Page 147 of Skyshade
“Hasn’t anyone told you it’s rude to read someone’s emotions without their permission?”
“Yes,” he said into her neck. “My wife. Constantly.” He looked up at her. “Why disappointment, heart? Did I do something?”
She shook her head. “No. Of course not. Did—did everything go well?”
He sighed. “Took just about all my power, but yes. We evacuated everyone on this side of Nightshade, split between every isle. Every newland. I’ve never portaled so much in one day in my life, but they’re all safe.”
Good. That was good.
Tomorrow, Nightshade would not be a habitable place. The storms would be worse than any of them had experienced before.
“And Oro?”
“Alive. For now,” he said.
She gave him a withering look.
“He’s ready.”
“Lark hasn’t surfaced?”
He shook his head. “No. Astria and Enya are taking turns on watch. I just saw them. Neither has spotted her.”
Good. She sighed against his chest.
He looked down at her, expectantly, still not over the fact that she, for a fleeting moment, had felt disappointment. She shook her head. “It’s nothing. With everything going on, it means nothing.” He only continued to wait. “It’s just—you look tired. And I had...I...” She made to move off the table, but he stopped her with a gentle hand against her hip.
“Ah,” he said. “A final night together in case we all die a gruesome death tomorrow?”
“Something like that,” was all she said.
His eyes darkened. “I’m never too tired to take my wife to bed,” he said. “Unless you had planned something with portaling involved, in which case, you’ll have to—”
She tried to pinch his stomach and found nothing but a little skin. Still, he feigned hurt. He smiled, and Isla died a little inside.
His grin withered. “What is it?”
“The storm...the portal...I worry it will destroy this castle.” The entire back of the house was made of glass. She looked around. “This is the only real home you’ve ever had, and it could be destroyed. You must be devastated.”
Grim nodded, understanding. “Of course I am,” he admitted. “But I haven’t lived here for centuries. I haven’t felt as much of an attachment as you think.” He dragged his fingers through her hair, hispalm cupped her face. “And this isn’t my home,” he said. “Not anymore. My home is wherever you are.”
A tear slipped down her cheek, and before Grim could notice, she crushed her lips to his. At first, their kiss was gentle. Loving. Then it was desperate.
He parted her lips with his tongue, and she groaned as he tasted her thoroughly, stroking the top of her mouth, her tongue, her teeth. He nipped her bottom lip, then licked over the hurt, and a jolt of pleasure raced down her spine.
Her hips ground forward, desperate for any type of friction; and slowly, so slowly, his long fingers traced up the inside of her thigh, bringing her dress with them. His thumb made slow, teasing strokes, so close to where she needed him, before he pulled the hem of her dress up to her hip in one rough motion. Grim seemed to go preternaturally still as he realized she wasn’t wearing anything beneath it.
“Hearteater,” he said, his voice strained. “Are you trying to kill me?”
“Yes,” she said.
“Good. Now open your legs for me.”
She did as he asked and arched as his knuckles brushed straight down the center of her, his touch featherlight, his skin cold against her heated skin. He growled at her want, at the way she clutched his shoulders like he was her anchor, at the way she tipped her head back as his fingers made long, languid strokes right where she needed him. At the way she cried out when he finally filled her.
“That noise,” he said, his voice filled with such brutal want that she met his gaze again. His eyes had gone almost wholly black, darkened with desire, and he slowly leaned down, curled his hand around the back of her neck, and said right against her lips, “Make it again.”
She did. Again and again as she shamelessly ground against his hand, chasing her pleasure with abandon. His thumb traced her pulse, then dragged down her neck to her sensitive chest. He caressedit, back and forth, pace quickening. She panted into his mouth as she matched his pace with her hips; as she tensed, then broke, pulsing around him.
