Page 157 of A Cursed Son

His chuckle is light, happy, relaxed, and he kisses my throat, then moves his hands to my thigh, in slow caresses, a fiery magical touch of his fingers igniting something inside me. He kisses my collarbone in slow, adoring kisses that make me feel I’m precious. A loving energy surrounds us, that same energy that was faint in our wedding, now bindings us together. How could I ever doubt it was real?

I feel his lips on my breast, his hand cupping it, the graze of his rings against the soft skin sending a rush of pleasure down my body. When his warm mouth takes my nipple, I’m undone. I close my eyes, taken by the sensation of his body against mine, of his hands trailing my skin, of his tongue… There’s nothing but here and this feeling, this moment, this eternity condensed in kisses, whispers, and so many tender caresses.

I bury my fingers in his soft curls, while the tip of his hair caresses my chest, right above my fluttering, content heart.

His kisses trail my stomach, and then his lips reach my core, the twirl of his tongue a spark igniting a fire inside me.

“Marlak,” I whisper.

His chuckle is warm and comforting, its low rumble vibrating throughout my body, a powerful wave of pleasure tearing down all my remaining walls. His lips and fingers and tongue are magical. A healing, renewing touch, an enchanted fire shattering me from the inside, uncoiling me.

I’m here, lying on an ancient bed, and I’m also floating above clouds. I’m here, under my husband, and I’m the entire universe. I’m lost and found in his touch.

And yet I want more. I want him.

“Marlak.” My voice is a rasped breath, a plea, a prayer. There’s fire in my lower belly, a fire that’s about to explode. “I want you.” I don’t know how I even gain my voice. “Inside me,” I moan, because I can’t form coherent sounds anymore.

The kiss he gives me down there is soft, gentle. It’s loving, cherishing, adoring. I understand now what he means, understand what he’s doing. It’s for me, not for him. But I want him.

“Marlak,” I whisper, and I’m rewarded with that lovely low chuckle that always speeds up my heart, always reverberates through my body.

He moves up again, his hands trailing my skin slowly, until his chest is against mine, his dark eyes so wonderful looking at me.

“Are you sure?” His voice is soft, breathless, sweet.

Silly, happy laughter escapes me and I nod, then I wrap my arms and legs around him, as if to keep him as close as possible, as if my body wants to make sure that he’s indeed mine, wants to press as much of my skin against his as possible.

He pinches my nose, then kisses my cheeks, my chin, my lips. Soft, fast kisses. Loving kisses.

And then I feel it: the tip of his member against my entrance, teasing, caressing it. I raise my hips and feel a part of him inside me, then slowly going deeper and deeper. He’s careful, giving my body time to open up and make room for him, gentle, so that there’s not a tinge of pain. Slowly he enters me—until he’s all mine.

Our eyes meet and my heart pauses.

We’re one. Together. In real life.

He moves his hips back, then thrusts slowly, and we rock back and forth together in a soothing, hypnotizing motion. It feels good to have him inside me, filling me, to feel the warmth of his skin against mine.

My heels are crossed over his back as we move together, his hair caressing my neck and collarbone. My body and his are one, moving like the up and down of a river current, or the movements of clouds. Perhaps we’re leaves rustling in the wind, or the movement of day and night. Back and forth, the way it should always have been. Back and forth, because it’s who we truly are. Back and forth, together at last.

His hands move down to my lower back, to my hips, claiming me, those beautiful hands I love so much, their firm touch sending a brilliant energy to my entire body.

I can’t believe how much I wanted him, how much I still want him, so much want that seems to come from a bottomless pool the size of the universe.

He kisses my ear, my neck, my breasts, while I run my hands over his back, his soft skin warm against my fingers.

I never imagined sex could be so tender, so loving, so sweet—not even in the wonderful dreams with him. It’s as if the cords uniting souls no longer have to strain from being apart, so they just envelop us in a loving light.

From slow and steady, our movements speed up to urgent, frantic. I feel as if there’s fire inside me, some magical fire about to burst and consume everything—except that this fire heals, and never burns. I want him more and more. I want everything.

Each of his thrusts is a burst of sensation, a torrent of pleasure, a rush of power. We move faster and faster, speeding like the blood in our veins, our bodies becoming one pulsing heart. A frantic, furious heart, furious that it had to wait this long to exist.

Above me, Marlak’s breath is ragged, his movements unbridled. I love to feel him claiming me with so much urgency and want, plunging into me without restraint, thrusting like a deranged animal. There’s something powerful about seeing him losing control.

Control. There’s nothing to control. There’s nothing, in fact. And then I’m gone. I’m nowhere and everywhere, nothing and everything. But I’m not alone. He’s with me, within me, around me. We’re bound free.

Around us, there’s nothing but stars. And light, so much light uniting us, binding us, so much light around us. All my muscles are loose, all my thoughts are gone. I’m in my body and outside it. Perhaps we have both become pure light, and it’s not that I can sense it illuminating us, but that I have become it.

From that state of pure contentment and bliss, it’s hard to come back, to look at the world again, and yet I open my eyes and see his gorgeous face, his magnificent smile. He kisses my lips and caresses my hair, then stares at me with those brilliant eyes. Loving eyes, like a balm to my heart, filling it with a warm, comforting feeling.