War of Hearts(69)

Thea felt him nudge and then push and then thrust.

“Conall!” she cried out at the overwhelming feeling of fullness. Seeing his taut expression as he held himself above her, trying to give her time to adjust to him, Thea grasped his face in her hands. Her fingers lightly traced the scar on his face. It was a reflection of him, of the lengths he’d go to for the people he loved. A badge of honor. Thea couldn’t imagine him without it, her fierce warrior wolf.

And he was hers.

For tonight, he was Thea’s.

She launched off the bed, pulling him down to meet her lips, to wrap her arms around his shoulders. The movement drove him deeper, and they both groaned into each other’s mouths, before Conall pushed them back to the bed, his hands on her thighs to open her wider. As they kissed, a breathless catch of mouth against mouth, he powered into her over and over.

Thea traced her hands down his back, wanting to learn every inch of him, and delighted at the feel of his hard ass flexing with every thrust. She dug her fingers into his cheeks, wanting him deeper, harder.

“Fuck, Thea,” he grunted, his teeth clenched, his neck straining and his thrusts stuttering.

She understood when his hips jerked against hers and she felt him release inside her. Thea caressed his back as he pressed his forehead to her shoulder, trying to catch his breath.

It was wonderful. She was powerful. Needed. Wanted.

However, her own tension was unspent.

Conall began to press kisses along her shoulders, trailing his mouth up her neck to her lips. His kisses were slow, languorous … possessive. She wrapped her arms and legs around him and luxuriated in them. She didn’t want the touching to stop, the closeness to end.

And neither apparently did Conall.

She felt it when he was ready again and this time Thea took over. She pushed him to his ass so she could straddle him but grew rigid when his hands slid over the scars on her back.

Conall felt the change in her. “Does my scar bother you, Thea?” he asked, his voice hoarse with passion.

She immediately trailed her fingers down his scar, her eyes locked with his. “No. It’s part of what makes you, you.”

Something she didn’t understand darkened his expression, and he drew her closer. He trailed the tips of his fingers down the middle of her back, where the healed wounds made her skin uneven. She felt like she couldn’t breathe.

“This doesnae make you less beautiful, Thea. It makes you more. More of everything. More than any man, especially me, deserves in his hands,” he growled against her lips. “So fucking stunning wrapped around me. I couldnae care less if you were covered in scars. Your body is beautiful.” He slid one hand around her rib to cup her right breast. “But that’s not why I want you.”

Disbelief clouded Thea’s eyes. It was why men always wanted her.

He saw it and his gaze flashed in warning. “I’m not lying. We shouldnae be doing this. Both of us know that. And if you were just a beautiful woman, I wouldnae be here, doing what I know we shouldnae be doing. But you’re not just a beautiful woman, are you? And I know I’m not just a warm body for you.”

No, he wasn’t.

But she didn’t want to think about that. She didn’t want to think, period.

Thea kissed him, wrapping her arms tight around his shoulders, flexing her hips as he tangled his fingers through her wet, dark hair and returned her kiss for desperate kiss. She began to ride him, hard, soaring toward another climax at the thick glide of him inside her and the pleasure suffusing his face.

They both knew this couldn’t last, whatever madness this was between them, so they would take and take and take tonight until there was nothing left to give in the morning.

As Thea reveled in their passion, climbing upward to a bliss unlike anything she’d ever experienced, she wasn’t cognizant of the static filling the air. She was aware only of Conall beneath her, the feel of his hard abs under her exploring fingertips, his teeth flashing with a hungry snarl, his fingers biting into her hips as he flexed his own upwards in impressive thrusts. She had no idea her eyes had bled gold. That her energy emanated out into the room. So when she reached orgasm, ecstasy more than she’d ever hoped to experience, it was any wonder every light in the room exploded, shrouding them in darkness.

Thea gasped and Conall wrapped his arms tight around her, rolling her onto her back. He didn’t seem to care she’d caused a blackout as he continued to move inside her, murmuring how much he needed her, how much he wanted her as he chased his own release and came with a ragged shout in her ear.





The morning came and still they wanted.

Thea wondered if human women felt sore after a full night of lovemaking. She didn’t feel sore because, “Hello, magical healing powers,” but she tingled between the legs with the knowledge that Conall had spent most of the night buried in her.

They’d woken up that morning with a silent understanding between them. There was no mention of a change of plans, that Thea wouldn’t have to go to Ashforth. They both knew that was impossible if they wanted to save Callie.

However, they also both awoke still wanting each other, still wanting the connection, and seemed to come to the wordless agreement it was okay to indulge in that need until their time together was over.

They showered together, which was a new experience for Thea. It was wonderful to be petted and explored and washed clean by Conall. They shared wry looks at the broken bulbs in the room and Conall made a crack about the damage charge on his credit card. Thea thought he looked kind of smug that he’d managed to make her lose control like that.