and then not so gently at all. Setting my loins on fire. I threw back my head, clutching at him desperately as he twisted a hand through the waves of my hair, pulling me closer to him.
When he lifted his head, both of us breathing as though we’d raced through the forest, his eyes glazed over with an intense longing.
He met my gaze and studied me, naked in the moonlight. “Yula,” he whispered, his voice husky. “Are you sure?”
My thoughts flickered back to our first meeting, and I recalled the connection I had felt even then. This only seemed right, an inevitable conquest before the brutality of life ripped us apart.
I nodded, chewing my lower lip, almost ashamed of my nakedness. But the look in his eyes reassured me. His arms wrapped around my waist and pulled me tight against his chest, holding on as though for dear life. The longing in that embrace seeped through me and heat flared between my thighs.
“I need you,” I whispered, my lips close to his ear.
In one smooth motion, he carried me to the pallet where he lay me down, kissing my forehead, cheeks, and lips again and again. Shaking off the last of his clothes, he opened me to him, his fingers sending a ripple down my spine as though my skin were on fire.
He pressed hot, open-mouthed kisses to my neck, shoulders, and breasts as he worked his way down, making me hiss, desperate. I’d never felt such intense desire, such need before.
When he touched the delta between my legs, I dug my fingernails into his shoulders as though to anchor myself in the moment.
His fingers stroking, teasing. And then I felt his hardness. He hesitated, and I squirmed, arching my back, frantic. Gently, he slipped inside me, filling me to my core. I opened my legs further, and a delicious shiver went up my spine. He thrust, slowly at first and then harder, faster, his breath coming ragged as he made love to me.
I held on to him as my pleasure mounted. We were together, one soul, as he drove into me again and again. I felt as though I were careening, falling headlong.
And I never wanted it to end.
Chapter 5
Silver mist greeted us in the morning. Vague shapes appeared in the fog—fingers, the face of a lady, the form of a hulking orc, an overgrown wolf. The atmosphere was thick with animosity, and a darkness hovered over us. Something in the air reached out, seeking to take hold.
Aelbrin led the way, saying nothing about our intimate night of pleasure. He’d taken me again and again, as though that alone could stop time and our inevitable separation. Even now I sensed a deep sadness emitting from him.
My hair stuck to my back and my feet hummed with discomfort at each step, for the boots he’d given me were too large. The shirt I’d borrowed billowed out, adding to my discomfort. The pants slipped off my lean hips, forcing me to continually hoist them up. My limbs trembled as I stumbled uphill, slipping on moss, broken branches, and pine needles.
Aelbrin turned back often to assist me. When his hand touched mine, my skin went hot, and I willed myself to follow through with my decision. Once he led me to the Dark Queen, I hoped he’d flee, even though he believed he led me to my doom.
I pushed those dreadful thoughts away and flexed my fingers, forcing clarity into my mind. Practicing magic was dangerous when I was confused or distracted. I needed to concentrate. An unclear mind led to emotions overriding my control. I couldn’t let my rage balloon into devastation again.
