A Court of Silver Flames
Nesta saw all the words in his eyes, though. The same ones she knew lay in her own.
So he stopped trying to speak, and closed the distance between them. Slid a hand into her hair, the other going around her waist and tugging her against him. He said nothing as he dipped his head, mouth brushing the tears sliding along one of her cheeks. Then the other.
She closed her eyes, letting herself savor his lips on her over-hot skin, the way his breath caressed her cheek. Each gentle kiss echoed those words she’d seen in his eyes.
Cassian pulled back, and remained that way long enough that she opened her eyes again to find his face inches from her own. “You’re not going to marry Eris,” he said roughly.
“No,” she breathed.
His eyes blazed. “There will be no one else. For either of us.”
“Yes,” she whispered.
“Ever,” he promised.
Nesta laid a hand on his muscled chest, letting the thunderous beating of the heart beneath echo into her palm. Let it travel down her arm, into her own chest, her own heart. “Ever,” she swore.
It was all he needed. All she needed.
Cassian’s mouth met hers, and the world ceased to exist.
The kiss was punishing and exalting, thorough and frenzied, a claiming and a yielding. She had no words for it. She flung her arms around him, pressing as close as she could get, meeting his tongue stroke for stroke.
He growled and nudged her back toward the bed, his mouth devouring and tasting and saying everything she couldn’t yet voice, but one day, maybe soon, she could. For him, she’d fight to find the courage to say it.
The backs of her legs hit the mattress, and he broke their kiss to attend to their clothes.
She expected tearing and rending. But he gently removed her dress, fingers trembling as they unhooked each button down the back of her gown. Her own trembled as she removed his shirt.
Then they were naked, and staring at each other again with those unspoken words in their eyes, and she let him lay her upon the bed. Let him climb atop her.
There was nothing rough or wild about what followed.
She didn’t want his head between her legs. Didn’t even want his fingers. When he slid one down the center of her, she let him feel that she was ready and then took his hand, interlacing their fingers as her other wrapped around his cock and guided him toward her.
He nudged at her entrance, and then halted. His eyes met hers.
And then Cassian kissed her deeply as he slid home.
She gasped. Not at the fullness of having him inside her—but at that thing in her chest. The thing that thundered and beat wildly as he looked at her again, slid out nearly to the tip, and thrust back in.
On that second thrust, the thing in her chest—her heart … On that second thrust, it yielded entirely to him.
On his third, he kissed her again.
On the fourth, Nesta twined her arms around his head and neck and held him there as she kissed and kissed and kissed him.
On the fifth, the walls of that inner fortress of ancient iron came down. Cassian pulled away, as if sensing it, and his eyes flared as they met her own.
But he kept moving in her, making love to her thoroughly, unhurriedly. So Nesta let all that lay beyond those iron walls unspool toward him. Thread after thread of pure golden light flowed into him, and he met it with his own. Where those threads wove together, life glowed like starfire, and she had never seen anything more beautiful, felt anything more beautiful.
She was crying, and she didn’t know why—only that she never wanted it to end, this binding between them, the feeling of him moving so deep in her that she wanted him imprinted beneath her skin. His tears dripped onto her face, and she reached up to brush them away. He leaned his head into her hand, nuzzling her palm.
“Say it,” Cassian whispered against her skin.
She knew what he meant. Somehow, she knew what he meant.
Nesta waited until he’d thrust again, driving as deep into her as he’d ever gone, and whispered, “You’re mine.”
He groaned, thrusting hard.
She whispered, “And I am yours.” Those golden threads between their very souls shone with the words, as if they formed a harp strummed by a heavenly hand.
For it was music between their souls. Always had been. And his voice was her favorite melody.
“Nesta.” She heard the plea in her name. He was close, and wanted her to go with him. Wanted to tumble into ecstasy together. It was important to him, for some reason, that for this joining, this moment, they went as one.
Cassian lowered his head to her breast, teeth clamping around her nipple as his tongue flicked against it.
It was all Nesta needed to spur her toward climax. She moaned, and he did it again, timing his tongue to the hard thrust of his cock. Again, again.
The golden threads shimmered and sang, and she couldn’t take it, the music between their souls, the feel of his body on her and in her, and—
Release blasted through her, obliterating every last bit of that inner wall, razing mountains and forests, wiping the world clean with light and pleasure, stars crashing down from the heavens in a never-ending rain.
Cassian roared as he came, and the sound was the summons of a hunt, a symphony, a single clear horn playing as dawn broke over the world.
There was only this moment, this thing shared between them, and it lasted for an eternity. Time was of no consequence. Time had always stood still around him, around them.
He spilled and spilled himself into her, longer than ever before, as if he’d been holding himself back all the times before now, as if he had let his own inner wall come crumbling down.
Forever, forever, forever.
The word was echoed in their every breath, every pounding of their hearts, so in sync that they seemed to beat as one.
Then silence fell, exquisite and serene, and Cassian remained buried in her, staring down at her with wonder and joy in his face.
Nesta reached up to kiss him.
One kiss led to another and another, and hunger rose like the tide within her, between them. And then Cassian was moving in her again, faster and harder, and time ceased to exist once more.
Hours later, days and weeks and months and millennia later, when they were both finally spent, when their souls had cleaved together entirely, Cassian pulled out of her and collapsed against the bed.
Nesta could hardly remember words. But she found them when she whispered into the darkness, “Stay with me.”
A shudder rocked through him, but he only smiled as he tucked her into his side.
And warm and safe and home at last in Cassian’s arms, Nesta slept.
CHAPTER
59
Nesta opened her eyes.
She knew she was warm and content, though it took her a moment to remember the reason. To realize she was still in Cassian’s arms. She reveled in it. Savored each breath that brushed against her temple, felt the press of his fingers along her lower back. A calm settled over her, strikingly similar to what she felt when she did her daily Mind-Stilling.
Cassian awoke soon after, giving her a sleepy, sated smile. It softened into something tender, and for long minutes, they lay there, staring at each other, Cassian idly brushing his hand down her back. Caressing soon turned to more fervent touching, and as the dawn broke, they tangled again, their lovemaking thorough and unhurried.
When she again lay sweating and panting beside him, running a finger down the groove of his muscled stomach, Nesta murmured, “Good morning.”