Page 31 of The Gargoyle and the Maiden (Nightfall Guardians #1)

Brandt

S he arrived as the first rays of moonlight turned the Tower walls silver, and Brandt felt his chest constrict at the sight of her.

Idabel wore a simple, burgundy linen dress, her hair braided back, but to him she might have been wearing a dragon queen’s raiment.

The years apart vanished in an instant, being in her presence.

“You came,” he breathed.

“I said I would.” Her smile was hesitant, her eyes questioning. “Every tomorrow, remember?”

Ghantal appeared from her chambers and headed straight to the door. “The moths tell me I need to visit the market tier. Something about new woolens in stock that they plan to devour if I don’t purchase them soon.” Her tone was knowing. “I’ll be gone for hours. Many hours.”

“Mother, don’t trouble yourself to leave,” he protested, embarrassed by her transparency. He didn’t want Idabel to think he was some kind of rutting beast. That he only wanted her for physical respite. Ghantal waved him off.

“Enjoy your evening.” She squeezed Idabel’s shoulder in passing, a gesture of acceptance that made his chest tight for different reasons. Then she was gone, leaving them alone in his eyrie.

Silence stretched heavy between them. Where to begin? Idabel moved to the window, fingers trailing along the stone sill as she pretended to look out at the city’s slate roofs and glowing windows. Fog wreathed some of the higher towers and muted any view beyond the city walls.

“I suppose things have changed since you left.”

“Everything has.” He crossed to her, unable to maintain distance any longer. One hand in the small of her back became the focus of all his senses. Her soft scent, her muscles rippling under his palm as she moved. “Even you are different.”

“Time changes people. I’m not so young anymore.” She turned abruptly so she faced him, her back to Solvantis, and tipped her chin up so she could look up at him directly. Her mouth curved at her own joke, her brown eyes searching his face for any hint of amusement.

She had changed. There were tiny, lacy lines at the corners of her eyes where she’d laughed, and a few more freckles on her cheekbones.

She was thinner in some places and rounder in others.

Her hair had grown, and he counted three silver hairs that hadn’t been there before amongst her thousands of dark ones.

He brushed the back of his knuckles against her cheek. “You’re even more beautiful.”

She laughed, but he could hear sadness in it. “Don’t be silly.”

“I won’t hear any arguments on this point.” Feeling reckless, he lifted her in his arms, cradling her against his chest. The way she clutched at him in surprise made him want to growl with satisfaction.

“Where are you taking me?”

“To our nest, where you belong.” He was a beast, after all.

“Brandt, we should really talk—”

“We can talk after,” he growled.

“After what?”

She could not be so innocent of his intentions. He carried her to his nesting chamber instead of answering, setting her down among the furs that only held the ghost of her scent from years ago. He intended to spread her scent all over this chamber tonight.

He shut the door against gossiping moths and lit a few candles before returning to her.

Idabel was already flushed, breathing quick, and when he scented the air, her arousal was unmistakable. She knew exactly why he’d brought her here.

“We should take our time,” she murmured, but her hands were already reaching for him, running over his chest and belly. A few more touches from his deft fingers and he’d spend in his breeches.

“We’ve had time enough.” He caught her wrists in one hand and held them, gentle but firm. “I need you now. Need to feel our connection. Maybe our bodies can repair what’s broken between us.”

“I’m not sure it works that way.”

“Please.” The word came out raw. “I can’t feel you through the bond. Can barely sense you’re there at all. But this” —he pressed his hips against hers, felt her shudder—”this I can feel.”

She melted into him then, all resistance flowing away. “Yes. Yes. Whatever you need.”

“I need you. I need this.” He covered her with his body and ground against her, heedless of the layers of leather and fabric between them.

His wings stretched out, casting them both in shadow as he drank deep kisses from her trembling lips.

Winds aid him, he was so parched. He could not get enough of her.

His mouth ravished hers with a ferocity that left her gasping. When his tongue demanded entry, she surrendered instantly, her hands wrapping in his hair as she kissed him back with equal desperation.

Idabel’s breath faltered as his hands moved down her body, tugging impatiently at the leather laces that held the sides of her bodice together. They tangled, refusing to give way for him. With a snarl of frustration, he abandoned the effort and rucked her skirts up instead.

He had no patience for laces and bows. Not tonight. Not after so long apart.

She shivered beneath him, though whether from the temperature or his touch, he couldn’t tell.

All that mattered was the way her breath hitched as he reached beneath her pretty hem and found his way through the petticoats.

His fingers traced her bare skin along the line from her hip to her pussy, before teasing between her folds to test her readiness.

Fallen gods knew, he was ready enough for both of them.

She was already slick and swollen. His breath hissed out with the effort of keeping himself in control. He didn’t want their reunion to be over too soon, but neither could he wait much longer.

He gripped the hem of her gown and pushed it up higher, revealing more of her to his hungry gaze. Her legs were strong, shaped by hard work, but soft in a way that made his mouth water. He bent his head, pressing a rough kiss to the inside of her thigh, savoring the taste and scent of her skin.

“You’re mine,” he said fiercely, his fingers tightening on her thigh. “All the time and distance was worth it for this. For you.”

“I hope so,” she whispered.

He didn’t bother undressing her fully. There was no need to strip away every layer when his need was so piercing.

He pushed her skirts onto her belly, baring her sex to him in a way that felt almost obscene.

His eyes roamed over the juncture of her thighs, where the swell of her mons, covered with soft, enticing fur, was beaded with her dew.

