Page 54 of The Garnet Daughter (The Viridian Priestess #3)
Chapter
Thirty-Seven
W e all share a meal together, laughing and enjoying a rare moment as a group like we used to.
It makes me miss Allister and the dish he made for us in his little home on Viathan.
My cheeks get hot when I remember how excited I was that August had returned from a job.
I was so frazzled, I could barely speak.
But now I cannot stop talking and grinning and holding August’s hand.
I tell them what happened in the temple, how I shut down the ridiculous nomination and how they spoke of making their selection. All three of them are surprised when I repeat some of my conversation with Selene, the hopeful note we had left off on, how we plan to go forward in a different way.
Ferren is pleased at my harsh words toward her former priestess order, but 99 solely focuses on their slow process of placing a ward and how Selene assured him it would be done by morning.
August is notably quiet, listening and watching me with transfixed eyes that the others notice as well.
And when our bellies are full and my cheeks hurt from smiling, we decide to call it a night.
Ferren hides a small yawn. “Would you both like to stay here tonight? I think we should all remain close now.”
“It is a long walk back to your ship,” I tease August with a side glance, which grants me one of his playful grins.
“I can show you the room, Calliape.” Ferren extends a hand for me to stand with her.
“They are testing the turrets now. We should have a full report in . . . a few hours,” 99 says to August, holding his gaze for so long, August nods in some secret understanding, and I could swear his lips pull up in a smirk at his friend’s meaning.
I walk arm in arm with Ferren toward the sleeping quarters in the back.
“You deserve happiness, Calliape. We all do. The coming days will be difficult.” She begins to bite the nail of her free hand but quickly corrects herself.
“This conjunction has tried to break us in so many ways.” I sigh.
“How different we both are since the day it started.” She leans into me a little, that small contact meaning so much.
In just two days, the conjunction will peak, reaching utter darkness as the planets perfectly align, reminding us the three worlds were once one.
I want to ask her if she will stay in the ship during the battle, but she will likely want to fight on the front lines with the Viathan fleet and the priestess order.
First Son’s army is predicted to attack at the peak, not only symbolic but when he is at his most powerful.
I push down the need to fixate on making arrangements for the coming days and worrying until I’m sick.
I have done my part in ensuring my friend is safe, in telling her the truth of First Son’s plans.
There is nothing more for me to do. I have severed the last ties to the priestess order, pulled out their hopes for me by the tap root.
I have purged the secrets I have been keeping, unburdening myself in order to gladly repair the damage they have caused in more meaningful ways.
I draw a contented breath and hug her tightly when we stop in front of the door to the room August and I will stay in.
“There are some clothes in that cupboard Leema did not take with her if you want to change into something. Oh, I doubt you will.” She laughs to herself awkwardly. “Blessed night.”
“Sleep well, Ferren.” I shake my head fondly as she giggles to herself.
Just as I have the door almost shut, August’s palm grips the side, causing it to pause on its sliding track, but then he waits, looking out into the hallway. “Alright. Yeah, no problem. Night,” he says into the hall impatiently.
Ferren’s voice is cut off as he enters and shuts the door behind him.
“She was still talking.” I point absently at the sealed door.
He crosses his arms, blocking the exit with a mischievous gleam in his eyes. “Really? I didn’t hear anything.”
I send him a leveled look. “August.”
“She will forgive me.” He laughs. “I needed to see you. It was . . . urgent.”
“And what exactly did you need to see me for so urgently?”
“I am a weak man. I’d like to hear you say it again.”
“Say what?”
His brows rise like he’s expecting me to know the answer. “It’s been so long, and I fear I’m going to need to hear it again . . . and often.”
I tap my boot, knowing exactly what he means. “How often?”
“As many times as I have thought it since we met.” His tone turns from playful to low and serious.
I stand a little straighter, taking a step toward him. “August. I, Calliape of Frith . . . love y?—”
He pounces forward, picking me up in one swoop so fast I squeak, my feet suddenly out from under me and around his torso. His laugh is mixed with a satisfied growl as he roughly nestles into my neck, nipping and kissing at my skin.
“That tickles!” I squawk, and then he hikes me up farther, palming the globes of my backside.
“Say it again,” he growls.
