Song of Blood & Stone (Earthsinger Chronicles #1)(45)

Their pelvises met, and she curled her legs tight around his waist.

“Are you all right?” he whispered.

She kissed him in response. “What happens now?”

“Now I start moving, but I want to be sure not to hurt you.”

She wriggled against him, delighted by the fullness of his invasion of her body. Jack grimaced, the tension of not moving evident in the veins bulging in his forehead and neck.

“You’re not hurting me,” she said and kissed him again. He slid out of her a bit then plunged back in, then did it again with a gentle movement, a rocking in and out of her, creating a sweet friction between them. She raised her hips to meet his strokes, and when their pelvises met again, the impact roused the little nub at the top of her mound. Jasminda gasped.

Jack voiced unintelligible, impassioned sounds, as well, his arms straining as he kept the majority of his weight off her. Their dual rhythms harmonized as they moved together.

She ran her hands down his back and even lower, squeezing each cheek of his buttocks in time with his strokes, wanting to push him even deeper inside her, wanting to hold all of him with her body. When he sped up his pace, she matched him, and the wave built up again. It rose, rose, rose, until she didn’t think anything could ever be better.

Then it broke, a dam shattering, and she came completely apart, nothing but pleasure rushing through her unbridled. She screamed but wasn’t aware of it until the rawness in her throat brought her back to reality and the crest that felt like it had lasted a lifetime slowly faded away.

Her breath came in short bursts, and Jack, on top of her, was doing little better. His face was flushed and sweat dripped from his hair down to his chin. He gave her a look of pure tenderness and peppered her face with more kisses. He remained inside of her, still pleasant, even as his swell reduced. When he moved to get off her, she clutched him to her more firmly.

“No, not yet.”

He rolled them onto their sides, still intertwined, still one. Jasminda wiped the sweat from his brow and kissed him everywhere she could reach.

“Jack.”

“Yes, my darling?” he said, breathless.

“Just . . . Jack,” she said and smiled. He brought her even closer, kissing her until they both had to stop to catch their breaths again. She locked her legs tighter around him, determined to imprint this moment not just in her memory but into her skin, her bones, her soul, and her Song. When she left, it would be all she had to remember him by.




“It may be easier if . . .” Jack trailed off. Jasminda lifted her head from his chest, not liking the tone of his voice. Somewhere, a clock struck midnight.

“If what?”

He stroked a hand across her jaw. “I don’t want them to make your life here miserable. There will be questions, speculation . . . gossip.” Worried eyes searched her face.

The tiny light that had flickered to life in the center of her chest after their lovemaking faltered. But she’d known. When he’d showed up at her door she’d known. When she’d let him in, and when she’d chosen to go down this path, she knew where it would lead and where it would not.

“So what would be easier?” The question fell from her lips on a whisper. She must not have done enough to mask her feelings for he pulled her closer, tightening his grip around her and pressing her into his chest.

“If we remain discreet.” His voice wavered. That tiny wobble stole the strength from her growing hurt. It was not exactly a rejection, but the reality was clear. He could never truly be hers.

She remembered the feeling of the vision in the cave, the girl whose eyes she’d looked through. That girl had lost herself when she’d been chosen as a sacrifice. She’d belonged to the people, as did Jack, and the people were fickle masters.

“You are right,” she said to his chest, then pressed a kiss there to show she bore no ill will about the state of affairs. She did not. If her heart broke the tiniest bit, it was only because she had allowed it to grow weak and sentimental. That would never do.

She sat up, pulling herself out of the cage of safety his arms provided. “This is no one’s business but ours. We don’t ever have to speak of it again, if you’d prefer.”

“No, that’s not what I . . .” He reached for her and she pulled away, turning to sit on the edge of the bed with her back to him.

“You should probably go. You will be missed if you leave it until morning.” She wished she had something to cover herself with. There were robes in the great wardrobe hulking in the corner of the room. She’d peeked in it earlier. All she had to do was walk over there and retrieve one, but she did not trust her shaky legs.

Tears formed in the corners of her eyes, but she pushed them back. She tried to force that same will into her legs to push her to stand, but just as she thought she’d found the strength, nimble hands enfolded her waist, sliding her across the bed. Jack turned her over until she was on her back with him straddling her, his face inches from her own.

He kissed her. She closed her eyes involuntarily and lost herself in it. Even if by some miracle she found someone to kiss again, it would never be like this.

“If you want me to tell the world I will,” he said. “I will call for a press conference on the steps of the palace and shout your name from every roof and balcony.” He placed kisses down her jaw and neck, pausing to nuzzle the crook of her neck and inhale deeply.