She kept herself alert by keeping her mind busy. There was still much to be done in the keep and she began to make a mental list. Engrossed in her task, it took a yawn to shake her out of it and that was when she heard a barely detectable sound. She listened a few moments and realized what she heard was a light snore coming from her husband.
Happy he slept, she turned over to lie on her other side facing his back. She would be ready to help him if necessary. She sighed softly, content. She was where she wanted to be, where she needed to be. They couldn’t forge a good and loving future together if distance was kept between them. She was here in his bed to stay and would help fight his nightmares with him.
The sword was heavy, blood thick on its blade, but it didn’t matter. All that mattered was to survive. To fight until the last breath. The battle raged on, screams and moans filled the air, warriors dropped one after another. Women ran screaming. Chaos and madness reigned.
Would it never end?
Fight. Fight. Don’t stop. You have to do this. You have to live. You have to find the one you love.
There were too many bodies. Too much blood.
Where are you? Where are you? I must find you! I must! I need to protect you, keep you safe.
More warriors rushed forward. Too many!
Run!
No, I have to find you. I have to.
“No! No! Let me go! Let me go!”
“Oria wake up. Wake up. I’m here. You’re safe. I won’t let anyone harm you.”
Royden’s strong voice yanked her out of her nightmare to find herself in his arms. Her arms shot out to wrap around his neck. “Don’t let me go, Royden. Please don’t let me go.”
“Never!” he said, his arms tightening around her.
He had woken to her thrashing around beside him, her face a mask of fear, and whimpering like a wounded animal, then crying out, “I must find you. I must.” He had grabbed her to wake her, but she had fought him. He was never more relieved when she woke, though she had yet to calm. Her body trembled against him and he held her so tight that he could feel her heart thumping madly against his bare chest.
“I couldn’t find you,” she whispered, though it sounded more like a gasp, her breathing still labored.
“I’m right here, mo ghaol, and I’m not going anywhere,” he said, giving her a squeeze to confirm it.
Oria wanted to believe him, but the past warned that what we want isn’t always what we get. Fate had a way of robbing you of things and leaving you to deal with the consequences. She was tired not only of others ruling her life, but Fate as well. It was time she took control.
Oria’s cheek rested against, Royden’s and she moved her head slowly so her lips brushed across his, then whispered, “We’ve wasted enough time. Let’s not waste anymore.”
A hundred reasons ran through his head why it was a bad idea, but no longer did any make sense and without hesitation his lips came down on hers in a crushing kiss.
He warned himself to go slow and easy that there was no reason to rush. It wasn’t like after battle when sensations overwhelmed and he’d been desperate for relief. And yet he felt that desperation building in him now. He’d had a need for Oria that had never been satisfied and it had grown over the years. He had wanted her then and he wanted her even more now.
He moved his lips off hers, breathing deeply as he rested his cheek against her flushed one, needing to keep control. He jumped when he felt her hand take hold of his shaft and innocently run her hand along it, then grip it tight. He feared he’d explode there and then.
“Let go, Oria,” he warned gruffly.
“I want him inside me,” she whispered and nipped at his neck.
He felt his control slip a notch and he couldn’t let that happen. He stiffened when she began to caress his shaft and continued to warn himself to hold on, keep control.
She breathed softly near his ear. “He’s eager to finally settle where he belongs—inside me.”
His control slipped another notch. One more and he feared the savage would break free.
Oria thought she would go mad with how badly she desired him, how badly her most intimate parts throbbed uncontrollably for him, and how wet she had grown in anticipation of him finally slipping inside her. He couldn’t deny her. He couldn’t. She wouldn’t let him.
She slowly ran her fingers along his thick, wide shaft, admiring its size and anticipating the pleasure it would bring her, bring them both. Her finger caught a drop of wetness off the tip and pure desire and a dash of instinct had her bringing her finger to her mouth and licking it.