Page 50 of Godsbane
“Fuck,” he says against my lips. “You are perfect, Ivy.”
Heavy rain pounds on the window, casting the room in a dull light as magic barrels through me. He lifts my knee, angling himself until he hits the spot guaranteed to make me fall apart.As my pleasure builds, the grip on my power slips. If I don’t do something, the very walls could sprout flowers in seconds.
I mentally picture the clearing where we sparred earlier today. Casting my power out towards it, I imagine vines of ivy wrapping around the trunks of the trees. Magic erupts from my body as I orgasm around him. I scream out at the simultaneous release, the physical and the magical coalescing into a holy absolution.
Cal tightens inside me, thunder shaking the thin window pane as his own groans of pleasure fill the room. He holds me tight against him as we pant, riding out the final swells of bliss.
Cal places another, wholly different kiss on my lips. It isn’t rough or eager like before, but delicate and full of adoration. And, even though I don’t want to admit it out loud, I know deep down that we are both thoroughly ruined. Power warms my blood, relishing in the endorphins that flood my brain and aching to be used again.
“Do you feel that?” he whispers against my skin.
We have to talk about the magic we both possess, but I’m not broaching that subject while he’s still inside of me. I’ve taken lovers to bed before, but no one has stripped me of my control over my magic. Whatever I’m feeling in my veins right now, Cal clearly feels it too.
I nod, unable to form a sentence that feels appropriate for this moment. Unable to say anything without giving a voice to the one thing I don’t want to talk about. Whatever the gods have in store for us, I fear we have catapulted into an orbit not even they could stop.
Cal moves to grab a small towel from the bedside table, standing to his full height. In the dying light of the stormy evening, I take in all of him. From the broad expanse of his shoulders, to the rippling washboard of his abdomen, to thetattoo of a thick ivy vine that wraps around the top of his muscular thigh.
Without thinking, I reach out, tracing the ink with my fingers.That godsdamned tattoowas never the sea beast, was it? I look up to him, desperate for answers to the hundreds of questions that fill my head.
Cal motions for me to lay back, delicately cleaning my inner thighs with the thin cotton towel. He hesitates, clearly weighing how much to divulge in this moment.
“All of it,” I say. “Tell me all of it.”
“I have dreamed of a woman every night since I was ten years old. A woman who has hair the color of a newborn fawn.” He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear as he continues. “A woman of porcelain skin,” he says, dragging his knuckles across my cheekbones, “with a dusting of freckles and emerald green eyes.”
“Those aren’t uncommon features,” I deflect. “It could be a coincidence.”
“Coincidence?” Cal cups my face in his hands, forcing me to look fully into his stormy eyes. The rain outside intensifies as his words boom like thunder in our space. “The woman in my dreams has the power to make the earth tremble at her whim. Does that sound like coincidence to you?”
I swallow thickly at his admission. My fingers absently trace the tattooed vine again, gently grazing the crescent-shaped birthmark hidden within the largest leaf as I let his words sink in.
“Five years ago, I saw you in Amale protesting on the palace steps. I was buying a pastry from a cart when I heard your voice above the crowd. My heart recognized you immediately.”
“That’s when you got the tattoo?” I ask.
“No. I’ve had that for much longer.”
Cal’s thumb gently swipes away the tear that leaks from my eye against my will. He brings his forehead to rest against mine as if it’s always meant to be there.
“I’ve been waiting for you, Ivy.”
And I know, deep in my soul, that he’s telling the truth, even if I don’t want to believe him. I could grab my clothes and bolt out of the room right now and it wouldn’t make it any less true. This man, this fearsome and unexpectedly compassionate man, is mine.
And there’s a very real, very scary possibility that I might be his, too.
CHAPTER 19
The inn is quiet. For the first time since we arrived in Gathe, there’s no noise. No carts clamoring across cobblestones. No patrons singing or guests shouting. No intimate noises or thunderous rain storms. Nothing but the quiet, steady breathing of the man beside me.
The inky blue sky outside is starting to show hints of pinks and oranges. Dawn, and whatever the forgotten Goddess of Light brings with her, is not far away. In a few moments, we’ll have to leave the sanctuary of this bed and face the consequences of what we’ve said and done. We’ll have to discuss our magic and our nightmares—and how the latter seems to disappear when we sleep beside each other.
Delicate kisses trail across the back of my shoulders as Cal pulls me tighter against his bare chest.
“Don’t get up yet,” he pleads against my skin.
“I would stay, but there’s this infuriating captain who commands that we leave at dawn every day.”
“Oh him?” Cal’s lips trail up my neck. “He’d love nothing more than to spend all day in this bed following your commands.”
