Page 133 of The Stolen Kingdom

Maris’s breath hitched, her brows furrowing as her eyes darted over Valda’s face, her neck, her shoulders—searching for something, anything. Her lips trembled, as if struggling with what to say.

“Seashell,” Valda murmured, cupping Maris’s cheek with a large, callused hand. She could feel the jumble of emotions within the bond. The last thing she wanted was Maris to become agitated. “Look at me. I’m fine.”

But Maris wasn’t looking into her eyes anymore. Her trembling hands darted up to Valda’s blouse, her fingers fumbling with the buttons as though the fabric itself were burning onto Valda’s skin, as if Valda’s very own life depended on Maris removing her clothes.

“I need to see you,” Maris choked out. “I need to feel you.”

Valda’s breath faltered as Maris tugged desperately at her clothing, her fingers trembling, her movements clumsy and frantic. Valda caught her wrists, stopping her enough to get through her, to calm her down. “Hey… hey, slow down. I’m not going anywhere.”

Maris shook her head violently, tears spilling over her cheeks as her hands twisted against Valda’s grip. “You say that now, but—Valda, please! What if I am dreaming? What if this is a dream and…” She shook her head again, her eyes trialing to their room. “Where is Cerberus?” Her voice cracked, and her chest heaved as she struggled to contain her sobs.

Valda’s heart clenched painfully as she let go of Maris’s wrists. “Maris. I’m here. This is real,” she said, sitting up on the bed. Valda pulled her blouse over from her shoulders. She ignored the fact that her skin automatically prickled with the cold night air.

Her mate needed to see and touch her, then she would do just that. “I’m right here, Seashell. Touch me.”

Maris’s hands moved immediately, tracing over Valda’s broad shoulders, down the length of her arms, and over the faint scars littering her chest. She pressed her palms against Valda’s warm skin, almost as if she needed to assure herself that it was real.

“I can’t lose you too,” Maris whispered, her fingers splaying over Valda’s heartbeat, over the thrumming, pulsing connection.

Valda swallowed hard, her arms wrapping around Maris as the smaller woman buried her face against her neck, inhaling deeply. “You won’t, Seashell.” As Valda’s hands rubbed slow, soothing circles against her back, Maris pulled away just enough to look into her eyes.

The desperation in her gaze had shifted into that distinctive fire Valda knew too well. Maris’s hands slid up to cradle Valda’s face, her thumb brushing over the scar on her cheek. “I need you,” she murmured, her voice barely audible. “Please, darling.”

Valda blinked, her heart hammering as Maris leaned in, her lips brushing against hers. The kiss deepened, Maris’s hands roaming over her skin with a desperation that made Valda’s chest ache.

“Valda, I need to feel something other than… this.” Maris’s trembling hand hovered near her chest, her pain radiating in waves that Valda could feel.

Valda’s heart clenched. She nodded, her gaze dropping to Maris’s lips. When Maris’s hand rose to touch her shoulder, her soft thumb brushing over sun-kissed skin, Valda leaned into the caress. She pressed her lips to Maris’s forehead, letting the kiss linger over the dormant Sealian symbol. Then her mouth brushed across Maris’s nose, her cheeks, and her jawline.

“The gods manipulated every star in the galaxy to bless me with you as my mate,” Valda murmured. Using her index finger, Valda tilted Maris’s face closer, their lips a hair’s breadth away. “How could I live knowing your heart aches when it belongs to me to protect?”

Maris’s grip on Valda grew taut, her face contorting almost in pain as she pressed herself closer to Valda. “Please,” she whimpered, and Valda’s control diminished further.

“No need to beg,” Valda whispered, her tone husky, her resolve slipping away entirely. Her bandaged hand slipped beneath Maris’s tunic, fingers brushing against fevered skin. Maris inhaled sharply, her breath trembling as goosebumps followed the path of Valda’s fingertips. “I’ll take away the pain.”

A feverish kiss sealed the promise.

Valda could feel Maris’s heart hammering against her chest. The desperation doubled Valda’s effort in calming her down.

While Maris’s touch was desperate, Valda took her time in discarding her clothing to the floor. She allowed Maris to touch her, to grip onto the flesh of her arms and shoulders, searching for that reassurance that she was there, she was alive, and it wasn’t a dream.

Valda concentrated on her lover’s face as she fought with herself, wanting to devour her with the same lust as the first day, but also undoing her with tenderness. Just like Valda liked it, combining love and desire all in the same moment, whispering the dirtiest thing while trailing love over Maris’s skin.

Valda’s hands undid her, touching every part of her body, making sure to replace her pain with pleasure. Her lips traced a line from her jaw to her neck while Maris’s mouth opened, gasping for air, releasing everything that held her down. Her cries echoed in the small house while Valda looked at the door separating them from the rest of the survivors.

Maris’s hand pulled her gaze back to her. Their mouths met for a second before Valda trailed down her neck and chest once more. The soft moans melted into the noises of the night creatures, dissolving into nothing. All the while, Valda stoked the fire inside Maris, grazing her core, her mouth praying to the deity that Maris had become. Her goddess, her adoration, her creed, her everything. And to think in a blink of an eye, that connection could be undone...

Knowing that Maris could feel her desperation, Valda looked up as tears ran down Maris’s temples. As if ashamed, Maris moved her hands to cover Valda’s eyes.

With a soft scoff, Valda moved her face away from Maris’s hands. It was not the time to cry. It was the time to enjoy her mate, have her, love her, and consume her.

“Let go. Feel me,” Valda said, her fingers plunging deeper. “Feel how I stretch you. Feel me…” She sighed, her mouth resuming the act of adoration on Maris’s breasts, her lips writing prayers that would endure until they met in the afterlife.

Maris let out a sob, her hands pulling Valda’s face to hers, her gaze clouded with tears. However, Valda never stopped. Her hands redoubled their efforts to make her come, to make her feel pleasure, to make her feel alive.

Alive.

They were both alive.

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