Page 102 of The Seeker
“That may go out the window this first time.” He leaned down and bit the side of her breast, his teeth scraping up the valley between her breasts as she pulled him closer and tilted her pelvis up.
“Please.”
Rhys braced one arm at her side, cupped her bottom in the other, and angled her hips before he drove into her in a long, steady slide.
Meera let out an aching breath. Heaven above. So good. So full. She’d been aching for this ever since he’d kissed her the first time.
His mouth came down on hers as he pulled out, then drove in deeper than the first time.
“Gabriel’s fist,” he muttered against her lips. “So good.”
“Yes.” She wrapped her legs around him and arched up, driving Rhys into her at the perfect angle. She saw stars behind her eyes. She felt raw, uncontrolled. There was no thought, only feeling and hunger and pleasure.
Rhys thrust into her with a steady rhythm, his mouth sealed over hers, stealing her breath and her groans of pleasure.
Meera’s magic rose up and embraced its mate. Her body and soul recognized him. She was heady with magic, drunk on his touch. She saw histalesmglow silver in the rising steam of the bathhouse, lighting the room and the gleaming drops of water that coated her body.
Her magic rose with her pleasure, cresting a moment before the climax clutched her body and she threw her head back. The vision of the cane field and the starry forest rose in her, and she threw it instinctively toward Rhys, sharing the vision with him as he began to come.
“Meera!” He sank his teeth into her shoulder and groaned when he spilled his pleasure into her. “I knew it was you.”
She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, pulling him close as his body came to rest in hers, the profound peace of his touch melting her bones until she felt weightless. Ephemeral. Her mind floated to the rustling cane fields where she felt a hand reach out and touch hers before it drifted away.
“It was you,” she whispered. “It was always you.”
Rhys turned his cheek, scraping the rough stubble of his beard over her cheek until their mouths met. “It will only ever be me.”
Meera closed her eyes and nodded, her legs still wrapped tight around his hips. “Good.” She didn’t want to let him go. Maybe ever. He felt like he was hers. The only thing that had ever been hers before.
He arched into her, still hard. “Our mating ceremony will be tomorrow. Is that enough time for you to write your vow?”
She nodded. “And you?”
“I’ve had my vow written since the night you told me we werereshon.”
She opened her eyes. “But you didn’t take anything for granted?”
“It wasn’t presumption.” Rhys smiled. “It was hope.”
She saton the edge of the mound at sunset, shaking the satellite phone. It was freshly charged—they had a solar charger that worked well—but nothing was getting through. Nothing. Was it Ata’s earth magic? That was the only explanation.
An explanation that her mother would be wholly unsympathetic toward.
Shit.
Rhys sat next to her and grabbed the phone. “Shaking it isn’t going to do anything.”
“Logically I do know that, but since I don’t have a hammer, shaking it seemed like the best course of action.”
He smiled. “Still no signal?”
“Nothing.” She tried to ignore the flutter of panic in her chest. “Rhys, if we mate—”
“When we mate.”
She nodded. “Whenwe mate…”
He frowned. “What are you worried about?”