His hunger grew fiercer with every second. His fingers trailed upward, brushing against the sensitive skin of her stomach before sliding lower once more, seeking the heat between her thighs. She jerked at his touch, her lids falling shut.

When he found her clit firm and throbbing, a low, satisfied sound escaped him.

“Perfect,” he murmured, his voice thick with approval.

His thumb circled it, drawing a whimper from her lips, and he watched intently as her back arched, her body responding to his touch.

Her hands clawed at the furs beneath them, her breaths coming in quick, shallow gasps.

The sight of her unraveling beneath him sent a bolt of heat straight to his cock, and he clenched his jaw, forcing himself to hold back.

“Brandt,” she moaned. Her hips shifted, seeking more of him, but he stilled her with his other hand, pinning her in place.

He wasn’t ready to give her what she wanted.

First, he wanted to savor every sound, every shiver, every flicker of pleasure that crossed her face.

His fingers moved with deliberate slowness, teasing and exploring until she was trembling beneath him.

Finally, when he could no longer resist the insistent pull of his own need, he gripped her hips and aligned their bodies with a growl of anticipation. She was close and so was he. Any more teasing and they’d both tip over the edge.

He fumbled with his breeches for a moment, freeing himself with a satisfied grunt, and positioned himself at her entrance.

“My mate,” he purred, his voice thick with possession.

For once, his mind walls did not hinder him, for he had few thoughts to get lost in them.

“You belong here, spread out beneath me.” His hands pinned her wrists above her head, his body weight trapping her.

He knew he wouldn’t last—not after so long without her—and he needed to make this moment count.

He thrust into her to the root, filling her snug heat completely.

A sharp gasp escaped Idabel’s lips, her nails digging into his palms as she adjusted to the sensation.

He groaned, his forehead pressing against hers as he fought to maintain control.

Every inch of him burned with the need to take her harder, faster, but he forced himself to move slowly, savoring the feel of her around him.

His fingers tangled in her long braid, and he began to unravel it with a gentleness that contrasted sharply with the intensity of their coupling.

As the strands fell loose around her shoulders, he combed through them with his fingers, his touch reverent.

“My Idabel,” he murmured against her ear, his voice rough with emotion. “My sweet mate. Tell me you’re mine.”

She arched beneath him, her hips meeting his with increasing urgency. “I’m yours,” she gasped, her voice shaky with pleasure. Her legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him deeper, urging him to lose himself in her.

Brandt held on, jaw clenched. The way she felt around him—tight, hot, perfect—was almost enough to unravel him completely, but he fought to stay in control.

He angled his hips to brush against that sensitive spot inside her, the one he knew would send her spiraling.

Her breath hitched sharply, her body tightening around him in response, and a low, guttural growl rumbled in his chest. His fingers tightened in her hair, as if it anchored him to her, to this moment.

This was what he’d been waiting for. This was what he’d been fighting for.

Her hips lifted instinctively, seeking more of him.

Brandt groaned, his forehead pressing against hers as he moved with deliberate slowness, each thrust deeper and less controlled than the last. He could feel her quivering beneath him, her breaths coming in shallow gasps, and the sound of her soft whimpers made his knot threaten to swell.

But he would not rush this. Not when she was so close, not when he could see the way her eyes squeezed shut and her lips parted in silent pants.

“Let go,” he murmured against her ear, his heart achingly tender. “I’ve got you.”

Her nails dug into him, her fingers tightening around his shoulders as if she needed something to ground her. Brandt could feel her body tensing, her inner muscles fluttering as she teetered on the edge of release.

He slowed his movements even further, drawing out the moment, savoring the way her breath caught every time he bottomed out inside her.

His hips snapped forward again, harder this time, and she cried out, her head falling back against the furs.

He could feel her body coiling tighter, tighter, like a spring ready to snap.

His own control was slipping, the rhythm of his thrusts becoming more erratic as he struggled to hold on just a little longer.

“Come for me,” he commanded, his voice low and urgent, almost a snarl. “I need to feel it.”

And she did. Her channel convulsed around him as she cried out his name. The sensation was too much for Brandt to resist any longer. With a guttural groan, he buried himself to the hilt, his knot swelling inside her as his seed gushed out in heady pulses.

He shuddered above her, his breath ragged as he leaned down to capture her lips in a tender, possessive kiss.

The feeling of being locked together was so consuming, he could hardly think of anything else but the place where their bodies joined.

They were one. They were mates as certainly as the moon shone.

Mindlessly, he sought the bond, hoping to catch a glimpse of her pleasure through it. But no matter how he grasped for it, it wasn’t there. Where once he would have experienced her ecstasy as his own, now there was only the faintest brush of happiness.

His guts hollowed. He had placed too many hopes that their physical connection would renew the mental one.

What had felt like victory now just underlined the loss.

The bond between them should have blazed to life when they connected.

Instead, there was only that thin thread, barely there, mocking him with its weakness.

“I hate this.” The words tore from him as he held her tight in his arms, both of them still quaking from the force of their releases. “I should be able to feel you. Share this with you properly. The bond is so damaged by my mind walls, but I swear I am working to bring them down.”

“Stop.” She pressed her fingers to his lips. “Please, don’t apologize.”

“But you deserve—”

“I have what I want. You. Here. Alive. In my arms.” She curled against him, and he felt wetness on her cheeks. She was crying. “That’s more than I hoped for. It’s more than I deserve.”