DOFAB#3

Chapter Thirty-Two

~ TRISTAN ~

"It's interesting." Acrylic pointed nails draw invisible swirls on my chest, a white peach of juicy perfection riddled with purplish marks of my overzealous expression. "I can hear your heart again, yet it still lives in me," Kinley says, referring to the black storm circulating in the confines of its new home.

"We're tied now." I continue caressing the arm she's using.

The mindless swirls she's drawing become a rune marking in her native tongue. It's honeysuckle, the flower the eevie use to depict everlasting bonds and unfettered happiness. A hardy plant known for its aromatic aroma. The difference between the two meanings in the way the symbols are drawn. Drawn with the flowers pointed down is to be rained on by sweet happiness. Drawn the way Kinley did, with the flower pointed up, it's saying, I'm rooted within you.

"You never got rid of the infirmest spell, did you?" she asks as I rub my thumb over one of the many love bites decorating her arm. This one in the shape of clotted blood.

"No."

Kinley lifts her head from my shoulder, folding her arms on my chest as she rests her chin, staring intently. She's usually easy to read, but this time she isn't. If she possessed the powers of compulsion, she'd be leveraging them this very moment.

"Did you mean what you said?" Her voice splits on the way out, the indifference she's attempting to uphold giving way to conflicting emotion. "That you're done fighting wars for me?"

There's no telling what's unfolding behind her captivating sea-greens. What wars she's reliving. All the blood I spilled in her name.

"Did you mean it when you said my mouth is all you'd ever need?"

The sadness of her expression turns a blush pink I wish would forever stain her cheeks. The wars quickly melting into the blood-pumping, sweat-glistening, and dying-goat-inducing night we shared.

"Tristan Darkos." She sits up, keeping the sheet from slipping down her frame. A move I'd rather her not have enacted. I don't ever want her to cover up in front of me. I want to see her as Rien intended only for himself. "Did you say that to emotionally manipulate me?" Kinley straddles me. Arms crossed over like a moth trying to crawl back into its silk cocoon. "I thought you professed to always give me the freedom to choose?"

"I'm a god." I bite the inner edge of my lip as her smooth thighs come underhand. The feel of them on either side of me. The heat of the spring between them waiting for these hands, this mouth, and the rest of me to reopen the nectar floodgates. "We always seek to steer those in our favor." The trifecta of my DaRaska still lies on my tongue, making my voice come out in candor of husked tones and wanton purrs. Kinley's blood, her juices, and the salty taste of sweat from our evening together a savor that beckons.

More of her.

More of us.

More for all eternity, as it always should have been.

With Kinley on top of me like this, we might as well be back in the courtyard garden. Moonlit moon drops surrounding us, her curled tresses trundling down her back as she rocked against me. At first, gentle and timid, lips trembling as the tension between our gaped mouths held the whole world. But I know how to set my siren ablaze. A simple tilt, a little added pressure here and there, and those stars she's fond of wandering will burn in wild abandonment. A slave to the rhythm of building pleasure. Puffed breaths of, it's too much. Tristan...Tristan...Tristan!

Small hands balled around sheets grab mine before they venture to temptation's spurting fountain. Kinley pins my arms to the bed, the view not one to complain about. Bones under flesh I could never want to remove. Peaks and valleys, a taut plain that leads to her innie-outie, and right beyond that, the apex that has my thrage teeming.