Page 22 of The Fire Apprentice (Sylvania #5)

J ane woke in silence , warm and snuggled against Rowan in a cocoon of softness. His chest expanded into hers and back with his slow, steady heartbeat. The curve of his shoulder was visible over her head so the ceiling lights must be faintly burning even if she could not see them.

What time was it? What day? How did the fairies even know when to sleep or wake, living without the sun down here? However long it had been, she should get back to Woods Rest to deal with the situation she’d left for Maryanne. But skies she’d rather just lie here with Rowan and smell his comforting scent. Maybe she could fall back to sleep and not have to decide if she should get moving or not.

Only now she was breathing in Rowan’s scent and rubbing the tip of her nose against his skin. His hot, bare skin, pressed against her forehead and against her shoulder where his heavy arm lay over her. And she was starting to want him.

Drat. She would not wake Rowan merely to slake her own desires. The poor man had been awake for three nights. He’d been kidnapped and beaten. He needed his rest.

She closed her eyes and willed herself back to sleep. Her clothing itched. Why hadn’t she shed her dress before they’d lain down to sleep? She couldn’t do it now without disturbing him. A shirt, maybe, but not a whole dress.

Maybe she could free her legs. She wiggled a hand free of the blankets and slid it down to her hip, where she gathered the fabric of her skirt and slowly pulled it up. The soft blanket caressed her knees and lifted to allow her to twine her legs into Rowan—who still had his trousers on. Jane quietly sighed. She had to wait for him to wake.

A light winked on overhead.

She tipped her face up to regard it. It twinkled back.

“Can you shine,” she mouthed in the barest whisper, “a little brighter?” Maybe if the lights woke him slowly, waking him wouldn’t be such a selfish thing to do. And it wouldn’t be her waking him. It would be the lights.

A few more lights glowed above them. The light gleamed on Rowan’s jaw near her forehead. His breathing shifted slightly.

She grinned up at the lights. “Thank you,” she whispered.

Rowan’s hand caught her head and his thumb stroked her cheek before tangling in her hair. “What are you doing?” he murmured in a sleep-drugged voice.

“Talking to the lights.”

He didn’t let her go but a stretch ran through his body, tightening and releasing. The arm beneath her shifted and the one in her hair moved in some unidentifiable pattern. “Did you sleep?”

“Yes. I’m sorry I woke you with my talking.”

“You woke me with your squirming.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s a nice thing to wake to.” The hand in her hair was still moving. Stirring her hair, among other things.

She wiggled herself up the cot to see his face. The semidarkness hid his bruised skin, but the cut on his lower lip showed. She reached up to touch it. “Does it hurt?” she asked.

“Not enough to stop me from wanting to kiss you.”

Jane smiled and caught his face in her hand as he leaned down. His kiss was soft, but he’d always been a soft kisser even when he wasn’t injured. Her fingers fell away to land on his chest. He didn’t shift her body around or press her for more, only kept on kissing her. Well, his hand was stroking down her back. And when it curved over her bottom, she pressed into him. His fingers reached the hem of her dress and found the bare skin at the back of her thighs. He stopped there and his hand cupped around her leg and squeezed.

He was awake. She could get this dress off without guilt.

“I had bitter tea yesterday,” she whispered between kisses. “We could, um...”

“We could what?” He kissed her again.

“You know.”

“I do.” Another kiss. “Is that what you want us to do?” He paused and waited.

“It’s...” Jane hesitated. She didn’t want to disappoint him. But she didn’t want to lie to him either. “It’s what people do,” she said at last.

“It’s one thing people do.”

“But it’s like the main thing. The thing everyone talks about. The thing everyone wants.”

Rowan leaned back, keeping her close. He watched her face. “Tell me what’s worrying you.”

Jane’s face heated and she studied his chin. Her heart hammered, but she took a deep breath and forced the words out. “It usually hurts,” she whispered.

“You mean having a man inside you hurts?”

“Yes.”

“Has it always?”

“Yes.”

