Page 82 of Apples Dipped in Gold

She smiled at me, but there was no humor in her eyes or in what she said. “You are a beautiful man,” she said. “But you are very stupid.”

I frowned. “I am telling you that I do not want to live in a world where I do not love you.”

“I know what you are saying,” she said. “But you do not seem to understand the point. You still believe your love for me is a curse, which is why we must continue to the wishing tree.”

“Why does it matter? I love you now,” I said, frustrated.

“It matters because you are afraid of what comes after the wish is made,” she said, and then she moved suddenly, shifting into my lap. She wound her arms around my neck, her breasts pressed against my chest, and I tilted my head back to hold her gaze. “But I am not afraid. I am not afraid at all.”

Then her mouth was on mine, and something inside me broke open. It was like all the hope I’d locked away within me was suddenly free, pouring into every part of my body, and for the first time since I’d started this journey, I thought that perhaps I had a chance at true love, but with that feeling rose doubt.

“I failed you,” I said, breaking our kiss. “I should never have sent you away last night.”

“Nothing would have happened if I had listened to the fox,” she said.

“It is not about whether you listened,” I said. “I chose the quest over you.”

Samara’s brows lowered. “Do you really believe that?” she asked.

I was surprised she didn’t.

“You would never have sent me into that cottage if you thought I was unsafe,” she said. “I know that to be true.”

It wasn’t untrue, certainly.

“It was not fair to you,” I said. “I should have kept you at my side, I should have made love to you all night.”

“Should have, would have,” she said. “There is nothing for you to do except make up for it tonight.”

I shook my head, wondering how I had been given such a gift.

“You are incredible,” I said.

“I love you,” she said, as if she were answering why.

Our lips collided, and I let my hands side up her thighs and beneath her dress. I gripped her ass and pulled her over my arousal.

She pushed me down into the flowers with a firm hand on my chest but did not follow. I stared up at her with a raised brow.

“Samara,” I said.

“Yes?” she asked, grinding against my cock.

I let out a hissing breath. “I want to be inside you.”

She laughed.

“Do you find pleasure in my torture?” I asked.

She made another breathless sound and then bent to kiss my chest.

“No, but I fear I am being selfish tonight,” she said. “For I very much desire to taste you as you tasted me.”

I groaned and felt my cock tighten a little more, her body grazing me as she kissed down my stomach. It took everything to keep still as she unlaced the ties of my trousers. I distracted myself by removing my prosthetic. It was easier to move without it, but also, my stump was far softer.

My arousal sprang free and the cool air was a welcome relief, but not for long, because soon Samara’s hand was wrapped around me, and her thumb was teasing the crown of my cock.

“I should have known from the start you were a siren,” I said.