Huh. Maybe this witchcraft thing had something going for it after all.
Marcus grinned down at Beka, who looked deservedly pleased with herself. “Nice trick,” he said. “What else you got?”
She cocked her head to one side for a moment, thinking, and then reached up to kiss him softly, biting his bottom lip playfully when she was done. Marcus almost forgot to breathe, undone by the sheer glory that was Beka.
She seemed to be having a tough time breathing, too, blue eyes dilated and wide. “Your turn,” she said. “Surely you know a magic trick or two.”
He grinned and scooped her up, tossing her onto the futon and then pulling it out into a bed with her still riding along. She shrieked with surprise, giggling up at him in an irresistible combination of innocence and smoldering sexiness that went right to his head. He flopped down next to her, kissing her neck and wandering up to nibble on her earlobe.
“I learned that one from you,” he whispered in her ear. “But I’ve got a few tricks of my own that I’ll be happy to show you.”
Thunder shook the bus, echoing the pounding of his heart as he sat up and slowly unfastened every button on the front of her white lace dress. There must have been thirty or forty of them, all tiny and slippery under his large fingers, but he didn’t care; what lay beneath was worth the wait. He stared into her eyes as he went, loving the way she watched him back, clearly wanting him as much as he wanted her.
Finally, he slid the dress off of her, revealing all that enticing, tanned, soft, silky skin. No bra restrained the full, pale mounds of her breasts, and he smiled at that, leaning down to suckle gently at their rosy tips.
“The Queen of the Otherworld doesn’t believe in underwear?” he said, both aroused and amused by the unexpected sight.
Beka gave him a mischievous grin. “What would faeries want with underwires and thongs?” she asked, and then let out a small gasp, closing her eyes as he sucked a little harder.
They gave up on speaking after that, too enraptured by the touching and scent and the sounds of the pleasure they gave each other, small gifts of demand and response, all accompanied by the forceful, rhythmic music of the storm that seemed to rage as much within them as it did in the sky without.
Marcus explored every inch of Beka’s lovely long and supple body, marveling at each dip and curve, the gentle swell of breast and hip, the perfect indentation of her belly button, the hidden mysteries below.
And in return, she ran greedy fingers and tongue over all of him, until they were both gasping and clutching and kissing with such ardor that it seemed the candles were the smallest flame, the tiniest light in the room.
Beka shone beneath him like the ethereal luminosity of the full moon, like the sun on a perfect hot July afternoon, like hope at the end of the darkest hour. Together, it seemed that they could reach new heights that neither could have achieved alone.
Finally, finally, he sank himself deep inside her, rocking and thrusting and stroking until they reached those heights in a fiery climax of passion and glory and joy, accompanied by one final clap of thunder that seemed to rock the entire world.
As they lay together in a sprawl of damp limbs and satisfaction, the storm eased to a gentle rain, and one by one, the candles guttered out until only a few remained. Beka heaved a sigh and snuggled closer, slipping into a relaxed drowse with the hint of a smile lingering on her lips.
Marcus pulled her tight, not willing to sleep and miss a single minute of the best interlude of his entire life. Especially since he had no idea if he would ever come close to this kind of happiness ever again.
What they’d shared had been magical—more magical than dogs that were really dragons, or enchanted beings out of storybooks. But what it meant, he had no way of knowing.
Had they been saying “yes” to each other or saying good-bye?
* * *
THE RAIN EASED to a drizzle and then stopped just as the sun was going down. Beka woke after a while, looking as dazed and unsettled as he felt, and made them a dinner that neither of them tasted.
Chewie came back in as they were pushing the food around on their plates and finished off the lot, muttering dire imprecations all the while about Humans and idiocy and something that sounded like s’mores. Marcus ignored him, and Beka just patted him absently on the head, alternately smiling at nothing and frowning into space as though looking at a future she didn’t like. He had a feeling she wasn’t envisioning anything that wound up with “and they all lived happily ever after.”
He’d tried calling his father, but the phone at the house just rang and rang. So he’d stayed with Beka, feeling alternately guilty and relieved, but mostly just happy to have a few more moments in her company.