“Have you told anyone?”

“I did when I was younger, but people just told me, try to relax. Or, have some ale first. And after the last time, I told Ladi and she took me to visit Synne, the healer in Woods Rest. Synne seemed to understand at least. She delivers babies and everything.”

Rowan waited. She should tell him. He wouldn’t dismiss her concerns.

“Synne said my muscles are tight down there. It makes things hurt. She taught me exercises to have better control over relaxing. And she suggested... some other things, but I felt so embarrassed I never did them. It will never stop hurting if I can’t stop worrying about it because that only makes me more tense.”

“You’re anxious about it hurting before it does.”

“Yes. And I know if I could stop being anxious it might help, but I can’t. It’s so stupid and I can’t fix it.”

“It’s not stupid.”

“But I’m making it into a problem just by thinking about it so much.”

“It’s still real—even if anxiety causes it.”

He was listening to her. He wasn’t offering useless advice. Her eyes welled up. “When you kiss me it’s so good. I want you down there. The pain’s not awful. You could still—”

“Jane, shh. I don’t want you to hurt.”

“I can handle it. It’s just a little while.”

“But there’s no reason we have to do that. We can do so many other things.”

“But...”

Rowan watched her.

“... won’t you be disappointed?”

“No.”

Of course he’d say no, that it was fine if they didn’t tumble each other that way , but she couldn’t believe him. He wouldn’t tell her he was disappointed with her. He was too nice. He’d go on tolerating her because he was generous or because he thought he didn’t deserve someone better than her—someone whose body worked the way it was supposed to. But she’d never get him to admit it. He’d keep saying it was okay and she’d never believe him.

Rowan leaned close with his lips by her ear. “I can tell you don’t believe me,” he whispered. “But I promise you, Jane, I’ll swear on anything you like: I won’t miss it. I can think of dozens of ways I want to touch you that don’t involve thrusting my penis in your vagina.”

Heat flooded her at his words. He kissed her forehead, and his fingers on her thigh were light.

She nudged her way out of his arms and sat up. She could see him clearly although the light was dim. The lights warmed to golden as he shifted onto his back and folded his arms behind his head, watching her. His chest was bare but the blankets swathed his lower half. He had trousers on but she could easily pretend he didn’t.

She blinked away the remains of her tears. “Does one of them involve thrusting your penis in my mouth?” she asked, trying not to smile.

His eyes crinkled. “Several of them do.”

A smile broke across her face.

“And several of them don’t even involve me touching you because merely looking at you is enough to make me come.”

“It is?”

He nodded slowly. “And I want to learn every way I can touch you to make you feel good so—”

“Wait, looking at me?” She pursed her lips. “Without touching me? I don’t believe you.”

“Is that a challenge?”

Jane narrowed her eyes. “Maybe.”

Rowan shifted upright. She had to stop herself from reaching for the muscles of his abdomen as they tensed with the effort and his arms came down to his sides. Only he kept moving forward, leaning into her space until she scrambled back from him but he crawled after her. He caught her by the front of her dress and gently pushed her to lie on the blankets until she was flat on her back and he was leaning over her on one arm.

“You’re touching me,” she said.

“I’m touching your dress.”

“Lying fairy.”

He only laughed in reply.

He undid her buttons with his free hand, careful to keep his fingers outside her dress. The sense of his rough fingers close to her skin and never touching her caused a familiar ache between her legs. His hair slipped into his face but he was focused on the buttons. He concentrated as he unbuttoned her all the way down her chest and over her belly. The dress gaped open and the chilly air of the caverns stole in.

When he had her dress open to her waist, he sat up and reached for her shoulders. He met her gaze as he pinched her dress material around the straps of her undergarment. He raised his eyebrows.

“Go on,” she said and her voice cracked with a desperate plea. He stifled a grin. He peeled down her dress and undergarment, slowly dragging it under her shoulders and down, baring her breasts and her bellybutton until all her clothing was bunched at her hips. Cool air drifted over her skin, but the sight of her bare breasts and Rowan’s sharp inhale as he took in her body made her warm up, as if his gaze were a burning lamp warming her as it roved over her.