I cup his jaw and decide not to tease him this time. He has been so patient with me. “You asked me what I wanted . . . and I want to be with you. I belong with you.”
He grins up at me, holding me higher than his substantial height. “And . . . ?”
I mock-gasp at the joke he could not help himself to. “And I love you!”
He kisses me until my back touches the mattress, sinking into it as he gently pulls off my clothing one layer at a time until I am bare and set ablaze, and when his are finally off, I am panting with need and soaked between my legs.
He sinks into me, parting my thighs. His skin is like fire against mine, somehow sending lightning crackling throughout me like a frenzy of thunderbolts and pleasure wherever his body touches mine.
I kiss him deeply, inviting his tongue forward, the swirl of it rolling my eyes back in my skull. I rake my nails down his spine softly, then to his biceps, bulging and tense, holding him up by his forearms and caging me in.
He pulls back, taking the majority of his weight off me and nipping at my lower lip with teasing teeth. “Spin for me.”
I’m not exactly sure what he means, but when I guess and twist my hips to the side slowly, he nods in approval and then turns me the rest of the way, forcing me flat on my stomach and pinned underneath him.
His strong thighs press into the back of mine. I’m treated to the sight of his forearms on either side of my head, the veins running down the corded muscles begging me to bite into.
I gasp as he rocks forward, a slow slide of his hard cock between the cleft of my backside, and then he pushes himself lower.
I whimper his name, not thinking this position possible, but he is so large and I’m so wet, he slides through my thighs and prods at my entrance with his next fluid rocking motion.
His hips buck, adjusting us, and he raises my hips with a deliciously rough hand on my pelvis.
Tears spring into my vision as he enters me in the next thrust. He groans so deeply in his chest, I can feel it against my back.
I unleash a cry unconsciously as his teeth bite into my shoulder, leaving an addictive sting soothed by a slide of his tongue.
I push myself off the downy mattress and try to look at him as he rolls his pelvis into me again, and when the stretch of my neck is too great, his hand slides to my throat, pulling my cheek up slightly to meet him.
He grunts his pleasure into my ear as he fucks me, working up to a steady, continuous rhythm.
I grip the pillow, the blankets, his forearms, whatever I can to stay in place and feel him as deep as possible.
I’m perfectly pinned under him, caged in as he slowly rams into me over and over, eliciting breathy moans I can’t control and driving me higher.
It’s slower, less frantic than last time, and even though I cannot see him, the intimacy is more tender than I expected, the connection between us morphing our bodies into one being.
“Say it,” he gently commands in my ear then kisses the lobe.
“I love you,” I gasp. “So much. Love the way you take me, August.”
His whole body shudders, and when he thrusts into me next, he slaps with such force against the soft parts of my skin, the sound echoes off the metal walls.
“Spin again.” His hand falls away from my throat, the warmth of his body pressed against my back not nearly as crushing as the sensation of him sliding out of my core. “I need to see your face.”
I turn quickly and reach for him, only to be picked up and positioned exactly how he wants me. He watches me with hooded, dark eyes as he enters me again, so slow I try to pull him in to fill me faster.
“You are right, Callia. You do belong with me,” he hisses, filling me completely. “And now that I finally have you, I will never let you go.”
I lock my legs around his hips and brace my palms on his shoulder. “Never, I’m yours.”
He pulls back and plunges into my depths again, taking my ability to breathe with him.
With the next thrust, he begins another pounding rhythm until we are both pushed over the edge, clawing and gasping through our pleasure before it transforms into sated, huffing breaths.
Eventually, I reposition myself in the small bed when he flops to the side, spent and exhausted. I snuggle into the crook of his side, lying on his bicep and wrapping my arm across his trim waist. He absently strokes his fingertips around a messy curl of my hair and then tucks it behind my ear.
“After the conjunction, we can fly back to Viathan and have the ship modified however you like, build a greenhouse and larger pilot suite.” His voice is sleepy.
“Mm, I’d like that. Can we visit Allister and Leema too?”
“Of course. Should probably see my family, if that doesn’t scare you.”
I smile up at him. “No, it doesn’t scare me at all. I’d love to spend time with them.”
He smiles back, but his lids have fallen closed, barely holding onto consciousness after spending an entire night and half a day working on the perimeter defenses.
“And after that?” he asks through a yawn.