Page 84 of Assassin's Mercy

At first, all she could do was gasp his name and writhe beneath his hands, although at last she managed a strangled, “More.”

“As you wish.” His lips moved from her breasts, following the path his hands had taken down her stomach, to her hips, then down to her thighs, where he lingered for an eternity, laving his tongue against the soft skin there, making her cry his name again and again, begging him, until at last, at last his tongue flickered against her pearl and she truly lost the ability to think of anything but his touch.

His dark head bobbed between her legs as he lapped at her, using his fingers and his tongue with a skill she’d never have guessed from his gentle nature. And through it all, his desire for her filled her mind, merged with her own pleasure at their joining, overwhelming her in the best possible way. He delighted in being between her thighs, in tasting her, feeling her soft heat, her slickness; her own pleasure spiraled up and up, tighter and tighter, gripping her heart and mind and body, until she found her release with a cry.

Gasping, all Verve could do was stare at the barn’s rafters without really seeing them. Her mind was at once blank and filled with Alem’s desire — and his delight at her pleasure. He drew away, swiping the back of his hand over his mouth, and came to her side once more, lying his long body next to hers. His hardness brushed her thigh, but he seemed to be in no hurry to sate his own lust as he stroked her cheek while she caught her breath.

“If I didn’t know better,” he said, touching his nose to hers, “I’d say you enjoyed that.”

Her heart soared and she laughed. “What gave it away?”

He nuzzled her neck, making her squeal. “You’ve got a few tells.”

She pulled him in for another kiss and tasted herself on his tongue. Desire flared within her once more, not only an echo of his. “Like what?”

But she didn’t let him answer, only kissed him again. His desire leaped, stronger, insistent, and this time she let her fingers explore his skin, dipping below his waist to brush against his length. He hissed in pleasure and moaned her name, and her vision swam with their shared desire. He found his release with her name on his lips, and nothing had ever sounded half as sweet.

I love you, her heart sang, but she couldn’t form the words, couldn’t think much at all beyond the shared languages of touch and taste. She let him rest for a few minutes before stoking his fire once more, and then neither of them spoke at all for some time after. And outside, the storm raged on.

Later, they lay facing one another on her bed, listening to the rain drumming against the roof. Neither one had bothered to light a lamp, but a light shone against Alem’s face, showing his sleepy grin. “Your eyes are glowing again,” he murmured, stroking a finger down her hip. “Feels like I’m looking at the stars.”

She shivered at his touch. They were both utterly spent, but their emotions still twined together like woven threads. Alem’s contentment reflected her own.

There was no sign of Celidon or Jocasta, but Space-Between-Stars preened within her spirit. The Fae had not been an active participant in Verve and Alem’s lovemaking—they had not been present in her mind with enough clarity to sense any details—but they had ridden the waves of Verve’s delight and pleasure, and thus, Alem’s too. Now the Fae spirit drifted like a feather in the wind, pleased beyond measure.

It should have been (at the very least) creepy, but Verve only felt a warm buzz of contentment, a feeling that even the finest liquor could not recreate. She sighed, and the light shining on his face glowed brighter.

“Glowing eyes might make it hard to be stealthy,” she said sleepily.

A flash of alarm flitted through Alem’s spirit, but he said only, “Why do meridian eyes glow?”

“Didn’t your meridian grandpa tell you?” Verve asked.

“No, but I did ask.”

Alem shifted so he was on his back, and curled an arm around her. Verve leaned against his chest and pressed her ear against him, where she could hear the steady thud of his heart. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “I think it’s got something to do with the Fae magic they use. We use. Everything glows in the Fae realm.”

“So it’s true,” he breathed. “Meridians can enter the Fae realm. I heard rumors, but Milo never said outright. What was it like?”

Show him. It was no direction from anyone else, just an instinct; perhaps due to her connection with Space-Between-Stars.

So Verve closed her eyes and concentrated on the steady rhythm of Alem’s heart, a song echoed by the timpani of abating rainfall outside. Inhale. She reached through her spirit and found her connection to the Fae realm in all its shadowed, shining glory. Exhale. She sent the image to Alem, willing him to see.

His soft gasp made her eyes open. He stared at her, but his gaze was distant until he blinked slowly and shook his head. “Mara’s mercy… I never saw anything like that. I never could have imagined.”

She skimmed a hand over his chest again, savoring his warmth and the beat of his heat. “Me either.”

Contentment lulled her into sleep, soon, and the last thing she saw before her eyes closed was the moon, Atal, breaking through the clouds, shining glorious and full over the world.

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