of the curse on my back. Trails of sparking sensation rose. I was beyond thinking, and he cupped my face with his hands, his light kisses jolting me. I was going to die. It was that simple. One person could not hold this much.
“Oh, God. Trent. The couch,” I whispered, and his grip tightened. “The couch,” I insisted until Trent held me tighter and lifted. My arms went around his neck and my legs tightened about his waist, and he shuffled to the couch, sighing as he eased me down and his weight covered me. I wedged a foot into his slacks and pushed to free his feet. With a tug, he did the same for me.
The sudden freedom raced through me like fire, and I pulled him lower, arching up to find him. I needed him. Now. I wanted to feel him move within me, to move with him. But he wouldn’t let me, and as I ran my hand over him, he dropped his head to find my breast again. Sensation arched through me with his every pull, and I groaned softly, feeling him against me. Again I traced the lines I’d painted on his back, and he shuddered, his breath coming fast. In a sudden motion, he pinned my hand to the couch and found my mouth with his. I met him with my own desire.
Our breaths twined and our motions against each other became more certain. Reaching down, I guided him closer. My breath escaped me in a moan as he slipped inside me to his full length in one satisfying motion. I gasped, and his hands found mine, holding them down as we moved together with a rhythm older than the curse echoing our every move.
“Oh, God, now,” I whispered, straining, and it tripped Trent over the edge. Groaning, he deepened his motion, sending fulfillment crashing through us. I shuddered, my hands springing from his light grip to pull him deeper, closer as I climaxed, wave after slow wave seeming to echo as they built one upon the other, over and over, until they finally died away, leaving us exhausted.
And then there were just the rasping of our breaths, his fingers twined in my hair, and the knowledge that Trent wasn’t really the calm, collected businessman he showed the world, but that the demons were right. He was an elf, ruthless and savage, his needs as demanding as my own. If he didn’t love me, he’d use and discard me with no thought. But he did love me, and my soul resonated with the knowledge. He loved me, and I knew to the bottom of my being that he’d turn that same ruthlessness toward ruining the world if it meant I would be safe.
Spent, I blinked at Trent, loving the way he looked above me, loving the way he felt atop and in me. How could I ever leave him? I thought, my fingers tracing a line of ink.
“Wow,” Trent rasped, and I laughed. “Hey, watch it!” he protested at the sudden clenching of my inner muscles, and I pulled him closer, not wanting him to leave. There was the small issue that he couldn’t leave yet. Maybe in a few minutes. Trent had never complained, but it was still a source of embarrassment for me. By the looks of things, it might be a while.
“Don’t ever leave me,” I said, playing with the tips of his pointy ears, and he shifted his weight, putting all of it on the flat of one arm so he could catch my hand and kiss my fingertips.
“Promise,” he said, but as our breathing slowed and my thoughts turned introspective, I wondered if anyone would bother to check on us if we spent the night here, encircled by the strength of the ley lines and our love for each other.
CHAPTER
29
The sound of pixy wings pulled through me, stirring me awake. My eyes opened to the dim, increasingly familiar lines of Trent’s room and his sparse, smooth-lined furniture. A fading line of pixy dust showed where Jenks had been, but he was gone now, and I smiled, feeling hungry and loved, but mostly loved. Trent’s arm was over me, heavy and secure. After having fallen asleep on his mom’s couch, we’d stumbled back through the fireplace sometime after sunset to find Trent’s bed. The clock on the side table and the light leaking in from around the curtains on the window wall said it was now just after sunrise.