Page 114 of Yearning For Her

Still, the ground continued its approach, which was much faster than she cared for.

“Kian!”

“Fuck, I love it when you cry out my name.” He gripped her hair, crushed his lips to hers, and swallowed her fear with a kiss. His wings flared, sparkling in the moonlight.

Gravity tore at Willow as his wings caught the air, countering their freefall. Kian twirled her around as he kissed her, until, finally, they were upright and hovering.

When he lifted his head, any words Willow might have said died in her throat.

His half-lidded eyes were fixed on her. Though the passion and hunger they always bore were still present, something different defined their glow now, something that made her almost feel his gaze like a physical caress—reverence.

How was it possible for one look to make her feel so much? For one look to communicate the unfathomable depths of his love for her, to make her feel like the most beautiful, most cherished, most precious thing in all existence?

No words needed to be said.

Willow pressed her lips to his in a tender kiss and nestled her head against his neck. He rested his cheek on her hair, lazily massaging her scalp with his fingers, and held her more firmly. With their bodies and souls connected, they soared beneath a sea of stars.

Thirty-One

Moonlight streamed in through the window and fell across the bed. Though he could see well enough in the dark, Kian appreciated that silvery luminescence. It made Willow’s pale skin and purple hair ethereally radiant against the black and crimson of his bedding. And with her features relaxed in the serenity of sleep…

She looked like a moon goddess. His moon goddess.

He smiled. He’d smiled so much tonight that his cheeks hurt, but it was the sweetest discomfort.

Kian sat atop his bed with his back against the headboard and his legs stretched out. Willow lay beside him, her head resting on his abs and her hand on his stomach. She’d curled up against him, one leg bent over both of his, with all but her head and one arm snug under the blanket.

He smoothed a hand over her damp hair, gently catching a strand and winding it around his finger. Her warm breath flowed over his skin, feeding directly into the warmth in his heart.

“My sweet mate,” he whispered. “All mine.”

His awareness of her had been amplified beyond his imaginings. Her emotions—her contentment and love—flowed into him unimpeded, combining with his to become wider, deeper, and impossibly more potent. He felt the steady beating of her heart as clearly as he felt his own. He and Willow were all but one.

Kian brushed his other hand back and forth along her forearm. She didn’t stir. Her sleep was deep, restful, and well deserved. Tonight, she’d gone from carefree joy to heartache, from heartache to the bliss of love and the awe of a completed bond. She’d been exhausted even before he’d carried her into the heavens and sealed his claim.

Barely holding in a chuckle, he swept a loose lock of hair off her cheek, tucking it behind her rounded ear.

When they’d landed on the balcony, Willow had told Kian that while their flight had been the most amazing, memorable, and powerful experience of her life, she was glad to have her feet on solid ground again.

After Kian had let her go, she hadn’t managed to walk a single step before her knees buckled, and she would’ve fallen had he not been there to catch her. Yet Willow had laughed in his arms. She might’ve been blushing, but her skin had been so delightfully flushed from their lovemaking that he couldn’t tell.

She’d joked that her body just needed a minute to readjust to the existence of gravity, but Kian hadn’t waited. He didn’t need an excuse to gather her in his arms, but he was unwilling to forgo an opportunity. He’d cradled her against his chest and carried her across the threshold.

That first step into his apartment after bonding with her had been profound. The place had suddenly felt more welcoming, less hollow. And the fullness of what they’d shared, of what they’d done, had washed over him.

Their lives would never be the same, and he never wanted to go back.

Willow stirred, hugging him tighter, sliding her leg a little higher, and nuzzling her cheek against him. He curled his fingers around her arm and drew in a deep breath. The feel of her soft, smooth skin against his was a thrill without equal.

Somehow, he’d restrained himself in the shower. She’d needed rest more than anything, so Kian had tenderly washed her delectable body and massaged away the tension and aches from her muscles. He’d dried her with the biggest, fluffiest towel he owned afterward. Her soft, pleased moans throughout certainly hadn’t made his resistance easier, but he’d persevered.

Kian was…complete. For the first time in his life, there was no hole to fill, no void to feed. For the first time, he was wholly at peace. The joy he felt, the love, the sense of belonging, it wasn’t secondhand. It was his.

It was theirs.

He traced the shell of her ear with the back of a claw and caught his lip with a fang. Heat swirled at his core, and he felt its mirror inside his mate. Even in her slumber, her desire for him had not diminished.

And though he was nearly full to bursting, his yearning for her had only grown.

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