Page 40 of Blood Currents
“I missed you,” she whispered, her breath warm against my lips.“I missedthis—the way you look at me like I’m something worth loving instead of something that needs to be managed.”
The words hit deeper than she probably intended, cutting straight to the heart of what my uncle had stolen from me.The belief that I could be trusted with something precious.That my love could be a gift instead of a burden.
“I’m here,” I told her, meaning it in every possible way.“Whatever happens with Cyrus, with Elio—whatever comes next—I’m here.Not going anywhere.Not letting anyone take me away from you again.”
18
Marigold
Keane’s kiss had steadied somethinginside me I hadn’t realized was shaking.After everything—his betrayal, the corruption, and his aching absence—I shouldn’t have let my heart open so easily.But Keane was here.Warm and real beneath my fingertips.No longer the ghost of who he’d been.
“I missed you,” I said, tugging him gently toward his bedroom.
“I missed you, too,” he said.
And maybe that was the moment I broke.
My fingers tangled in his shirt, my mouth pressing harder against his and teeth grazing in silent desperation.I needed this.Needed him.Not just the sex—we’d had that before.But the way his magic resonated with mine now, humming with recognition instead of restraint.The way his kiss tasted like a promise he hadn’t dared make until now.
“Marigold,” he breathed when I pulled back long enough to tug his shirt over his head.His chest was pale and marked with faint scars—physical echoes of a trauma his uncle had etched deeper than skin.I ran my fingers over one near his ribs, and he shivered, not from fear but from the weight of being seen.
“I need you,” I said simply.My voice didn’t tremble, but something inside me did.“Tonight.Not because we’re healing or it’s symbolic or any of that.I just… I want you.Here.Now.”
His eyes darkened with emotion—desire and something more tender, like awe.“Are you sure?”
I didn’t answer with words.Just stood and then slid my hands down, unfastening my jeans and stepping out of them slowly.His gaze tracked every movement, his mouth parted like he couldn’t quite breathe.I watched his eyes darken further when I pulled my shirt over my head.I reached behind me and unhooked my bra, letting it fall away, and then stepped closer.
“You can touch me,” I said softly, stepping between his knees.“If you want to.”
His hands rose, tentative at first, like I was made of glass.They cupped my breasts with a kind of gentleness that made my pulse stutter, his thumbs brushing over my nipples until I gasped.That gasp seemed to unlock something in him because the next moment he was pulling me down into his lap, his lips crashing into mine.
The kiss turned urgent—needy—and I rocked against him, feeling the hard line of his cock pressing beneath his sweats.It was my turn to groan, the sound pulled from somewhere low in my belly.He made a sound in return, one of disbelief and hunger.
I reached between us and pushed down his pants, sliding my hand down to cup him through soft cotton.His head fell back, his breath ragged.“Mari…”
“I want you inside me,” I whispered.“Now.”
He hesitated—just a moment—but then he removed the rest of his clothes and lay back down on the bed, pulling me astride him again.His hand slipped between us, stroking over my clit.I moaned.
Lifting myself up, I sank down onto him, and we both gasped.Then I began to move.It wasn’t fast or frantic.This was slow.Deep.Sacred.
His hands found my hips, anchoring me as I moved, each shift of my body making him groan.I braced my hands on his shoulders, my eyes locked to his.I wanted to see every flicker of feeling in him—wanted him to see me, too.Fully.
“Is this okay?”I asked, pausing.
His voice broke.“It’s everything.”
I rolled my hips slowly and deliberately, bracing myself against his chest as our rhythm built.Every movement felt like rediscovery—his body relearning mine, my soul unfolding in the warmth of his touch.
“You feel like home,” I whispered.“You always have.”
Keane’s hands moved reverently, caressing the curve of my hips, the slope of my breasts, like memorizing me again.“I thought I’d lost this.Lost you.”
“I’m right here,” I said, grinding down a little harder and making him groan.“You never lost me.”
The tension built between us—magic sparking along my skin as necromancy hummed to his dimensional current like the ley lines themselves approved.When I came, it was with his name on my lips and my eyes on his face.
“Let go,” I whispered.“It’s okay.I’ve got you.”
