Page 173 of Beneath a Shattered Sky
And slowly… ever so slowly… he comes back to me. One hand abandons his punishing grip on my thigh and moves to press against my lower abdomen, thumb flicking over my swollen nub until not coming is torture.
“Come,” Bree snarls. “Come for me.”
The sound that tears from my chest is inhuman. The leash on my self-control snaps, and I implode. Every muscle in my body tenses as my orgasm rips free.
And it doesn’t stop. No. It goes on and on, drowning me in toe-curling bliss. Brutal and savage and perfect.
I come until I’m limp and delirious from pleasure. I’m not even sure if Bree has followed me, but his thrusts have stopped by the time I come back to my senses.
“Hey,” he whispers, still buried in me. “Are you back?”
Am I imagining it, or does he sound a little bit… cocky about that?
Blinking, I check him over instead of answering. His colour looks more normal, his pupils are no longer blown.
“Has it passed?”
He nods. “I think so.”
Then he pulls free of my body, and I wince as I feel the gush of fluid escape me.
“Did I hurt you?” The concern is back.
“No. I’m just… gross.”
His smile lights up his face. “That tends to happen when your mate fills you up multiple times. Stay here, I’ll clean us up.”
As my heart rate calms, the enormity of what just happened starts to sink in.
He told me he loves me. He was under the influence of the potion, though, and perhaps with my confession, he felt pressured… Butterflies take up residence in my stomach, my self-doubt rearing its ugly head.
“Did you mean it?” I ask as he returns to the room and starts gently wiping the mess between my thighs with a warm cloth.
He doesn’t ask me to clarify. “Yes.” A long pause. “I’ve loved you since I first saw you in Siabetha. I know… you might not really have meant it like that. It was an emotional?—”
I press my finger to his lips, keeping my moves slow and gentle so as not to startle him. “I meant it. Now hurry up. I need to hold you.”
The events of the last few hours are finally hitting, and I can feel the terror I didn’t let myself feel while I was so focused on caring for him hitting me.
“Hey.” Bree chucks the cloth and wraps himself around me, drawing blankets over us both. “The Call just spiked, what’s wrong?”
I shake my head and bury my face in his chest. “I was scared you were going to die, and Cedwyn is dead and Ashton?—”
“Drystan is handling it. He knows his uncle, and he’ll hold the fort while you recover.” He strokes a soft hand down my back, then stops. “Sorry, I forgot, your wings…”
“No, keep going.”
He hesitates but continues stroking my skin. “Rest. I’ll wake you in an hour, and we’ll sort it all out together.”
My eyes slide closed, and I snuggle deeper into his warmth, trusting him to do just that.
Fifty-One
Drystan
Elfhame has fallen.
Those three little words change everything.
