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Chapter 51



“I love you, Harth.” His deep voice, hushed and awed, resonated in the cave-but before she could respond, he took her.

“I-oh!”

Harth had already been sinking, falling headlong into the wonderful sensations he wrung from her, but when he entered her, her eyes flew wide open and her hand slapped at his shoulder, holding on as her mind emptied of anything but the shivering pleasure of feeling him within her, over her, around her.

Tarkyn blew out a breath as he sank back, then bracing on his elbows over her shoulders, he pressed into her again, slower this time.

She wanted to scream at him not to slow.

More.

More.

She grabbed for his shoulders, his back, plunged her fingers into his hair, frantic to find the grip that would soothe the quivering ache within her, the desperate need.

.....

Tarkyn’s head dropped and his fingers tightened in her hair as he grew more confident, his lips peeling back from his teeth and a delicious growl began to roll in his throat.

Harth almost laughed, but she didn’t have the breath. As they rocked together, twin breaths thundering, bodies rocking, voices high, she continued to struggle for control-touching every part of him that she could reach-one hand gripping the marble pillar of his bicep near her ear, the other clawing into his back.

Feet planted in the furs, she lifted her hips to meet him and for a quivering moment they both groaned and held the joining.

Breath held, he kissed her-deep and probing. Harth had never experienced the desire that roared through her in that moment. She would have taken him, taken him in-swallowed him, enveloped him, curled herself around every steel ripple of him. She ached for him so it seemed it could never be soothed.

Then Tarkyn’s breath rushed out of him and he pulled out before plunging into her again with a guttural call.

Harth was lost, lost, barely aware when he began to kiss his way down-her chin, her throat, her chest.

He made a noise in his throat then, a grunt of determination and sheer heat, as he planted a hand next to her, gripping the furs, twisting them between his fingers.

To see his face in that moment, she might have thought he was in pain, but something within her understood-called back to him-as he curled himself almost in two, his hips driving forward even as he took her breast in his other hand and teased her nipple with his thumb.

Pleasure jangled through her-the jolt of his touch crackling through her belly to meet the stunning ache of his invasion. She cried out, felt his arm tremble as he eased off, then did it again and this time, he dropped his head to suck her nipple deep into his mouth, drawing on it deeply, and in time with the pounding of his hips.

“Tarkyn!” she gasped, one hand curled around his forearm, the other braced on his shoulder as her body puddled into pleasure.

“Tarkyn... Tark-” She broke off in a strangled cry. His eyes opened and locked on hers-she could barely see, eyelids fluttering, eyes hooded, but he watched her and she felt the rake of his gaze on her like his fingers on her skin.

She could do nothing, knew nothing, except to cling to him and open herself to the onslaught as the pleasure and pressure within her entwined and her entire body began to tense.

“Come for me, gorgeous,” he rasped, then rolled her nipple with his tongue again. She gave a sob of pleasure. “Come for me,” he pleaded.

Biting down, she gave in, dropping her head back, no longer able to see him, but without sight, all her other senses rose until it seemed every part of her became a raw, humming nerve, vibrating with pleasure. And that glittering wave rose within her again.

She could feel him move within her, feeling her body reaching, holding him, feeling the steel strength of him under her hands, and against her... but the world no longer existed.

As lights began to twinkle on the edges of her vision and her body shook with sheer desire, as his name broke from her throat again and again, and hers echoed in the cave from his lips, all thought ceased.

She became nothing but a rippling pool, begging for him to enter, crying out when he left-and then, all at once, her belly dropped like she’d leaped from a cliff and she was tumbling into freefall, turning, twisting, no longer sure of up or down-only him. She reached for him, clinging, crying his name as he surrounded her and invaded her, her skin prickling in waves of pleasure as he dropped to cover her.

And then, sucking in a shocked, awed breath, Harth held her mate to her, clinging with arms and legs, as he thrust again and was lost, shuddering and crying, calling for her, all his strength and grace poured over her as he buried his face in her neck and shook.

Her head spun, her pulse thundering in her ears in the silence that reigned after. Harth blinked, trying to breathe, holding him tightly, feeling him shake, as their hearts beat in time, and Harth was almost overcome by tears just for the sheer intensity of the emotions overwhelming her.

“Tarkyn,” she whispered, trembling fingers clawing into his hair as he lifted his head to find her eyes.

“Are you well, Love?” he breathed, his forehead lined with concern.

Harth smiled-she almost laughed at the worry on his face. “I’m well, Tarkyn. I’m so well,” she giggled, smoothing the lines on his face with her thumbs.

Relief washed over him and he smiled, bracing on his elbows again, searching her face.

“You’re laughing at me,” he growled good-naturedly.

She shook her head. “I’m laughing with joy,” she murmured, shaking her head because it was the simple truth. “Just joy, Tarkyn. Because I can’t quite believe it. But I’m just so grateful.”

*****

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