Page 100 of Courting War
He needed to be closer to her. To be one with her.
Drawing her on top of his lap, her legs straddled his thighs and her core pressed against him in the best way. Her skirt slid up with the movement, exposing all that wonderful flesh.
His desire grew thick and hard, and he ran his fingers along her back, cupping her ass and squeezing.
Not to be outdone, she claimed his body with her fingers, her hands traveling down his torso, playing along the V-shape of his abs.
Taunting him.
Teasing him as she bit his lower lip and laughed.
A laugh like music.
And magic.
So rare in its beauty.
He sucked in a ragged breath, running his fingertips along her silky and wicked curves. His mouth moved along her jaw and down to the column of her neck to the cresting mountains of her breasts.
Letting out a whimper, she rocked into him. “More.” Her voice was all rattled need.
Kellyn moaned into her, the swing starting to move as he removed his feet from the ground.
“I want you,” she sighed into his lips. “I want all of you.”
His hand trailed up her thigh, and he moved his lips to her ear, first nibbling and then sucking it into his mouth. “Then have all of me.”
Unbuttoning his pants, she growled with pleasure and excitement.
Tension surged in his blood, bubbling, the anticipation of what was to come a physical and hungry thing.
Morrigan tried to relieve him of his trousers, but the swing tilted with the movement, toppling them onto the ground with a thud and laughter.
A swing was probably not the best venue for what they intended.
Kellyn was splayed out on the ground, Morrigan still straddling him, her fingers curled under the edge of his pants.
Their breaths were frantic and love hazed, their chests pulsing up and down with exertion.
But as they tried to catch their breaths, the world came crashing around them, and they realized what they’d just done.
What they shouldn’t be doing. He was a champion in the Sacrifice, and she was his priestess. “We should probably stop.”
“Yes.” The word nearly soundless.
She rolled off him and lay beside him, still panting. From the effort, and probably the unfulfilled desire.
They both needed a moment.
He tried to think of gross or gruesome things to undo the energy still coursing through his body.
It didn’t work.
After a while, he sat up and took in the scene.
Morrigan lay on the ground, her eyes fixed on the ceiling. Her face was all storms, and he wasn’t sure it was because of the kiss. Something was eating away at her soul. Something that lingered from before their frantic hands and cresting fervor.
Morrigan didn’t like talking about herself. That was clear. But curiosity was his curse, and he wanted to know what caused her eyes to darken and her face to dance with emotions. He wanted to learn more.
