Page 47 of Burned Alive to Be His
I turn to my mate.
She stands in the center of the cavern, her red and gold ceremonial garment a slash of vibrant color against the dark stone. She is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.
I go to her, and I cup her face in my hands. “I have never known a night like this,” I whisper, my voice a raw, broken thing. “I have never known… joy.”
“Nor I,” she says, her hands coming to rest on my chest, over my heart. “You have given me a home, Xvitar.”
“You,” I say, my voice thick with an emotion that threatens to overwhelm me. “You are my home.”
I kiss her, a slow, deep, soul-searing kiss that is a promise, a vow, a prayer. It is the culmination of our entire journey, of the fire, the blood, the fear, the hope.
When we finally break apart, we are both breathless. I slowly, reverently, begin to undress her, my fingers tracing the intricate, golden embroidery of her garment before I slide it from her shoulders. It pools at her feet, a splash of color on the dark stone floor, leaving her naked, beautiful, and utterly mine in the soft, magical light.
“I will not hurt you,” I whisper, my hands tracing the faint, silvery lines of the scars on her back. “Never again.”
“I know,” she says, and she turns in my arms, her own hands going to the laces of my breeches.
When we are both naked, I do not take her immediately. I lift her into my arms and carry her to the great pile of furs, laying her down as if she is the most precious, fragile treasure in my hoard. I lie down beside her, and I simply look at her, my eyes memorizing every line, every curve, every scar.
“I love you, Judith,” I say, the words a raw, unfamiliar, and utterly terrifying truth. “I love your fire. I love your strength. I love the way you look at me, as if you see the male behind the monster.”
Tears well in her eyes, shining like stars in the dim light. “There is no monster, Xvitar,” she whispers, her hand coming up to cup my jaw. “There is only you.”
And then, there are no more words.
I kiss her, a deep, worshipful kiss, my mouth and hands re-learning the landscape of her body. This is not the frantic, desperate claiming of before. This is a slow, deliberate exploration, a prayer of flesh and bone. I taste the salt on her skin, the sweetness of her mouth. I learn the places that make her gasp, the places that make her moan.
“Please,” she whispers, her body arching against mine, her scent, a heady mix of woman and desire, filling my senses. “I need you. Now.”
I move over her, my body a shield, a promise. I position my cock at her pussy, and she lifts her hips, her eyes locked with mine, a silent, eager invitation. I slide into her, a slow, perfect union of flesh and soul. She is so hot, so wet, so tight around me. She is my home.
I begin to move, a slow, deep, powerful rhythm that is a stark contrast to the frantic, desperate energy of our previous joinings. This is not a claiming. This is a worship. My eyes are locked on hers, and in their violet depths, I see my own reflection. I see not a warrior, but a mate. Her mate.
“Xvitar,” she breathes, her nails digging into the powerful muscles of my back. “It feels… different.”
“It is,” I growl, my voice a low rumble of pure, soul-deep pleasure. “This is not just flesh, Judith. This is the bond. This is our souls learning each other.” I thrust deeper, and she cries out,a sharp, keening sound of pure bliss. “Do you feel it? Do you feel me?”
“Yes,” she sobs, the pleasure so intense it is almost a pain. “Always. I feel you everywhere.”
I change the rhythm, pulling almost all the way out before sinking back into her slowly, torturously. She whimpers, her hips lifting off the furs, chasing the feeling. “Don’t tease me,” she begs.
“I am not teasing,” I whisper, my lips brushing her ear. “I am savoring. I want to remember this moment for the next thousand years.” I slide my good arm under her, lifting her, changing our angle so I am seated, and she is impaled on my cock, her legs wrapped around my waist. “I want to remember the way you look, right now, with my son sleeping just feet away.”
The word,son, hangs in the air between us, a sacred, powerful thing. Tears stream down her face, but they are tears of joy. “Our son,” she corrects me, her voice thick with emotion.
“Our son,” I agree, and I begin to move again, a powerful, driving rhythm that rocks us both. The cavern is filled with the sound of our bodies colliding, of her breathless moans and my guttural groans.
“Mine,” I snarl, my thrusts deep, powerful, aimed at the very core of her being. “You are mine, Judith. My heart. My fire. My mate. Forever.”
“Yours,” she cries out, her voice breaking. “Forever, Xvitar. Take me. Make me yours completely.”
I feel her climax building, a tidal wave of sensation that is pulling her under. I wrap my arms around her, holding her tight against me. “Come with me, my queen,” I roar, and my body goes rigid, my own release imminent.
We shatter together, an explosion of pleasure and release that seems to make the very crystals in the cavern walls humwith our joy. My scream is her name, her roar is mine. We are two halves of a whole, two fires merged into one, and in the blinding, white-hot light of our climax, a pulse of golden energy, the same light we saw from the egg, flares from our joined bodies, washing over the cavern before it fades. It is the bond, the true mating bond, sealing us, soul to soul, for all eternity.
I collapse back onto the furs, pulling her down with me, her boneless body a warm, welcome weight on my chest. For a long, long time, there is only the sound of our breathing, the frantic beat of our hearts slowly returning to a steady, synchronous rhythm.
The haze of pleasure slowly recedes, leaving in its wake a profound, unbreakable peace. I am no longer Xvitar, the warrior. I am Judith’s mate. And I am finally, truly, home.