His fingers trailed over her clothing. “Are you sure you don’t want me to touch you?”

“No touching,” she managed to whisper.

“How do you feel about me making a mess on you?”

“A mess?”

Rowan smirked—an actual, across-his-face smirk—and before she’d recovered her shock at the expression on his face, he straddled her, pinning her arms against her sides inside his legs. He walked forward on his knees until they hugged in at her waist and he towered over her. His meaning came clear and a hot flush spread from her neck up her cheeks and down over her tingling breasts, and the ache between her legs flared to life like an ember in a haystack. Rowan broke into another a wide grin.

She sucked in a breath and waited to see what he would do. Or undo.

He undid the top button on his trousers.

“Rowan—”

“You don’t want this?”

“I do. But I could touch you.” Her words ended with a whine.

“No.” He undid another button.

She squirmed, trying to satisfy the longing between her thighs. If she could move her hand the littlest bit and get it over her leg, she could reach down...

“You’re awfully squirmy.” The rest of his buttons came open. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine!” She couldn’t move her arms a smidge. She rubbed her legs together, trying to ease the ache as he opened the front of his trousers and took out his shaft, already firm. He gave it a few long strokes with his hand and it visibly hardened. His gaze roved from her face to her breasts and down and he began to stroke himself.

She forgot her longing a moment as she watched his hand, transfixed. She wanted her hand on him, holding the end lightly like he did and working his foreskin over the head of his shaft. Or pushing his foreskin back with her lips and sucking on the tip while his hands did whatever they could do around her mouth. He took a few minutes while she ogled his hand and grew harder and hotter until she was the one aching with want and practically panting underneath him. He went faster. She wouldn’t squirm and disrupt him, she wouldn’t move, but she might climax just from watching him, hands or not.

His eyes drifted closed and his breathing grew rapid. He gasped. A beat later, he rained shining droplets down on her breasts. He opened his eyes, watching as he twisted his hips and made sure to get the drops all across her. They were hot like sparks on her skin.

He smirked at her again.

“Next time you should put it in my mouth,” she said, breathless.

“Next time will be soon if you keep talking like that.”

He settled back, not exactly sitting on her but not freeing her arms. He relaxed with an exhale. Was he trying to torment her? He had to know the effect he had on her.

“Let me get you a kerchief.” He shifted one leg to stand beside the cot.

“No.” Her freed arm darted out and held his leg. “Leave it.”

“What do you want me to do?”

She nudged him the rest of the way off her until she could lift her knees and wiggle her body backward, careful not to drip anything on his blankets. She made room by her feet. “Sit,” she whispered.

He lowered himself down and watched her over her knees. She bit her lip and widened her eyes up at him, and she heated just thinking about what she wanted. “Will you...”

“You know I will.”

He rested his hands on her knees and she spread them wider. Her skirt fell up her thighs to pile at her hips with the rest of her clothing. His hands on her legs made her want him so badly she whimpered. He caressed under her knees with his thumbs and up her thighs to beneath her skirt, where he hooked her underpants and tugged them off her bottom. He drew them up her legs and down her calves and off.

She was going to go off the moment he touched her if she didn’t calm herself.

He was back at her knees. “Tell me how you like it.”

“Okay.”

He kissed up her leg. “If you want it softer or harder.”

“Okay.” She curled her fingers into his hair as it came within reach. He kissed his way under her skirt and out of sight. She lay her head back and closed her eyes, left only with the press of his kisses.

His mouth found her needy body, kissing her gently until she tightened her fist in his hair. He responded with suction. As his lips played with her and the tip of his tongue nudged in and wet her, she trailed her free hand through the beads of moisture he’d dropped on her skin. She smeared the drops across one breast, circling the nipple. What would he think if he saw? But his face was buried in her skirt and besides, he’d watched her grind herself against his leg to reach a climax in Sunshine’s pool and then against his face a few minutes later and he hadn’t been turned off. He’d probably like watching her paint herself with his seed.

