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She let out a strangled cry as he worked her, his touch as perfect as always. Gods, she needed to move. To touch him. To kiss him. But the arm at her waist slid upward until his hand curled around the base of her throat, his hold keeping her tight against his chest. He really did mean for her to yield. To prove that after everything, she trusted him with her body still.

Every bit of her felt like pure fire, but for a moment, she resisted. Releasing herself entirely to his control…could she do it? He could cut off her air with a shift of his hand, but that wasn’t the greatest threat. No, the real danger was the wreckage he could make of her heart. Had she truly forgiven him enough for this kind of trust?

“I love you, Tes,” he whispered in her ear.

His tone said truth, but it was the emotion streaming through them both that she finally believed. “I love you, too,” she said, her body relaxing against his.

Ber’s low, satisfied growl rumbled through her. “Then come for me.”

He pinched her nub between his fingers and stroked downward. That pressure combined with the slide of fabric tipped her over the edge, and she cried out as her entire body went taut with her release. But it wasn’t enough. No, still she burned.

“Ber—”

“I know, love.”

Nudging her legs against the bed, Ber abruptly released her, only to press her down against the mattress. Her eyes widened at the feel of his legs pressing hers against the bed and of his hand between her shoulder blades, pinning her in place. But there was no place for fear. Somehow, there was love in the firmness of his touch, and she knew he would stop immediately if she asked.

He tugged at her sleeping gown until she felt only cool air against the heated skin of her bottom. “Spread your legs,” he commanded.

Tes didn’t waste time with hesitation. As she shifted her stance, fabric rustled behind her, but she couldn’t see what her husband was doing. Not in her current position. Her breath hitched in suspense, and her body heated to new levels. Was he the one hesitating?

“Don’t move,” Ber said, his voice tight with strain.

His hand left her back, but before she could protest, he gripped her thighs and boosted her lower body higher.

Only then did he finally claim her.

Ber threw his head back,overwhelmed by the perfect joy of being surrounded by her—his precious wife. Though he’d taken her before dinner, this…ah, this was different. She’d given him her complete trust, and that was a gift beyond the joining itself. For a moment, he could only stand there, buried to the hilt. Savoring her surrender.

She tried to shift her hips, and he chuckled, his gaze falling to her body stretched out before him. He longed to trace the line of her spine and brush her tousled hair away from her face, but he couldn’t. Not the way he held her. Right now, he was her only support, and if he let her go, she would flounder.

“Have you grown stronger?” she gasped out. “You can’t possibly—”

“I assure you that I can.” He smiled at her shiver. “Without you in Centoi, I spent far more time training. I’ll hold you like this as long as I wish.”

Proving his point, he tightened his grip and withdrew slowly—then shoved home again. But her sharp little cry drew his balls up tight and threatened his control. He might be able to support her like this, but he wasn’t sure he could hold himself steady.

“Please,” Tes moaned. “Please. I need you.Need.”

One word, and he snapped. His Tes would have whatever she wanted, and she wanted him.

And so, he gave.

Chapter 39

Preparations

When Tes stirred to wakefulness, sunlight from the nearby window warmed her skin, but the sheets beside her were cold. Lifting her head, she searched the room for her husband. Not here. She didn’t sense his energy nearby, either. Just how late was it? Usually, she was in the nursery by now, caring for her son.

She stretched her senses to the nursery across the hall, and there she found them both—Ber was with Speran. Lightness flooded her, along with a love so profound that she could barely contain it. There was hope for their family. They needed only to fight for it, and everything could be theirs.

Not that it would be easy—but she was too happy to dwell on that.

Her body was deliciously sore, her every movement a reminder of the night she’d had with Ber. As she made her way to the bathing chamber, her thighs trembled, and her core hummed with a lovely pleasure-ache. How many times had they made love after she’d yielded to him the first time? She’d been far too wonderfully engaged to count.

Even her breasts ached a little as she washed them, though he’d dutifully avoided them. How long would it take for her milk to fully dry up? It was an annoyance, this pain with no purpose. She would have to ask the healer if there was a way to dry up her milk quickly. There could be a spell for it, or so she hoped. It wasn’t something she wanted to deal with during the pending conflict.

But she had two weeks to prepare for that.