Copper Veins(78)

I spied Juliana in the corner by the kitchen. Despite all that had happened, I liked having someone else with me here in the Otherworld. I mean, if I’d had her to talk to, I probably wouldn’t have done half of the dumb stuff I’d done since moving here. If nothing else, at least she would have helped me hide the evidence.

Juliana caught me looking at her and offered a tentative smile. I smiled back, even though my heart wasn’t in it. I really didn’t know if I could ever trust her again, no matter how much I wanted to.

However, the fact that most everyone was scattered about the room meant that Micah and I had the luxurious couch all to ourselves. I don’t know if “couch” was the exact right term, since it was really a knot of gnarled vines and roots topped with many cushions. What I did know was that it was the most comfortable seat I’d ever had.

But then, that owed a lot more to Micah than some feathers and silk. He’d burrowed his back into the corner, with his knees drawn up to his chest. I sat between his legs, my cheek against his chest while his arms encircled my shoulders. A thick, soft blanket covered us to our waists. If there really was a heaven, this was it for me.

“I love you,” I murmured. In return he kissed the back of my neck near my hairline.

“And I love you, wife.” His warm breath stirred me, stirred something deep. Before I could suggest we move to another location, Dad’s story ended, and he and Mom got to their feet.

“Again, I cannot hope to thank you,” Dad said to Micah. “For keeping my family safe in my absence. I am truly indebted.”

“They managed their safety quite well without me,” Micah replied, gripping my father’s hand. “You taught them well, Baudoin.”

Dad ducked his head at that and let Mom lead him away to their rooms. I moved to rise as well, but Micah’s arms tightened around me.

“Do not move,” he breathed in my ear.

“Micah,” I began to protest, then he shifted and I felt his erection digging into my back. We still hadn’t consummated our marriage what with the many interruptions we’d had, including my false father, along with my former best friend, showing up and leading us to my real father. Yeah, it’s been pretty hectic since the wedding.

“Micah,” I whispered, “here?”

“Here,” he insisted. When I tried to protest, he continued, “Whenever I try to create the perfect moment with you, it collapses around us. No more will I plan, no more will I wait. I will take this moment, and I will make it perfect.”

Well, I couldn’t really argue with that, could I? Micah resumed nibbling my neck, then he slid his hands around my waist and underneath my shirt, palms flat against my ribs. Soon, Juliana stood and left the room—a few minutes later, Max, and then Sadie, wandered off to bed, leaving Micah and me alone in the sitting room. Neither of us said anything, but then we didn’t have to. We both wanted the same thing.

Micah slid his hands up my torso and arms, and my shirt was off before I knew what was happening. Then I was on my back and he was above me, his own chest deliciously bare, and he bent to kiss me. While we kissed the rest of our clothing disappeared as well, and Micah made his way down my body. He was gentle, as he always was, but I didn’t want gentle. I wanted him.

Once Micah reached my thighs I shuddered and nearly cried out, and I bit a cushion—hard—to keep the others from hearing me and investigating. It was only then that I realized the one thing he hadn’t done.

“My mark,” I panted. When Micah raised his head and quirked a brow, I elaborated, “You haven’t touched my mark.”

It was true—I was flat on my back on the couch, and he hadn’t so much as grazed my mark, nor had I touched his. We’d always stroked and nibbled each other’s marks in the past, before, during, and after our lovemaking.

Micah merely smiled. “Do I need to?”

Then he was standing above me, bare caramel skin glowing in the dim firelight, the evidence of his arousal plain. “Um, no.”

He laughed softly, then he settled himself between my thighs. “Really, here?” I asked, still slightly aghast that he was about to make love to me in the most public area of the manor.

“Here.” Then he grabbed my hips and thrust forward. And I…I had never been so happy in my life, making love to my husband for the first time.

“I miss the oaks,” I murmured afterward as we lay beneath the blanket, my head tucked against Micah’s throat. “That was nice.”

“It was,” he agreed, pressing a kiss to my temple. “But I prefer having you as my wife.” I felt his face stretch into a smile, and he added, “While the oaks did an admirable job of keeping us safe, you will learn that I will move both heaven and earth just to make you smile.”