Page 213 of Season Warriors & Wolves

“I thought of something better,” he said, pulling me towards where the Olympian priest sat cross legged in the middle of the rocky space floating around water.

The old man bowed to us. “My king and queen.”

“Apologies for calling you so late,” Kilian offered.

“No matter the time, I will always be in the service of love.”

Kilian and I kneeled before one another again. “To honour both of our traditions,” he said, and I grinned up at him until his cheeks flushed like they always did.

“Your hand,” the priest asked, and I extended my palm to him like I’d seen others do at their own ceremonies. He drew the symbol for the soul in Calgnan with white paint in the middle of my palm. Then on Kilian’s before joining our hands together.

It was different for us—for my kind. The prayers usually were sung to the skies, not told like by most. Nubil adored songs of love. It was said he spied from realm to realm every time they were sung by his blessed. Tradition said that the mountains would echo it around for all to hear, heaven, water and earth alike. The song vibrated on the water, on the stone and air around. It was beautiful, enchanting. A dream. Now mine as well.

We marked the stone with our names in white ink.

We marked the air with sage.

We marked the water with our touch.

All three would know if they already didn’t, that him and I were one and would always be.

The priest stood after the last prayer. “Your vow ceremonies are private between you and your faith,” he said, bowing his head to us and leaving.

“You need to take your shirt off,” I said, taking my own clothes off.

He had a stupid smirk on his face when he saw what I was wearing under my dress. The red slip he’d gifted me some time ago.

I soaked my finger in paint and drew all over his chest, dipping a little under his trousers, and he raised a brow at me. “What vow might that be now?”

“Might I always be gloriously fucked by my husband.”

He threw his head back, his laughter thundering all over the cave. Once he was done, he picked me up and sat me on his lap. After staining his fingers in paint again, he drew something on my face and kissed my lips. “Might she always smile at me like she smiles at no one.”

“No need for a prayer, Kil,” I said, grinding my hips against his.

I put a hand over his mouth when he moaned, feeling his smile on my palm. “Sacred place, remember?”

His hands dug on my naked thighs, forcing me to shift over his bulge again. “I am going to do some unholy things to you if you keep rubbing your cunt on me like that.”

Ignoring the thrill spurring between my legs, I reached for the white paint again and traced a few more on his chest, down his stomach and waist. I took my time just to feel him shake under my touch, to feel his warm breath rush on my skin. Watching his resolve break little by little.

“Evil woman,” he gritted out, a whimper escaping him when I rolled my hips again over his hardening length.

I shifted closer to him, my breasts pressed to his naked chest. Looking over his shoulder, I drew some more vows down his back. All the time he looked at me, his lips leaving feathery kisses on my arm and shoulder. He murmured so many praises, sung taunting promises and sneaked barely there touches down my thighs, his finger grazing the thin lace of the underwear I wore to torture me back. When I shifted up on my knees to reach the space of his lower back, his mouth latched on the soft flesh of my breasts and my moan travelled down the cave.

“Shhh, my sweet sin,” he purred, licking and sucking, staining my skin with purple bruises.

“This is cheating,” I hissed low when he pushed back the silk of my nightgown to free one of my breasts.

“You put them in my face,” he said, his tongue peeking to flick my nipple before he bit onto it and tugged until my knees buckled. In one tear, the thing was off my body. He grabbed my hips, dragging me over him and rocking me over his length until I could feel flames lick down my stomach.

“Don’t make me come like this. I want you.”

“Turn around,” he ordered, and I spun in his lap so my back was against his chest. His fingers dipped in paint again and I shivered when they traced words on my spine. He hummed, his fingers low on my back. “Love these two little dimples.”

Biting on my lip to keep quiet, I squirmed on his lap, shamelessly riding on my pleasure.

His hands cupped my hips, angling me forward and taking apart my underwear. His knuckles brushed my wet core while he undid the belt buckle and buttons of his trousers. “You’re going to ride me like a good girl,” he said, the thick head of his cock pushing in till he was all inside me, my eyes rolling back when it stroked all the right places. “All the way down, love.”