Threads of Desire (Spellcraft) - By Stone, Eleri Page 0,15
her. Dropping his head to her shoulder, he groaned like he was somehow disappointed which was silly, they’d both found pleasure. Her arms came around his shoulders.
They stayed like that for a long time. Him resting inside her. Sweat cooling their bodies. Their breath slowed and steadied. She could have stayed like that until sleep took them both, but eventually he lifted his face to kiss her. A gentle press of his mouth, nearly tender. She tightened on his softening cock and his laugh trembled on her lips.
He rolled off her and she turned her back to him.
“Ily?” He touched his cheek to her shoulder, an expectant tension in the silence that she didn’t know how to answer.
“Kal.”
A long pause. He measured words the way she measured thread, testing them for weakness before casting them into the weave. “You are a wonder.”
She smiled because he couldn’t see it, warmth welling up from her chest and threatening to smother her. His hand skated down her flank and she caught it, pulling his arm around her like a blanket.
She kissed his wrist and folded his hand between her breasts. A man like Kal wouldn’t need reassurance and his head was large enough as it was. “You are a singular man.”
His laughter sounded even more wicked coming from the darkness. “Something about the way you say that makes me think you’re grateful that it’s so.”
Another thought occurred to her, something she hadn’t considered he might not know. “I won’t conceive. The magic...it makes us sterile.”
All of her other lovers had been artists like herself. She’d never had to explain that to another, though it was hardly secret knowledge. As much as she’d like to think she was a mature and daring woman of the world, these practicalities eluded her.
He settled behind her, curving his body around hers like a dragon guarding his treasure. “Yes, I know.”
His breath stirred the small hairs at the back of her neck. This is what she’d wanted, to be clean and warm. To be safe for the night and not alone.
Chapter Six
He woke her before dawn, rolling her onto her back and pressing a kiss to both corners of her mouth. He smiled when she opened her eyes and then dropped a kiss to her nose as well. Gray light filtered into the room from the high windows, three of them lining the far wall, cross set circles with clear glass insets. Funny, she’d always imagined his bedroom as a lair, dark and sinfully dangerous. Strange to find sunlight here.
“You were snoring.”
“I was not,” she said indignantly. Well, as indignantly as she could manage while wiping a line of drool from her chin. If he noticed, which he surely did, he didn’t comment.
Instead of settling his magnificent body on top of hers as she expected, he propped himself on an elbow, wrapped his free hand around her waist and snuggled her body tight to his. “Don’t worry, I didn’t mind. It was sweet, soft and feminine. Proof that you’re human after all.”
She rolled her eyes. He was an ass even at dawn, and a cheerful one at that. She never woke up smiling. “What else would I be?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Some divine creature wandered into our world.”
“Do you say that to all the women you bring to your bed? You should tell them that before you sleep with them not after you’ve already had them.”
His smile fixed and he traced her collarbone with his fingertip. “If there are rules, I’d like to hear them. I’ve never invited a woman to share my bed.”
Her breath hitched and she studied his profile. His head was bent, eyes tracking the movement of his hand. “You’re not inexperienced.”
“I have other rooms for guests, dozens of them.”
“Are there guests in them now?”
“No.” He tipped his head to one side. “You’re jealous. The first time I saw you in the marketplace, I thought you reminded me of a starfallen goddess stranded here by punishment or fate. And that was before I stopped to examine your work. You never belonged there.”
She didn’t say anything, and after he placed an open mouthed kiss to the side of her throat, he continued. “As soon as I saw your work, I knew. Of course, I knew.” His voice took on a wondering tone. “A master weaver in the open market, the Southton market, stranger than one of the fallen, I think.”
His lips nibbled at the sensitive spot below her ear and continued along her jaw.