“But I’m not over your knee,” she purrs breathlessly.
Two seconds of wrestling later, she’s face-down with her buttocks protruding upward and her hair falling in a tangle. I bring my palm down on her backside and she screeches with glee. I’m careful not to put pressure on her belly as I swat her creamy skin red.
“That better?” I turn her around and tenderly settle her back on the chaise, gliding into her with a groan. “Fuck, Briar, you’re sowet.”
“You could have done that a long time ago,” she murmurs, red-faced.
“I’ll do it every day if you want me to.”
“Mm.” She tips her hips to meet mine. “Special occasions. That does sting, but I like it.”
From there, it doesn’t take me long to find release. I breathe in her rose scented skin, feel her hair slither across my chest, and the second time she clenches around me I lose control. Couldn’t have stopped myself from coming if my life depended upon it.
Damp hair clings to her temples. I brush a kiss there, tasting salt.
“Have you seen the panel in the nave?” she asks, sitting up.
“No.”
“Come.”
She pulls on her dress and holds out one hand, wiggling her fingers. Reluctantly, I pull on my trousers and let her lead me down to the cathedral-like space where she laid in an enchanted slumber. I realize now why I don’t like that place. It reminds me of a crypt. I sometimes wonder what’s buried beneath Thorn Mountain, before deciding that I don’t want to know.
The boarded-up windows are open now, which helps to alleviate the suffocating atmosphere. Briar steps onto the dais and points at the final panel, which had been blank when Alistair and I found her.
No longer.
The last image is of us.
“Now I understand why it was blank,” she says, turning to me, her eyes shining with excitement, and takes my hand in both of hers. “My future was unwritten. We chose our fate, Killian. Together.”
“And we’ll keep fighting for it.” I draw her close, inhaling the scent of her sun-warmed hair, feeling my ironclad heart expand inside my chest. Blunt words, but true. “I love you, Briar.”
Her kiss is as soft as it is sweet.
Epilogue
ALISTAIR
Surveying my ruined castle is akin to running a sword through my own belly.
But my father’s slow applause is the true killing blow.
“Well done, my son.”
Clap. Clap. Clap.
“You wanted to prove yourself, and you have.” He tucks his hands behind his back, a gesture I unconsciously imitate. I despise the thought of being anything like him.
But there can be no doubt now. I am every inch my loathsome father’s progeny.
“Proven yourself a gods-damned fool!”
My father’s shout fades into a coughing fit.
“You had to have the most beautiful bride. Not just any gorgeous girl on offer, and there were plenty of them available. No, you had to have the legend. And for that, you havedestroyed my castle.”
The last three words are delivered in a furious roar, inches from my ear. I can’t help but wince.
