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Chapter Twenty-Nine

Annora

Time slips away like water through my fingers as Jasce and I talk.

“Remember that time you caught me drawing in the garden?” I trace the lines of his palm, memorizing every callus and scar.

“You were sketching the sunrise,” he says as he threads his fingers through mine. “But you got so lost in your art that you didn’t notice the storm coming.”

“Until you appeared with that ridiculous blanket.”

“It kept you dry, didn’t it?”

“Yes.” I shift against him and change the subject to him. To wanting to carry a piece of his world back with me. “Tell me about your day.”

He describes training with Reeve and Jude, council meetings, and the way the Sharhavva palace feels emptier without me there. And as he continues speaking, his voice rumbles through his chest. I close my eyes, letting the sound wash over me.

“I miss waking up next to you,” I say after a while. “The way you always steal all the blankets.”

“I do not steal them.” He feigns offense, but a smile tugs at his lips. “You’re the one who wraps yourself in them like a cocoon.”

“At least I don’t snore.”

“I don’t snore either.”

“You absolutely do.” I poke his chest. “Like a bear in hibernation.”

He catches my hand and brings it to his lips, brushing a kiss to my knuckles. “I hate that you’re alone in Bakva.”

“I’m not completely alone. I have Tahira and Em—” I stop short, not wanting to burden him with my worries. “Tell me more about Will. Is he still carrying around those wooden warriors you made him?”

“Everywhere.” Pride colors his voice as he talks about his younger brother. “He makes up stories about their adventures.”

“He has such a keen imagination,” I say as I trace the line of Jasce’s jaw. “Have you been sketching?”

“Some. Though lately...” He pulls me closer, his warmth seeping into my bones. “Lately, I find myself drawing you over and over. As if putting you on parchment will somehow bring you back to me.”

I press my face into his neck, breathing in that familiar scent of leather, smoke, and cherry wood. “Sometimes I think about that first night when you stepped into your bedchamber. You were terrifying. All fierce scowls and demands.”

“And now?”

“Now I know better.” I lift my head to meet his gaze. “You’re just a big softie who makes wooden toys for his little brother.”

“Don’t let that get around.” His eyes crinkle at the corners as he smiles. “I have a reputation to maintain.”

“Oh yes, the fearsome chieftain who spends his evenings sketching and playing with children.”

He tugs gently on my hair. “Only certain children.”

“Do you know what I remember most about those early days?” I don’t bother to wait for his response before adding, “That look you always gave me.”

“What look?”

“Like you’re trying not to smile but failing miserably. Like right now.”

“Only you would notice something like that.”

“I notice everything about you. The way your eyes get lighter when you’re happy. How you run your hand through your hair when you’re frustrated. The little furrow between your brows when you’re reading reports.”

“And here I thought I was being subtle.”

“Never.” I smile. “You’re about as subtle as a thunderstorm.”

“Your hands are like leather.” I poke at a particularly thick callus. “Do you punch walls for fun?”

His laugh rumbles through his chest as I trace the rough patches on his palm.

“Those calluses are from training. Though, I’ve been known to punch a wall or two.”

“Only two?”

“Three, but who’s counting?” His tone shifts, turning harder. “Being away from you makes me want to punch more than walls.”

“How much do you need me?” I tease.

“More than I need my next breath.”

“Show me,” I say as I shift in his arms. “Show me how much you need me.”

In a flash, he stands, spins us, and pushes me up against the crystal wall. My heart races as his hands slide up my thighs, bunching my gown as he goes. His fingers graze the sensitive skin of my inner thigh, and I let out a sharp exhale.

Slowly, his fingers inch higher and higher until they brush against my undergarments. I bite my lower lip as he tugs them down.

Anticipation thrums through me as I place my palms against the crystal wall, and he kicks my feet apart. His hands slide up my thighs, over my hips, and around to cup my breasts. He squeezes, his thumbs brushing over my nipples, and sending a jolt of pleasure straight to my core.

“Jasce,” I gasp, my head falling back against his shoulder.

One hand slides back down, delving between my thighs and touching me.

“You’re so wet for me, Annora,” he says. “So ready.”

He pulls back long enough to remove his clothes, then he spins me around and pulls me into his arms. I straddle his hips as he enters me in one long, deep stroke.

I meet each of his thrusts, rolling my body to take him deeper. It’s instinctual, the way my body moves with his, the way I lean back to give him a more inviting angle.

I love the way he fills me, the way he possesses me so completely. It’s as if he’s claiming what’s his, and I want to be claimed. I want him to brand me as his, to leave his mark on my body.

With his full length buried deep inside me, he slams me against the wall. The sensation sends a shock of pleasure through me, and I welcome the force, the assertiveness of his movements as he thrusts harder and faster.

We move as one, a perfect synchronization of desire and need. He thrusts. I roll my hips. He growls. I cry out. He nips. I moan.

“That’s it,” he says, his words sparking a flare of heat low in my belly. “Move with me.” His hands move to my hips, guiding me, controlling the rhythm. “You like that, don’t you? You like being mine.”

“Yes,” I gasp.

He nips at the sensitive skin of my neck. “Say it.”

“I’m yours.”

“That’s my good girl.”

The coil inside me snaps as I shatter around him. My back arches. My nails dig into his shoulders.

Jasce’s lips find mine in a searing kiss that steals what little breath I have left. His tongue sweeps into my mouth, claiming me completely as the last tremors of pleasure ripple through me.

With a final, deep stroke, he finds his release, his body shuddering against mine.

We stay like that for a moment, our bodies still joined, our breaths coming in ragged gasps.

He cups my face and speaks in a husky voice. “I love you, Annora. I love you so damn much.”