Senan takes me by the shoulders, his thumbs sweeping along my bare skin. “Turn around.”
I do as he says, my stomach clenching and breathing shallow. His warmth presses close as his mouth meets my scar. “You are as beautiful today as you were in that market. These are not marks of weakness but proof of your strength.” Another kiss. Another promise. “And if I were in the human realm, I would carve out the heart of every last man who hurt you.”
Those men are dead, and ruminating on their terrible deeds only exhumes them from their shallow graves. This is no longer a day for looking back. No longer a day for looking forward.
This is a day for now.
So I turn to face my love, lace my hands in his hair, and tug him down. I don’t know who falls first or how it happens, but we end up on the softest carpet of grass, Senan hovering over me, silhouetted by the sun that does, indeed, shine. My legs lock around his hips, dragging him against my aching center. My hammering heart pounds when I feel him swelling once more, straining against his trousers.
My nails bite into his shoulders each time his teeth nip along my jaw. My throat. My collarbone.
This isn’t about making love. This is about taking for ourselves what fate and the stars stole from us. There is still so much left unsaid, but my desire for more drowns out everything else.
Senan lets go to slip his hands up my thighs, catching the waistband of my undergarments and tugging them off. Bracing my weight on my heels, I lift my hips, making it easier for him to drag the white cotton down my thighs and toss them next to our abandoned picnic.
Senan’s hair tickles my cheek, my chest, as he trails burning kisses down to my breasts. “More beautiful than I remember,” he murmurs, capturing one stiff peak between his lips.
I claw at his hair, wanting him closer. Needing him inside me.
His playful tongue teases one breast, then the other. One hand envelopes mine above my head as he braces his weight on his elbow. His other hand locks around my hip, holding me in place as he grinds into me until I’m sure to combust.
His trousers are still on. Why are they still on? “Remove your trousers.”
“I seem to recall promising to make you pay for a certain splashing incident.” Those lips trail lower, and his tongue dips into my navel on his way down, down, down.
“Senan, please.”
His eyes fill with dark promise as he looks up at me and his scarred palms meet my knees. “Show me how wide these go.” He urges my legs apart, leaving me bare and spread for him. “That’s my girl.”
I expect him to remove his trousers and give me what I crave. Instead, he eases forward and flattens his tongue against where I ache most. Something between a moan and a gasp falls from my lips. My hips buck involuntarily. I don’t know if I want to press him closer or shy away until my mate finds my core with a very,veryinsistent tongue and blackness swarms the edge of my vision.
He is a man possessed, never straying, wholly focused, until my legs, still splayed, begin to tremble and I’m about to burst. I don’t want to fly alone. I want to fly with him.
“Stop,” I breathe. He keeps going and my eyes roll back in my head and— “Stop.”
His mouth departs from my flesh, his gaze lifting, brows arched.
“I need you inside me.”
He drags a hand across his mouth, clearing the wetness from his lips, and smirks down at me as he unfastens his trousers and shoves them down his strong thighs covered in a light dusting of dark hair.
His stiff cock springs free.
A Pegasus, indeed.
His eyes stay locked on mine while he fists himself and strokes. “Is this what you want, wife?”
I replace his hand with my own, curling my fingers around his solid shaft. “Yes. Don’t make me come alone.”
A deep, feral growl rumbles in his chest when I urge him forward, swiping the head of his cock against my soaked folds. With one long, slow thrust, he is fully seated, stealing the air from my lungs and every thought from my head.
“A perfect fit,” he rasps against the shell of my ear, sending tingles down my spine.
He spoke those exact same words the first time we made love, before I understood how my body could accommodate the sheer size of him. “A perfect fit,” I agree, the final word becoming a moan when he starts to move, hitting deep over and over. Our bodies collide with reckless abandon, filling the perfumed air with an orchestra of whimpers and moans.
“Yes.” I cling to his shoulders, holding on as he sets a demanding pace, taking and giving, pleasure with pain. He finds my clit with his thumb, flicking and pressing, bringing me ever closer to the sky. “Senan….”
His eyes become molten, dark and dangerous. “Louder.”