Page 50 of The Storm
“Shhhhh.” She nodded toward the door. “We still have company.”
There were no shadows in her eyes. No worry marring her forehead. She slid up Max’s body, wearing nothing but her skin, and took his mouth, luxuriating in his sleepy kiss as she shoved his pants down his hips.
“Naked,” she murmured against his lips. “I want you naked.”
“Yes.” He bit her lower lip and sucked it into his mouth. “I’m getting that.”
He rolled to the side and kicked off his pants, running a hand down her back and over her bottom before he hitched her muscled thigh over his own to open her. He was already hard and aching, but all he had to do was catch her scent for that to happen. What heated his blood that morning was the lightness in her eyes.
Renata smiled against his lips and hummed happily as Max slid into her. She curled her leg around his hips and rocked in an easy, sleepy rhythm as they made love in the cozy warmth of their room.
“I love you,” he whispered.
“Happy Midwinter.” Her eyes sparkled. “I thought this was a good start to the day.”
“This is the best start to any day.” He voice was rough. “I want to wake up with you every day.”
She bit his chin. “How aboutmostdays?”
A grumble.
“And,” she said, “on the nights we aren’t together, I will dream-walk by your side. We’ll meet each other in our sleep and love each other there, even when we’re miles apart, my love.”
His heart was so full he couldn’t bear it. Dream walking was a special magic reserved for mates. Only mated scribes and singers had the ability to meet each other in dreams, their souls touching even if their bodies were apart. He rolled Renata to her back and sank into her, their easy pace forgotten. He needed her. Needed her laughter and her heat and the brightness in her eyes. Needed the peace of her presence and the comfort of her hand.
“You are my mate,” he said, taking her mouth in a hard kiss. “You are my mate, Renata of Fatima.”
Her lips were flushed with pleasure, swollen from his kisses. Her breath came in quiet pants as he drove her body to climax.
“You are my mate, Maxim of Riga,” she breathed out. “I will have no other.”
“I will have no other.” He heard the quiet catch of her breath. “I want no other but you. Forever.”
Her body tightened around him, and her back arched in pleasure when she came. Max drove into her, biting the pillow beside her instead of shouting his pleasure when he climaxed. He let out a long breath and fell to the side, gathering Renata to his arms, locking their bodies together.
“I want to stay in bed all day,” he said.
“We have guests.”
Somewhere below them, the smell of baking bread and the sound of bright voices drifted up the stairs.
“Hang our guests,” Max said. “They know where the food is.”
Renata ran her fingers through his short hair. “Is Evin well?”
He nodded. “What did she do?”
“It felt like someone lancing an infection,” Renata said. “It all poured out. And it hurt. So, so badly.”
He hugged her closer.
“But then it was gone. And… I don’t know. Things feel clearer. The pool is still filled with water, but she cleaned out the leaves and muck that had fallen in. I can see the bottom now.”
Max kissed her forehead. “I’m glad.”
“You know we can’t really hide in bed all day, right?”
He lifted his head. “There’s a washbasin in the corner. We’ve made do with worse amenities over the years.”
