Page 55 of A Monsoon Rising

There was a flush to his cheeks that quickly spread all the way to his ears.There was neveranyonebefore you,he’d told her. They were both new to this, and she should probably be more charitable, but—

“What do you mean ‘Well?’?” Talasyn snapped, her own face growing warm. “I’m the one spreading my legs right now, aren’t I? Ifyoudon’t want to—”

“Gods,” Alaric muttered, through clenched teeth. He darted a quick, mildly vexed kiss to the freckles on her nose, and then his hands were on her hips, pushing her down, and she was gripping him by the base, guiding him in …

The breach of his first few inches was almost too much, despite how wet she was. It startled a cry out of her. One that echoed through the ship’s wooden confines before it was whisked away by the pelting rain. Talasyn was utterly mortified, but Alaric lookedstricken.

“Stop?” he croaked, holding her waist tightly so that she couldn’t slide any lower. His sharp features were tense with fear. “We can stop.”

She rocked her hips experimentally, regarding him with anair of defiance as she sank down another inch. Something in his expression shattered and he gathered her close to his chest, the squeak that she let out at suddenly taking more of him muffled against his throat, and then he was scattering kisses to her temple, to the shell of her ear. Not to be outdone, she tugged at his hair and scraped her teeth along his jaw, and she swore that his eyes all but rolled into the back of his head before he buried his face in her collarbone. And drove forward the last few inches to hilt inside her.

At first, it was strange more than anything else. A pressure, a fullness. Talasyn’s breath emerged in rough little hitches as she adjusted to the sensation. She was unsure what to do next, but a sort of—wiggling—seemed as good a place to start as any, and it felt somewhat nice. It took the edge off the discomfort, this gliding of him along her inner walls. Intrigued, she shifted upward, then slid back down.

“Oh,” she moaned. And did it again and again, clutching at Alaric’s shoulders for balance.

It wasn’t long before she realized that those shoulders were strung as tight as halyards in the same gale-force wind that was roaring across the beach.

Her husband was a statue at first glance, his face still tucked against her clavicle. But closer inspection revealed that his every muscle strained with the effort of not moving, of not hurting her. Chagrined, she coaxed his head up—and found herself looking into silver eyes thatburnedwith need.

“Tala.” He sounded almost broken, her name as urgent as a battlefield hymn. “I want to—may I?”

“Yes,” Talasyn breathed out. And this, too, was surrender. This, too, was letting go of fear. This, too, was free fall. “I think so. Yes.”

And Alaric was kissing her again, and then he began tomove.

Tight, she is so tight, so hot and wet and all for me—

That was the one semi-coherent line of thought that Alaric’s mind had dissolved into; the rest was pleasant static, a whirl of beautiful sunlight girl.

Talasyn was mostly quiet as he rocked up into her with shallow thrusts, only the faintest sighs escaping her lips. She was more expressive with her hands, those nimble fingers digging into his biceps, tracing the sides of his face, disappearing beneath his shirt to scale the ladder of his ribs.

Soon she was grinding down on him, and he was delirious with the feeling. He had never felt anything like it before and wanted to feel only this for the rest of his life. He couldn’t stop kissing every part of her that he could reach. It would have been concerning if he’d had it in him to have concerns beyond the snug warmth that had become his whole universe.

It would have been concerning, too, the whine that left his lips when she pushed him away, but it swiftly melted into a groan when her small, strong hands pinned his shoulders to the bulkhead and sherodehim.

This was how Alaric was going to die. Talasyn was truly going to kill him, with her brow furrowed in concentration like that, with her breasts bouncing likethat. Naked and golden in his lap, she rose over him and sank back down with each roll of her slim hips, as though he were the shoreline that her waves broke against, her eyes fiery like high summer, her kiss-stung lips curving into a winsome smile. A smile that—

—that was perhaps a little toosmug—

“Ruin looks good on you, my lord.” She had never looked more Nenavarene than in this moment. Or more maddening.

He pressed one hand to the base of her spine, holding her in place as he thrust roughly up into her. Her mouth dropped open in surprise and he gave that mouth no opportunity to scold him, kissing it as he palmed her breasts.

When she finally cried out, some dark and somewhat petty satisfaction swept through him. He clamped his arms around her waist, and she looped hers around his neck, and then they were moving together, the ship’s boards creaking, blood and magic shrieking, the Eversea tumultuous, and the skies ablaze with lightning.

Outside, like the animals.

In the storm, like they were made of it.

“Careful, little wife,” he murmured in her ear, for no reason other than to piss her off, “or I’ll start to think you like having me around.”

And the hellion bit himagain, this time sinking her teeth into his shoulder. Hauling him dangerously close to the brink.

“I told you,” Talasyn gritted out, “not to call me that when—”

“When what?” Alaric took her by the hips, setting a fevered pace that had her panting, and had him seeing stars. “When I’m bouncing you on my lap? When you’re dripping all over me? You fuck the same way you fight, Lachis’ka, did you know that? No quarter. Chomping at the bit.” He hit a spot inside her that made herwrithe, her walls squeezing down on him. He did it over and over again. “Deadly. Magnificent. The prettiest thing I’ve ever seen.”

Alaric could tell, from the way Talasyn bristled, that she was gearing up to say something, probably to call him a name, but whatever it was emerged as a sound caught between a sob and a scream as her eyelids fluttered shut and the rest of her went still. Thunder rent the air as she dragged him with her headlong over the precipice.

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