Page 242 of The Legacy of Ophelia
“Spirits,apeanga,” he groaned as he pushed all the way in. “I didn’t think it was possible for you to feel any better around my cock, but somehow you do now.”
His hand gripped my ribs, just below the Bind, and I realized that at the angle they were inked, when he held me like that, where my tattoo ended, Tolek’s began. One unbreakable bond. At the thought, I urged him on faster.
“I can feel you deeper than before,” I gasped out. And I knew he understood from the way his hips jerked against me. It wasn’t just physically deeper—it was in our souls.
As he pulled his hips back and snapped forward again, Tolek’s insatiable hunger poured down the bond, a golden rope glimmering between us in my mind. I could practically hear the words of love and adoration chanting through his mind. That he didn’t know how he got here, but he’d never do anything to let me go.
I sent a wave of appreciation back as I leaned up to kiss him, pressing as close as possible because Angels I couldn’t get enough. Skin on skin, heartbeat against heartbeat.
Gratitude flooded down the bond. That he had always been my moonlight on a dark night, that he had fought unquestioningly by my side against Angels and curses and gods, that we hadsurvived.
He clearly felt that word because he groaned, and a burst of anger shot down the bond, tempered by desperation. He paused, flipping us over so he was sitting on the bed, and I was straddling him. Gripping my waist, he slammed me down on his length, and I cried out.
Swiveling my hips, I dragged my nails across the Bind on his arm, the ink so fresh and dark. Then, I traced the tips of the gold feathers at his shoulders.
Mine.
Tol’s lips closed around my breast as he rocked me forward so my clit ground against him, and I moaned his name, hands diving into his hair.
His teeth scraped across my nipple, and he slipped one hand around my back. I arched into him before the touch even came, in pure anticipation. But when he dragged a finger down the joint where my wing met my skin and pressed down, I fell apart.
I clenched tightly around him, and he exploded into me. And as we crashed apart, something in the Bind sparked to life. An acceptance and a belonging. A safety and cherishing that ignited that gold rope that was the tethered slips of our souls.
Love tunneled between them. Love and promises and desire, all with Tolek’s dizzying charm and playful lust stamped upon them, just as it was on my spirit.
“I love you so much,” I whispered as I came down.
“Infinitely,apeagna,” he agreed, stroking a thumb absently across my Bind.
And I grinned against his shoulder. He was infinitely mine. And we had survived.
“Apeagna,”Tolek whispered in my ear as I dozed against his chest.
I groaned in response. My body was so heavy, sated. I couldn’t wake up now. Not unless he wanted to get very clever about how he did so.
Tol laughed, and I had a feeling I’d unintentionally sent that thought right down our Bind. “I promise to wake you in a much more pleasurable way tomorrow,” he said, kissing me softly. “But I have a surprise for you.”
“What surprise?” I mumbled. My wings dragged against the comforter behind me as I leaned further into him. Based on the sun warming my feathers, it was still afternoon. I’d probably only been asleep for an hour or so.
“Come on,” Tolek said, jostling me as he climbed off the bed, taking my favorite pillow—his chest—with him.
I squinted, catching him as he tugged on a pair of leathers. Sleeveless, they left his new Bind on display. The tips of the golden wing tattoo were visible around his shoulder, and something inside of me purred when I saw the two together. He laughed, striding to the dressing chamber to pull out clothes for me as well.
As I sat up, I took in the light slanting across the overflowing bookshelf. Full of Tol’s favorite volumes, we’d move it in here a year ago now. The space had transformed not only into mine, but into both of ours. His clothes hung beside mine in the dressing chamber, his belongings lined shelves in the office, his journal—which made my heart ache every time I remembered reading his poems and letters—sat atop one of the bedside tables. He wrote me one of those letters every day now, and I tucked them all away in the top drawer of my nightstand.
Every inch of the palace was a home.
The insistent, eager smile Tol flashed me as he returned had the lingering sleep clearing, and I rose to dress and followed him.
“What arewe doing in the training arena?” I asked as we strolled down the open-air walkway the led to the stairs descending into the dirt training circuit on palace grounds.
“It’s been exactly a year,” Tol stated, and I froze. “I know you haven’t wanted to speak about it.”
I stopped walking, swallowing. “It still hasn’t felt real.”
Even exactly a year after we defeated the Warrior God—to the day—it hadn’t felt real. I jolted out of bed this morning with my heart racing and repeated my mantra.
My body is my own.
