He soon stirred inside me again, and I began a slow circle of my hips.
“Gods among us.” He made the words into a labored exhale. “Yes, like that.”
A devilish smile lit my face. I could do worse. Much worse. I locked my hips into a drawn-out rhythm and curled over him, as if to nip at his neck. He craned his head, exposing his throat, but I whispered in his ear, instead.
“In the sacred embrace of the swamp, here under the watchful eyes of Zephyrine, I pledge my heart and soul.”
A breath sped in through his lips. His hands splayed against my thighs. “Lioness? You don’t have to.”
“I know. I want to. I vow to forsake all others and seek refuge in your arms.”
His body stiffened—in anticipation, or surprise, or pleasure, or...all of the above, hopefully.
My hips rolled as I said the vows back to him, each and every word, though a few times, I had to take a moment and hunt for the next piece. I wasn’t an actor, who could memorize lines with no apparent effort.
But I got through it, working him into a tense knot of heavy breathing and glazed eyes along the way. Warmth spun through me with every arc of my pelvis, but I held myself back from the edge. I wanted to watch him, this time.
And I did. His eyes turned up beneath falling lids. I savored the exquisite, shivering line of his throat as he rasped my name. The pull of taut muscle beneath hot skin, the clench of his abdomen as he spilled his pleasure into me.
I kept going, until he clamped his hands around my hips and held me still, panting and wide-eyed. I leaned down to kiss him. When I pulled back, a fresh shine had gathered along his lashes.
“Gods, you were right.” He blinked hard. “That was definitely worse. Consider me defeated. Absolutely ruined.”
“Mmm.” I hummed, gloating. “Weird that your defeat looks a whole lot like an excess of emotion.”
“Emotion? No. Of course not.”
“Uh huh.”
“Haven’t I told you I don’t have feelings?” He cleared his throat. “You’ve just caught me in a moment of extreme eye hydration. That’s all.”
“Oh, right. And let me guess. Nothing like this has ever happened to you before?”
“Never,” he said, all solemnity.
I laughed, and kissed him again, and his hands found a place in my hair. He kissed me back, with feeling, until everything went quiet within me.
I finally eased off him and nestled into the crook of his arm, letting him tuck me against his side. “Harlowe Hollander,” I whispered. “I do like that.”
“Not nearly as much as I do.”
I smiled into his chest. Beyond the window, the nightmare wailed, and for a hairsbreadth of a moment, I almost felt...sorry for it. It sounded like a child, throwing a tantrum because it couldn’t have its way.
I lay there. This would be the last time I ever heard these sounds, and some part of me felt compelled to commemorate them, somehow. To listen and remember, even though the storm had all but given up trying to break me.
A few minutes later, the wailing changed. Fat raindrops slapped against broad leaves. The plip-plop swelled to a muted roar.
I blinked. Huh. That was new. Nightmares never ended with rain. But I guessed this one was different.
I nuzzled against Kai’s side. “What do you think that’s about?”
He didn’t answer. And when I looked up, I laughed.
He was asleep. Of course.
I studied his face—the broad sweep of his brows, the taper his nose, the arrogant line of his jaw.
The wings in my chest rustled, because this was my husband. In the truest sense, now. And what a husband he was. If I’d fortified my defenses with high gates, he’d scaled the walls singing. If my heart had been a cold, black stone, he’d polished itto onyx, and now it gleamed when held up to his unfailing light. If I’d done my best to lock him out, he’d banged on the door so loudly and for so long that I’d finally opened it, exasperated, only for him to steal inside and declare himself on the front end of an indefinite stay.
