Torrent of Tears (Scourge Survivor Series Book 3)(73)

While he settled, I started with a slow up and down. He shifted his hips and widened his knees. I took advantage of the space, cradling his weighted sac in my palm. He was flawless. Perfection, from his wide shoulders, to the sexy indents of his hips, to his long-muscled legs dappled with silky brown hair.

“You have the sweetest tongue,” he growled. I closed my eyes, absorbing every twinge and tightening of his muscles, every quake of pleasure, and every breath that tore from his lips. “You should have warned me, that being with you would steal my very sanity.”

I laughed and his hips jolted again. He had treated me with such exquisite care over the past hours, passionate but gentle, every moment about me, about my pleasure, about letting me take what I wanted. This morning, I wanted the same for him.

Strong hands squeezed my shoulders and tugged me upward. “Give me your mouth, wife,” he whispered pulling me up to his lips.

It took all my willpower to give up my hold on him, but this was his moment after all. Heat pounded through my veins as I ran my hands up his ribs. In one smooth motion, I straddled his hips and took him inside me. Both of us groaned as I sat back and he sank deep into my core.

“Kiss me, Lexi, before I lose my mind.”

Leaning forward, yielded to his request. With a thrust of his hips, he pushed in further and I caught myself with my palms on the mattress. A stinging pleasure lit off inside me and almost distracted me from my goal. “Oh, no, Doc. This one’s about you. Now behave.”

Our gaze locked just inches apart and he stared back at me. Rowan was power and tenderness, strength and reserve. He’d seen my best and my worst, and loved me anyway—maybe even loved me because of it.

His lips met mine with possession, his hands tightening in my hair. With every push and pull, I grew hotter. And so did he. Within moments, lightning was gathering in my core and I pulled back to focus.

His hips undulated in a slow rise and fall beneath me. Using the spasms of his muscles beneath my fingers as my guide, I rode him out, tormenting him when he came close, suspending his release. “The longer you burn, the more you’ll combust when the time comes.”

He chuckled and his erection surged inside of me. The sensation was wickedly peculiar. “You’re a cruel, cruel woman, you know that. But I love you.”

“I love you too.” Reality hit me then. What if this was our last time together? What if the guards came and killed us both . . . or worse, just him. Tears pooled.

“Don’t think about it, baby,” he whispered against my mouth. “Stay with me. Right here. Stay with me.” With a soft curse, he pulled me against his chest and rolled us over. Face-to-face, with his weight between my legs, he took control. As he stared down at me, his expression held an intense mixture of love, fear, strength, sadness. . . .

His eyes rolled closed and his pace picked up. The rhythmic shift of the bed grew louder. The friction of skin-on-skin grew hotter. His breath came in short, tight bursts and then as he pounded harder, faster, he stopped breathing altogether.

I moaned as the veins popped at the sides of his neck and he threw his head back. The cry of pleasure was like nothing I’d heard before and it filled me with such a sense of satisfaction that I was lost.

Release washed over the both of us. Not the earthquakes of the past hours. Not the sex with a purpose, desperate to hang on to each other when the time was fast approaching to tear us apart. No. This was languid, hot and luscious.

This was making love.

When it was over, I laid on my side looking at our candle and Rowan curled his massive body around me. After the blood bonding, we’d opted to do the candle tradition too. The two of us lit individual candles and used the flames to light a bigger, sturdier candle together.

Neither one of us had wanted to blow the thing out last night, so it burned on. His arm draped heavy over my side and his palm stroked my chest and settled against the mattress, cupping my breast. “What are you thinking, Trouble?”

I kissed the mound of his bicep where it rested under my cheek. “That you’re the first man to ever make love to me.”

“I am, am I?” His voice was breathless, but that didn’t hide his skepticism.

I frowned, wishing I could read his face. Without turning, I sensed him wanting to say something more, but hesitating. It was the same awkward tension that had come between us so many times before and it made me twitchy.

“I didn’t say you were my first in bed, just that you are the first to truly make love to me.”

He gave me a squeeze. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you. I’m . . . honored.”

The apology was worse than the doubt. “Forget I said anything.”

We laid there and suddenly, I was thankful to be facing the candle instead of him. I wanted to get up and head to the bathroom. I wanted to put my clothes back on because I was feeling waaay too naked.

He pulled me tighter as if he knew I was about to bolt. “I honestly didn’t mean to ruin what you said. I am honored. It’s just . . . I was in your bathroom when you tended to Tham. I saw the way you bathed him. You were so gentle and so familiar. You said you were just friends, but you loved him, I know you did. And the way he looked at you before he died . . . I just thought he would have been—” He sighed. “Never mind. It’s none of my business.”

I sat up, not sure if I was angry at Rowan or at the fact that Tham never got to have share himself with someone. “Don’t be stupid.”