Page 87 of Promised to the Nightmare Realm
We’re on the floor, with Lady’s claws tapping the wooden parquet as she paces, and our bodies rock together, as if we’re attempting to pull apart only for the force of attraction to bring us back together.
“You’re not sorry at all,” I say, elated as I pull on his ear with my teeth. “And I’m not either.” A groan of relief and excitement, all in one, escapes my lips when I slide my hands to his ass and squeeze. I’ve daydreamed about this so many times it’s hard to comprehend I’m allowed to touch him at last.
I’d love to talk, to hear his reasoning about what pushed him back into my arms, but that can wait until after I’ve had my fill. The warm feelings flooding me through our bond are enough for now.
He stalls, face tinted a wonderful shade of pink that can only exist on his sun kissed features. “Maybe…”
His hand glides up my flank, bunching up the shirt until I realise it’s now out of my pants, and Nate eases his fingers under my clothes.
Oh.
I get goose bumps.
His touch is like… it’s like moonshine. Like the warmth of a fireplace in winter. Like warm tea with a drop of booze.
His touch is exploratory, not at all shy as it learns the shape of my ribs, the curves of my muscles, and I dive in, sucking on a deliciously soft bit of skin on the side of his throat.
Nate gasps in appreciation, the noise soft but wanton as he rocks against me and I sense the shape of his cock.
If he wants me to stop, he’ll say it, but I doubt he will. Now I know I wasn’t going mad when I could swear I sensed hisinterest, noticed stolen glances, or his hand lingering in mine for longer than necessary.
I want him naked. Moaning. Open and vulnerable. Trembling under me.
I press my cock against his in answer as I slip my hands under his sweater and slide them up his back. There’s a few scars I’ve been dying to kiss better since I brought him back from that forsaken tower, and maybe today I’ll get to do it, learning the complex geography of his body until I know it by heart.
His eyes are so dark, like deep holes in the ocean hiding treasures no one has ever been brave enough to pursue. I want him to be my adventure, and as I dive in, rubbing my hips against his until need makes my toes curl, he twists his fingers in my long hair and pulls me down.
I’ve kissed so many people, but none felt like this. A connection that can’t be broken.
His mouth raises the hair on my body and makes my blood gallop like herds of wild horses hurrying across the black steppes of Oravia. It’s not just lust. Fate brought us together the moment I tightened my fingers on his wrist and took him out of the river, and now, finally, I get to worship him, aware what this means.
The world has gone quiet. I no longer notice the music, and the patter of paws is barely a whisper. Only the space between us exists, loud with our cherin-scented breaths and yearning.
My heart would love to crawl into his chest and beat next to his. Maybe I cherish him even more because I almost lost him. I don’t know, and it doesn’t matter. His mouth is so hot for my tongue. I could spend all night kissing him, but I also want to touch so much more of him, and for that, I need to pull off his sweater.
That breaks our kiss for half a moment, and when I’m back at his warm lips—
Lady licks the side of my face.
“Fuck—No! This is—It’s not…”
I have to take a deep breath when Nate starts laughing.
It doesn’t feel very funny to me when the urgency to touch every inch of Nate’s skin is like a fire under my feet.
I grab a ball I spot under the sofa and throw it through the open door to Nate’s bedroom. “Fetch!”
Lady makes a happy yap and bounces over the floor. As soon as she’s inside, I force my shadow behind her, then use it to shut the door. Because I’m not moving away from Nate for a second.
He cocks his head, licking those pouty lips. “Smooth. I knew you had more tricks up your sleeve,” he drawls, so very kissable in the flowing shirt he was wearing under the sweater. A shiver trails down my back when I spot the dark circle of his nipple through the fabric, and I lean down to lick it through the fine spider silk. Gloombane’s eel is forever frozen under Nate’s skin, a sad reminder of what my beloved has been through. Maybe one day it will be just a faint memory.
Nate moans. His body moves like a wave, and I squeeze his hips while poking at the little bud of flesh through damp fabric. “Oh, Tristan…”
“Oh,Nate,” I repeat. “You’ve got no idea how much I’ve wanted to do this.” I rock my hips to give him a taste or what’s to come. I remember how he yielded under me so beautifully, how he moaned and asked for more. The sliver of shadow that binds us only makes every touch and whine sweeter.
I roll his shirt up and dip my head under it so I can press my forehead to his chest. He’s still slim, but there’s none of that sickly thinness which made him look as if he was about to break. Every day, I’ll feed him so much cake he will never have to suffer hunger again.
He nips on my chin, hands fiddling with the buttons of my own top, but I couldn’t care less. I want this soft, warm skin that smells of the sun, and the sea, and the unique sweetness thatis only Nate. The thread between us pulses with emotion, and while there’s so much heat in this moment, so much urgency, there’s an understanding in the way we’re holding one another. For once, we’re both fully present, because all pretense has crumbled, leaving us both ready to reconnect.
