Page 49 of Song of the Dawn
Ezra must have sensed the worry, for he turned my chair and slid his arms around my waist, head in my lap. “In the spring, should all go well, we go to the city, and then I will bring you back here with me.” His fingers were under my skirt, sliding up the material, but he pinned me with his heated gaze. “Mila. I love you. I’m not letting you go. Not now. Not ever. Where you go, I go.”
I sucked in a deep breath, surprised at the passion in his words. My eyes went wet, and my fingers trembled as I curled them into his strands of fine hair. He truly was perfect, and his cheeks dimpled as he smiled at me. “What about the banishment?”
His smile disappeared like storm clouds crossing over sunshine. “That’s why I can’t go anywhere right now. I have one last task to finish before I’ll be free to travel. Will you stay? I know the terms of your original contract were through summer and I asked you to stay through fall, but the cold comes in winter, and it is charming here. I’d be lonely without you.” He smiled again, my sun god, gracing me with his splendor.
I nodded, unable to speak, for he had my dress around my knees and bent his head to kiss my exposed skin. Lips seared my flesh, and my entire body arched in anticipation of the pleasure he promised. Sliding my bottom to the edge of the chair, he spread my thighs further apart, one finger following the path upward to where my wet slit waited, hidden by clothes. I writhed, thrusting myself toward his mouth, but he paused, stroking me through my underwear. My eyes rolled back in my head as my breath came shallow. Lips parted, I struggled for the sweet air. Plans of finding that mysterious violin and learning to become a master of music drifted away, mere goals that lost their importance under Ezra’s touch.
“Ezra,” I groaned, my fingers digging into his shoulders.
“Tell me you want this,” he said, a strangled note in his tone.
Rising, he bent over me, one hand still between my legs while the other twisted through my hair, lifting my mouth to his. The dark flavor of wine still hung on his lips, and he held me tight as his fingers roamed, stroking, spreading until one finger was inside me. I groaned into his mouth, my hips rocking, desperate for more. Ezra held me still, hindering my journey to the peak of pleasure. Opening my eyes, I met his gaze. Pools of liquid desire. The way he gazed at me only made me surer of myself. Tightening my grip on his wrist, I confirmed, “I’m yours.”
After sliding his finger out of me, he took my head in both hands and kissed me. When he pulled back, his expression was raw, almost wet. Lifting both my hands, he kissed my palms, then my wrists. “This, this is enough. Thank you.”
I had the slightest sensation he was speaking of more than the words we shared, and yet I was overcome by him and him alone. Nothing else mattered.
Standing, he pulled me to my feet, wine forgotten. “Come.”
He led me into the study and to an adjoining door. Within was a small room with just a bed, nothing more. Ezra’s chambers in the inn. Leaving me in the middle of the room, he lit candles, which cast a soft glow, banishing the shadows. Something quickened within me as he faced me again, holding my gaze as he discarded his clothes, slowly, piece by piece. A challenge.
I copied his behavior, undoing the buttons and ties that held me bound in my dress. I let it slip off my shoulders, tossing my underwear with it, but when Ezra led me to the bed, I pushed him down and climbed on top. His hand tightened around my buttocks as he hissed, and I rubbed myself over his hardness, unashamed of my need for him. He’d teased me on the balcony. It was only fair I teased him back.
Impatient, he yanked me forward with a growl, his broad hand palming my breast and bringing it to his lips. My nipples went hard as he lashed them with his tongue and bit gently, then not so gently at all, drawing a cry of pleasure from my lips. Thus far he hadn’t played with my breasts, but now he took one, then the other, sucking, pulling, nipping. The blazing heat of desire filled my core. My hips bucked against him, and suddenly I needed to be filled, to be taken. I moved faster, my actions telling him what I needed. I arched my back, and he took both my breasts in his hands, rolling my nipples between his fingers until I gasped.
My chest tight, my muscles trembled as he rolled to his side, taking me with him. Hooking one leg over mine, he parted my legs. I waited for him to thrust inside, but he took his time, running his hand down my belly until slowly, tantalizingly, he ran his fingers over my wet mound. Once again, his fingers thrust inside my slick folds. He found my clit and played with it, making small circles. A lightness filled me, and my breath came hard and fast as he kissed me. This time, I couldn’t stop the cries that left my lips. I arched into him, craving, demanding more while he held me tight.
When at last he took his hand away, a tightness coiled within, so intense that when he thrust inside, an orgasm ripped through me. I ascended to a new height of pleasure as he held me, thrusting back and forth, our moans and groans mixing, our bodies becoming one long shadow, the candlelight reflected on the walls. He took me, body and soul, and I clung to him, opening my mouth again and again to him, his love, his passion, and his embrace.
