His lips against mine held a light magic, pulling me into a delicious limbo as the masculine-tasting energy he had filled me with slowly returned to him until our balances equalized. He’d shown me he could give, and I opened my eyes, my need for him growing stronger. He was beautiful over me, with his shirt open and the light of Cincinnati outlining him, making delicious shadows for my fingertips to explore.
“We are both wearing too much,” I said.
“That was my thought, as well.”
He reached for my waistband, and I ran my hands over his shoulders, gripping him tight as I pulled up so he could shimmy everything off. His own pants were kicked aside, and then he was back, easing down over me with a careful, demanding weight.
Delight filled me as I ran my nails down his back trailing ley line energy and he shivered, his lips on me hesitating a bare instant before bearing down harder. As his lips found mine again, I poured magic into him, feeling a sudden throbbing in my hands where I held him.
Oh, God, yes, I thought as his knee pushed my thighs open, and I slid my hands down even more, guiding him in. Warm and taut, smooth and exhilarating, he slipped into me in one easy move, his weight starting a rhythm that pulled me into motion. Every part of me seemed alight, and holding him to me as we moved, I let the barest hint of magic slip to him.
Trent shuddered. “No, don’t stop,” he almost grunted when I eased back, afraid it had been too much, and my hands spasmed as he pushed into me again in one glorious motion. Tingles raced through me from the inside, and I groaned as new paths burned through my synapses in a delicious sensation.
I reached up, my hands behind his neck, my breath fast as my lips found him. I wanted more, and as we moved with each other, he gave me everything, each rocking motion ending with a little jolt until I was gasping for air, wild with need.
“Oh, God. Now . . .” I moaned, fingers clamped tightly on his shoulders, straining for fulfillment, just out of reach.
“More?” he whispered, but he was slowing, and, with a panting gasp, I found I could bear one more instant of waiting. I could.
“Yes,” I whimpered, almost dying from need. “Yes.”
Again Trent pushed into me, his breath held as I shuddered, shaking under him as ley line energy overflowed and set me to a slow burn. “More?” he rasped, begging me to say yes.
“Yes . . .” I said, strained, and my hands fixed on him, groaning as he pulled back, tingles racing through me as energy flowed like fire between us, stretching to the breaking point.
“Again . . .” he choked, and then he pushed deep, tipping me into heaven.
I shook under him as I climaxed, my body claiming the energy flowing between us with the quickness of a whipcrack. Trent groaned as it left him, a massive shudder shaking him as he reached fulfillment as well. Atop me, he strained, our breath mingling as our souls chimed and the energy we had been playing with rocked back and forth, slowly equalizing in ever-lessening waves. I could feel him everywhere, suffusing me, making me feel loved and needed, our longing joined into one being. Belonging. Together.
And then he shifted, and it was over.
Pulse fast, I tried to catch my breath. I managed to get one eye open, and I looked at him above me, spent and wonderful. My hands eased from his shoulders, and his attention fell to me.
“Mmmm.” His head tilted, and he kissed me lightly, tasting of salt. “Why did we never try that before?”
“You weren’t ready,” I said, and he grinned. But it was tempered with the knowledge that he hadn’t been. It was more than trust, for he had trusted me for a long time. It was more than love, for we had shared that, too. It was the freedom, perhaps, to be vulnerable. For an elf, it might be the hardest thing of all.
Wincing, Trent carefully eased himself down beside me, shifting me sideways as we were still, ah, together. My hair was everywhere, and he pulled the afghan over us before arranging my curls so he could see me.
“Going to be a minute or two, huh?” he said, eyes flicking down, and I felt myself warm.
“After that? Yes,” I said, still embarrassed that my witch anatomy didn’t let go right away. Trent always seemed to take it as a compliment. All I knew was that it felt more than good as he held me on the floor of Ellasbeth’s apartment overlooking the entirety of Cincinnati.
“I’m not going back to Seattle when this is done,” Trent said.
“No?” I felt my muscles ease their grip as he brought reality back to my forethoughts.
“No.” He took a slow breath, and I felt his heart beat. “I don’t have to prove myself to them.” His gaze returned to me. “I’m glad you and Jenks decided to stay at the church. You’re right that my place is too far out to be of use for your job. But if you ever change your mind, there’s an office and spelling lab waiting for you off the great room.”
“Thank you,” I whispered, shifting my head against his chest so I wouldn’t have to look at his face. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to live with him, but the person I had become needed to be here. In the Hollows.
“My mother found it useful,” he said, voice wistful as if he knew my thoughts. “I know you would, too. When you are ready.” His fingers shifted my hair. “No rush. Anytime in the next fifty years or so is good.”
I smiled at that, and the hidden thread of tension in him relaxed as my muscles fully let go and he pulled himself from me with a happy sigh. “Fifty years?” I said, and he nodded.
“I’m not going anywhere,” he said.
“Me either,” I whispered, but my eyes were on the dark sky past him. Why, I wondered, do I keep risking my life when I have so much to live for? “Let’s just get to the sunrise intact, then see how it goes,” I added, and his hold on me tightened as if he’d never let go.
CHAPTER
27
I had offered to drive, which might have been a mistake. I was fidgety and nervous, and Jenks was eyeing me from the rearview mirror as if I’d lost it as I worked us through Cincy’s late-night traffic. I didn’t like going in with Trent. Oh, he knew his stuff and there was no one I’d rather have watching my back other than Jenks, but if I’d learned anything in the last few months, it was that both he and I would sacrifice anything to keep each other safe—and that made for second-guessing.
“I don’t see you,” Trent said, talking to David on his phone. “We’re almost there.”
I peered up at the arch of the wheel as I entered the park, the gaudy lights of the slowly spinning spokes and gondolas a stark contrast to the black sky.
Jenks clattered his wings. “There he is,” he said, and I followed his gaze to a dark storefront. “Next to the Skyline Chili kiosk.”