Page 68 of A Flame of the Phoenix (An Heir Comes to Rise #6)

CHAPTER SIXTY-SEVEN

Tarly

T arly had offered to take another room in the castle, but Nerida had asked him to stay with her, and he couldn’t be more glad for it.

Nerida wasn’t her usual self. He didn’t expect her to be. Her smiles were hollow compared to their usual brightness. Her eyes had lost their sparkle. She was still so selfless though, not voicing her upset and even trying to be cheerful, but it was all an act.

He could hardly bear it.

He’d requested the bath be filled, and Nerida sat at the vanity, removing pins from her hair. Tarly reached for the brush before she did, straddling the bench sideways beside her and silently coaxing her to turn. He found such solace even in their shared silence. Every touch and look spoke more between them than words could sometimes.

Tarly began brushing through the tangled locks of her freed braids with gentle precision. Her thick, curly silver tresses were one of his most favorite things in the world. They were both in need of a hot bath, and he was eager at the mere thought.

“You don’t have to be so brave. You’re allowed to be angry,” he said carefully.

“Anger is an emotion that will only exhaust me and push away those around me. And I need you.”

Tarly sighed in such contentment at those last words. His new favorite sentence in every language.

He swept her loose hair to the side, planting a kiss to her neck. Then he set down the brush, boldly reaching for the ties at the back of her tunic. Her head inclined to the side more, prompting him to trail his lips from the shell of her ear back down to the base of her throat, and Nerida gave a soft sigh of pleasure. He was aching for her.

“We don’t have to do anything tonight,” he said huskily.

“I want a distraction. I want something… good .”

He was conflicted to hear that, wanting to oblige and help her in any way he could. But this was far more to him than a distraction, and he wanted to be far more to her.

With her tunic loose, Nerida stood, slipping the sleeves off her shoulders and letting it drop. He’d seen her in undergarments long before now, but there was a new spark of intimacy between them that painted this picture in a new ravenous light.

Nerida peeled out of her leather pants, keeping her eyes on him, and a twinkle of desire danced across the hazel.

“Are you going to join me in the bath?”

His heart slammed. “Is that what you want?”

Nerida turned, heading for the washroom. She pulled her top undergarment off as she did, dropping it to the floor. Then her lower half followed. He was utterly, foolishly transfixed by the sight of her naked flesh, the firelight casting a soft glow over her beautiful brown skin.

“I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t want it,” she said—a soft whisper of seduction as she disappeared into the washroom.

Tarly had to take a moment to believe this was real.

He removed his jacket before he reached the open door and watched her climb into the steaming, deep oval tub as he pulled his shirt over his head. His hands undid his pants button and pulled the laces as Nerida drifted around the bath to face him. Their eyes held on each other, and he’d never experienced this intensity of desire building without a single touch before.

“You are so beautiful,” he whispered like a slipped thought. Though it didn’t feel like even close to an adequate description of the Goddess he stared at.

Tarly removed his pants, and Nerida’s eyes wandered over him. Her full lips parted, and he was growing lightheaded with the lust she was inspiring with no words at all.

The hot, milky water lapped around his waist, and he closed his eyes with the bliss of it, wondering when the last time was he’d bathed in warm waters was, never mind this heat.

“Much better than the lake,” he commented.

Nerida’s precious giggle slipped his eyes open, and he couldn’t believe the angel in his bath. Tarly took her hand, coaxing her to turn and relax her back against him. Taking a bowl from the side, he began to pour water over her scalp as she tipped her had back for him.

“When you said you wanted to be mine…did you mean it in the sense of the bond being real?” he asked gently.

Nerida danced her fingertips along the water’s surface. “That’s likely not going to happen,” she said with quiet reservation.

“Would you want to try?”

Nerida turned around, her wet lashes glistening, making her irises sparkle. “Yes,” she said, her whispering voice needy.

Tarly’s length became so hard it was painful.

He claimed her mouth, and she deepened the kiss immediately. Much as he wanted her with a feverish need, it was Nerida who demanded more, all at once. Straddling him, moving her hips against him. The water sloshed over the sides of the tub, but he didn’t care. If she needed this for her pain, he would let her have whatever she wanted of him. As much as she wanted. For however long she would yearn for him.

Tarly lifted her out of the bath, turning and setting her on the edge of it, with her feet touching the ground for balance. He lowered between her legs, and Nerida’s breaths sharpened in anticipation.

Tasting her brought out the most beautiful noise. He would never tire of discovering all the sounds she would make and how her body demanded his touch.

“Tarly…”

His name in her breathy tone of pure lust tightened in his core. He wanted her so desperately he devoured her mercilessly to compensate for not being inside her yet. Nerida’s fingers threaded through his hair, and he turned wild at the movement of her hips that demanded even more from him. She was close to finishing, but he worried about the slipperiness of the tub and her wet skin if she did so here.

With great restraint, Tarly stopped his assault, and Nerida whimpered, shuddering from the cool air against her skin and the denial of finishing. He kissed the inside of her thigh and rose, hooking an arm around her and lifting her to wrap her legs around him.

Nerida kissed him deeply as he carried her into the bedroom. She was utterly his . No matter what the outcome of trying to bond with her might be, she was undeniably made for him. The way she kissed him with a passion he’d never felt before, touching far deeper than the surface of lust and pleasure. She’d burrowed into his soul.

