sound, a puff of air against Kalai's exposed skin. When he spoke again, his voice was stronger. “I love you.”
“I love you.” Kalai leaned back letting Tauran take some of his weight. “So what happens now?”
“I don’t know.” Tauran’s lips were warm against Kalai’s neck. They soared past the city wall. Leyra roared a call, and one by one, lights flicked on in the townhouses below. “Now we start again.”
CHAPTER 50
Tauran held the cork of the bottle between his teeth and twisted, a satisfying pop followed by a sizzle as he filled two glasses to the rim, and handed one to Kalai. “To new beginnings,” he said, setting the goldwine bottle aside before joining Kalai on the bed. “And happy dragons.”
Kalai smiled, tapping his glass against Tauran’s with a clink. “Happy dragons.”
When they had returned to the archive the previous night, they had both been bone-deep exhausted. They waded through the mess of books and papers, cleaning just enough that they could fall into bed together and sleep.
They slept late into the morning, Leyra and Arrow resting in the garden. They ate breakfast in bed, and lunch too, after which Tauran decided it was time to take advantage of the first moment of true peace and quiet they’d had in a long time. He fetched two glasses, and the forgotten bottle of goldwine from the downstairs cabinet, refusing to let his mind linger on blackmail and betrayal.
“I thought it was inappropriate to be drinking so early in the day,” Kalai said with an amused smile, tasting the wine.
“Fuck that!” Tauran downed his entire glass before setting it aside. “We nearly died. We deserve to enjoy ourselves exactly how we want.” He smirked, leaning forward. “Speaking of which.”
Kalai yelped a laugh when Tauran wrapped his arm around him and pulled him easily onto his lap, half the wine spilling from Kalai’s glass and onto the sheets. Kalai quickly emptied the rest of his glass, then muffled his laughter against Tauran’s shoulder. “I like where this is going.”
“And this time…” Tauran plucked the glass from Kalai’s hand and sat it aside, then grabbed Kalai’s waist and placed him on his back on the bed. “Nothing will interrupt us.” He bowed his head, folding his lips over Kalai’s throat. “I don’t care…” He gripped the hem of Kalai’s shirt and pulled it over his head. “If the whole world starts burning…” Tossing the shirt aside, he trailed his lips downward. “I’m not leaving this bed...” He curled his tongue around a hard nipple. “Until I’m done with you.”
Kalai gasped sweetly, wrapping his legs around Tauran’s waist, pressing their bodies close. “By the skies, finally,” he sighed, his voice already gorgeously breathless.
Tauran released Kalai reluctantly, yanking his own shirt off and producing the vial of riverweed oil he’d had the brilliant foresight to bring when he fetched the wine.
They slowed, taking their time. The way Tauran had spent the last six months dreaming of doing. He purged thoughts of dead dragons, of the future and uncertainty from his mind, letting Kalai, so beautifully stretched under him, be the center of his world.
It wasn’t perfect. They had to switch positions because Tauran’s leg started complaining. But it didn’t matter. Tauran ended flat on his back, Kalai straddling his lap with his arms locked around the backs of Tauran’s shoulders and their foreheads pressed together. Tauran kissed the dark freckle on Kalai’s cheekbone, but swiftly, because he didn’t want to look away from his eyes. The eyes he could drown in, the eyes he would give up everything for.
They tumbled over the edge of pleasure nearly in sync, clutching each other, declaring their love through gasped breaths, then stayed unmoving for a long time, soaking in their pleasure, roaming tender hands across each other’s bodies.
Eventually, Kalai rolled off him so he could stretch his legs, fitting against Tauran’s side instead. He lifted his head so Tauran could slip his arm underneath. “I’ve never done that before,” Kalai whispered, fingers splaying on Tauran’s chest, cheeks flushing prettily when he smeared the perfect mess he had made.
Tauran smiled, letting his eyes slip closed. Pleasure turned his muscles to jelly, easing the constant dull pain in his leg. “Neither have I,” he murmured, relishing in Kalai’s soft touch. It was true. He had lost count of all the sex he’d had. Carnal, detached, out of boredom, to scratch an itch. But never like this. He smirked.
“What?” Kalai kissed the corner of his mouth, amusement coloring his words.
“I wish I