His hand on her hip was holding her against his mouth. She tilted her hips into him and he nudged her thigh up onto his shoulder. She rocked gently against him and he let her movement set the pace, sucking harder with steady pressure. His knuckles caressed the base of her thigh and stopped beneath his mouth, touching her lightly to let her know they were there.

She tilted higher and rubbed her opening against his knuckles with a moan. The touch sent sparks bursting and she let it happen, arching against his mouth and his hand and fisting both hands in his hair as she bucked against him, her body throbbing with shocks and aftershocks until she lay panting and twitching.

She blinked open her eyes. Lights winked down at her. She tried to smile back at the lights but gasped in another breath instead.

Rowan’s face was in her skirts and one soft kiss might have fallen, but her skin was so chafed from kisses and suction she couldn’t be sure. She loosened her fists and petted his hair. As he pulled back and sat up, the lights dimmed to a quiet gold.

Rowan rubbed a hand down his face and the back of it sideways across his lips. She rested an arm behind her head and stifled a grin as he turned to her. He leaned his chin on her knee.

They lay there in the quiet room, watching each other. Her chest had dried like armor and the room was plenty warm now, even lying naked. His eyes held warmth, fondness, but something else...

Peace. Rowan looked peaceful for the first time since she’d known him. And she shared that peace. They had each other as helpmates. They would fetch Elle and bring her here to learn her fire magic in a safe place. Or more likely Sunshine would bring her. And somehow they’d let Axe know and he could come too—if Rose didn’t mind one dragon in her home surely she wouldn’t mind two. Jane knew her well enough to know they’d find a way to make it work. Rowan could learn to use the magic he’d been gifted with. And after that... well, maybe she’d figure it out tomorrow. She had enough to manage today.

She took Rowan’s hand on the blankets. “We should go.”

He helped her sit up. “Do you want to wash up?”

She grinned up at him and began buttoning her dress, tugging her undergarment up under it. “Later. We should rescue Maryanne from the dragon in the backyard first.”

Rowan adjusted his own clothing and leaned back on his arms to wait. “By the time we get back, that dragon will be her best friend. Sunshine will have minded the children all day while Maryanne got a long-overdue rest and a few rounds with Wells.”

“And we’ll come back here for the summer?”

“If that’s what you want. I can show you the forge before we go.”

“I trust you. I’d rather get back. The two of us can’t fly so we’d better get started. And you’ll... you’ll let Axe know?”

She held her breath. Rowan slipped an arm over her shoulders and kissed her temple. “Yes.”

Happiness. That was the warmth filling her.

“In fact,” he continued, “you may be wrong about flying.” He grinned.

Jane leapt up. She shook down her skirt and snatched her underpants off the floor. “He’s here?” She hopped on one foot as she tried to get the other into her pants. Rowan reached out to steady her. “You could reach him all the way in the mountains?”

“I tried.”

Jane got her clothes righted and moved to the door. Rowan snagged a shirt off the shelf and followed her out into the caverns, pulling it on as they walked. As soon as his hands were free, Jane took one and pulled him to walk faster. The dark passages were empty all the way to the barrier. Jane closed her eyes and let Rowan lead her through.

Warm, summery air filtered down the steps with the sunshine. Jane blinked in the brightness as they emerged into the late morning. Bees droned in the fruit trees but the garden was deserted. Except for under the trees opposite them. A crowd of fairies gathered—all facing away from Jane and Rowan and into the clearing she had crossed with Rose yesterday. The clearing where, ten winters ago, Rowan had first met Axe. And where they’d go to meet him again today.

“I’m sure we could borrow horses,” Rowan said.

Jane squeezed his hand. Across the gardens, butterflies flitted from blossom to blossom. She inhaled the scent of earth and new life and possibility. She peeked up into his face and smiled.

“This way will be faster,” she said, leading him forward. “Let’s go.”