He laid her down, the sheets sticking to their skin, but he was too lost in her to care. Within seconds Nerida’s leg had hooked around him, flipping them for her to be on top. He loved this wild, dominant side that came out of her in lust. In front of everyone else, she was so gentle, almost shy, and presented as so innocent. Alone, only Tarly got to see the unleashing of all her passion, and she gave it all to him. Only him.

Nerida took what she needed, grinding along his length that was almost as glorious as he imagined being fully inside her. He let her take lead, chasing her pleasure against him as he watched in complete awe. She was a Goddess. All beautiful wet silver hair against glistening brown skin, face painted in pure pleasure. She sat up, not stopping her movements, but she touched her body. Groping her breasts, eyes closed and head tipped back, with breathy moans caressing her throat.

Tarly was utterly entranced by her—he could hardly move. His hands on her hips pressed her down harder, and she cried out beautifully. His thrusts were shallow, but mostly, it was all her, claiming her pleasure.

Gods above. What had he done so right in his life to have this? Every trial and torment was worth reliving over and over to get to have her.

“Tarly, I’m going to…” She lost her words, but they were pinched on her face. Her hands planted on his chest, and he helped her rock harder toward that finish line.

Watching Nerida climax was an otherworldly experience. She quivered against him, crying out his name and blessing it with new meaning. He would crawl on broken bones to the call of his name from her.

Nerida panted, shivering in the aftermath of her climax. Tarly tucked the wet hair from her face. Her eyes were fixed on his neck, and her fingers traced along his collarbone.

“Can I try first?” she asked breathlessly.

Tarly’s length jutted against her at the mere thought of her biting him.

“Yes,” he said thickly.

Nerida leaned down, and his chest constricted so tightly in anticipation he thought he might stop breathing. She seduced him with so little effort. Nerida’s soft lips pressed to his chest, slowly climbing higher, while he lost his damned mind.

His hands ran up her spine and over her sides, basking in every naked feel of her.

Nerida kissed his throat right where she would puncture it—then, to his surprise, she reached between their bodies, lifted her hips, and gripped his length to sink down onto it.

Tarly swore, seeing stars as her heat wrapped around him inch by torturous inch.

“Wait,” he rasped before she could bite. Embarrassment flushed him. “If you do that right this second, I won’t be able to last.”

Nerida smiled coyly. She began to move her hips but held off biting him.

Tarly couldn’t take it anymore. He sat up, then he stood with her. All he knew was that he wanted the control now, and so he pressed her back to the wall and set a pace that had their moans of pleasure mixing between their breaths. Nothing had ever felt this raw and real. So damn perfect and right he claimed her in every sense, even if the bond wasn’t to be.

“I really want to,” she rasped, clutching a tight fist of his hair while her lips hovered at his neck.

“Do it,” he said, not slowing his pace that rocked the pictures on the wall and likely announced to anyone passing in the hall what they were doing.

Nerida needed nothing more. “I claim you, Tarly Wolverlon. Here, now, and always, I claim you with the Gods as my witness and with this by my will.”

Her teeth punctured his flesh, and Tarly slammed into her, stilling with the shockwave that ripped him apart only to sew the ribbons of him back together, forged into something united and unbreakable.

Was this the mating bond? He didn’t want to believe it so surely. Perhaps it was only his desperation for it. Exchanging blood was a powerful connection in itself.

Nerida’s teeth slipped out of him, and she shuddered. Tarly let go of her thighs for her to stand, but he kept a firm hold of her. She didn’t speak—he couldn’t either. He was wrestling a carnal need for her that could only act. Tarly kissed her feverishly and then spun her around.

“Keep your hands firm on the wall, angel,” he said huskily.

Tarly spread her legs a little further before he was back inside her. Leaning over her back, he took her in slow, full strokes that pulled the most beautiful sounds from her. His hand massaged her breast before slipping up and around her throat for purchase.

He kissed her shoulder and swept back her hair.

“My turn,” he muttered, then he sank his teeth into her.

Nerida’s blood on his tongue erupted his world, flowing down his throat and severing who he was before her. Nerida’s blood within him bound his soul and swore a promise of who he would become for her. Only her.

His released surged through every fiber and cell of his body. Nerida came with him. Their bodies melted into each other from the heat and sweat and water. Their souls entwined with each other, and when Tarly stopped drinking from her…he couldn’t believe it.

“You’re mine,” he said to her thoughts. Because now he could. “The bond is real,” he said aloud.

Before, he’d thought it was just their time spent together that had kept her in tune with her emotions, but now he could feel them more intensely. She was completely open to him.

Nerida didn’t speak, and her silence began to gather dread. He pulled out of her, turning her around, and found her crying. Tarly panicked, taking her face in her hands.

“You said?—”

“I’m happy,” she said, barely a whisper, as if emotion had filled her throat. “I’m the happiest I’ve been in a long time.”

Tarly deflated with relief. He kissed her. Kissed his mate. This angel who wanted him as much as he wanted her, and now their souls were written in the stars.

He walked backward with her by the hand until he sat on the bed, and she straddled him. Tarly brushed her tears and kissed her. He would never get enough of kissing her.

“I love you so much that those words are pitiful to express it,” he said.

That pulled a soft chuckle from her, and she sniffed. “This is the first time I’ve belonged anywhere, Tarly. I love you endlessly.”

“You belong with me,” he declared. “In every universe, you belong with me.”