Ezra wooed me through the next two months as the inn grew quieter and the season changed slowly, beautifully. I heard the violin occasionally, a call, a summoning that grew sadder, shorter, and more distant each time I heard it. But Ezra was always present, and my desire for him was so deep and thorough and driving as if my very heart beat for him. It did not matter how long he kissed me or how long we made love; every moment away from him stretched. When I was with him, it was perfection.
He took me out to the lake, made love to me on the shore, found me in the garden, kissed me in the hall, whisked me away to his tower, and it was all incandescently perfect. My fears about falling in love melted away, for Ezra, my mysterious sun god, was true to his word. He would never hurt me or betray me. He wasn’t like my mother’s lovers, and it shook me that Aveline was correct. I had to write my own story. I composed a letter to Mother and Aveline, sharing my intentions to stay until spring. When a response came, it was full of love, and yet I read the silent reprimand behind the words. But I ignored it. I wasn’t neglecting my family. I sent them money, and they paid the debts off. Originally, I’d come for them, and now I stayed for myself.
Mila
It was still dark, the air gray, maybe an hour before dawn, when I woke to the music of the violin. My dreams had been blissful, my mind still entrapped by memories of what Ezra had done to me last night, my heart beating fast with the anticipation of what he might do today. But the music, it poured out, a summoning, a beckoning, and this time, it wasn’t sweet but low and slow, almost deadly. Each note was pulled out with agonizing slowness, and I knew this was my chance to find out who played the violin.
Throwing back the covers, I dressed quickly, pulling on trousers and boots. Careful not to wake Rachelle, I tiptoed out of the room, avoiding the creaks on the stairs as I made my way outside.
The October air was cool and made me shiver as I stepped outside, hints of pumpkin, spice, and pine swirling. Closing my eyes, I listened to the sound to determine which direction it came from. In my heart, though, I already knew it came from the island.
I followed the rune stones up past Ezra’s tower, feeling the slightest guilt as I turned downhill, following the path by the lake. The magnificent forest loomed before me, a blend of evergreen and aspen, shades of crimson, harvest orange, and blazing yellow creating a quilt of beauty to grace the land.
There I slowed to catch my breath, the air a mix of peppery herbs and tangy wood. Streaks of pink light bloomed in the sky. Soon the sun would rise, and my chance would be gone. Forcing away thoughts of shadows, I stepped into the dark wood. There was just enough light for me to see my steps, but otherwise, the trees towered high above me, hemming out the light. Twigs and stones littered the path, forcing me to slow down even more. The trail twisted away, and my heartbeat increased, from not only my quick pace but the fact I walked into a place unknown.
Silver light flickered, brightening the gloom of the trees. An enchantment hung in the air, and faintly came the rustling of woodland creatures. Occasionally a rich-toned leaf would drift in front of me, as if the trees welcomed me to their kingdom by tossing down leaves to brighten my path.
The island was old; that much I could tell from the thick tree trunks, flakes of white peeling off the aspen trees, and the impenetrable underbrush that appeared if one dared trod off the path. White mushrooms popped up at the bases of the trees, and eventually the scents of rot and mold and water wafted to my nose.
That was when I realized another sound was mixed with the violin, the same sound I’d heard on my first trip to the island. A waterfall. Except this time, it was much louder, like distant thunder. It would be a sight to behold.
I expected to come out of the wood at any moment, but the path wound deeper, twisting away from civilization. The woods thickened with vines and moss, gnarled branches overhanging like hands reaching out to snatch at me. The deeper I went, the more I wondered if I was being needlessly foolish. But music played on, and my imagination danced around the idea that it was nothing but a ghost meant to lure unsuspecting people into the forest, to their deaths. When a shadow crossed my path, I jumped, aware of the menace that lay over the forest.
Swallowing hard, I continued, promising myself that after one last turn, I’d go back. I took the turn and the next one too, and suddenly the forest ended, and the path opened up.
Relief swept through me, and I stilled, for the sound of the waterfall and the violin were loudest. I’d come to an open space where the blush of dawn covered the sky with hints of lavender, coaxing the radiant sun to appear. The path descended to the bank of a wide, shimmering pool where mist floated off the surface, waiting for the warmth of light to burn it away. A waterfall poured off a cliff that rose about twenty feet above me. Water cascaded into pearl-colored foam, churning under the falls before settling to find its place, and the sound of it was almost as lovely as the music of the violin.
Looming above the falls were other cliffs, each one rising higher than the last, some covered with greenery, others with golden trees, all leading to the heights of the blue mountains. My heart soared at the beauty of it, for this was no dark and dangerous place; nay, it was a picturesque isle of beauty, an ode to nature undisturbed by humans.
