He stands and lowers the jar of wine to the table. “Change of plans.”
“What?” I turn around, drying my hands with a cloth.
“I’m no longer in the mood to sleep.” He glances between the table and the bed. “Which do you prefer? The table or bed?”
“You need to rest.”
“Table, then.” Before I have time to protest, he swoops me into his arms.
I gasp and press my hands against his chest. “Hector, you’re going to tear your stitches.”
“I don’t care.” He carries me to the table and sets me on the edge.
A mischievous glint sparks in his eyes as he leans closer and whispers near my ear. “You know, wife, it has been far too long since we have indulged in some fun.” He runs his hand up my thigh, sending shivers down my spine.
I can’t help but laugh. “What kind of fun do you have in mind, husband?”
“Lift your surcoat,” he says, his voice a husky rasp. “And I’ll show you.”
I take a deep breath. This is what he wants, and I won’t deny him. I gather the hem of my surcoat and raise it to my waist, exposing my legs and the soft curls between them.
A vein throbs in his forehead as he trails his heated gaze over me. “Hades. You’re not wearing any undergarments.”
“I am washing them,” I admit.
Hector groans and grips the edges of the table. “You’re trying to kill me, woman.”
He leans down and presses his lips to the inside of my thigh, sending a jolt up my spine. My fingers dig into his hair as he trails kisses toward my core. He buries his face between my legs, and I gasp, my back arching off the table as his tongue flicks over me.
“Hector.” My hands tangle in his hair as he continues to pleasure me. The sensation builds until I can’t think, can’t breathe.
I let out a guttural moan as his tongue circles the area that burns. I buck against him, wanting more, longing for more, needing that sweet release.
He trails his fingers up my legs and wraps them around my hips, ensuring I remain still as he drives me toward my summit. Painfully, tantalizingly, slowly, he steers me closer and closer until he takes me over that wondrous edge.
I exhale and allow my eyes to flutter shut. It’s perfection.
The gods help me. This man brings me to a place nobody has ever taken me before. There’s freedom there. And there are no tribes or hatred. There’s nothing but him and the things he does to my body.
He stands and yanks off his pants. I wrap my legs around his waist as he slides inside me.He moves slowly at first as I adjust to his size.
My body flares with pleasure as we become one—a perfect union of husband and wife. Affection and passion. He knows what to do and how to move to make every kiss, every lick, and every thrust count.
His breathing grows ragged, as does mine. It’s like we can’t get close to one another without wanting more.
“You’re killing me,” he breathes as he slams into my body one last time. He locks my hips against his and we stay like that, panting and trembling.
We remain in each other’s arms for a few more moments before he untangles himself from me and helps me from the table. I fix my clothing in silence, and I’m struck by the peacefulness of the moment. No words need to be said. Our actions have said more for us than anything could.
We may not agree about everything, but we’re bound by something powerful. Something even I don’t fully understand.
Maybe it’s the binding tattoo. Or maybe it’s just Fate.
ChapterFifty
Some mornings, when I require more than a walk in the courtyards, I stroll through the city with my guards. I relish the open air and the bustle of activity around me. It distracts me from my thoughts.
On this morning, Everly joins me. She talks enough for both of us. It leaves me time to think about Hector and the happiness he gives me.
