Shadowsworn

Chapter Fifteen - Tryst

The atmosphere crackled. She was engulfed in his scent, the aroma of burning embers and the lopan fruit soap he favoured, obliterating any of her logical sense. One hand gripped her hip firmly, the other trailing down her back leaving sparks in their wake. His hand slipped further down,  suddenly grasping her backside, eliciting a gasp and moan simultaneously from the enraptured pair.

Maxi took the opportunity to deepen the kiss, his lips soft but demanding. His tongue fighting her own for dominance. He was lost in her taste, like wildfire and honey.

She couldn't breath. But at this stage, the concept was lost on her. With a mind of their own, her hands made a path up his back, feeling every single plane of glorious taut muscle. Aria sighed in ecstasy at the fire burning within. And the wonder of his body, sculpted to perfection under years of rigorous training.

The sudden thought of their training brought her hurtling back down, like a bucket of ice water thoroughly dousing the flames. Planting a hand on his chest, she pushed him back slightly, breaking their trance and kiss.

"We can't do this Max," she stuttered, attempting to gulp down air.

Max groaned at the broken contact, "Can't you get out of your head for once and just feel it doll." He leaned forward, resting his forehead upon her own.

"It just complicates everything. We are partners. There can't be any emotions involved."

He winked at her, "No emotions, just sex."

"I think we both know that the connection between us is too strong. Just one kiss and I was ready to..." she abruptly cut off, glancing down.

"Ready to what?" He whispered, a leering tone to his deep voice.

"Max. Can you please put me down and remove your hands from my arse before I snap your fingers?" She gritted.

He looked down in surprise. Neither of them had realised in the heat of the moment. Entranced in their passion, Aria now had her legs wrapped firmly around his waist, his hands tightly holding her backside, and her back pinned against the cool wall. He sighed deeply, "If you say so doll. Even if it isn't what you really want, or need."

She slipped down his body, landing softly on her feet. This action alone almost broke her resolve. Even more so, after making eye contact, reading the lust in his playful glare.

Max tried to rein in the need to push her back to the wall. Taking a step back, peering away from her flushed face and swollen lips. He put his hands in his pockets to prevent himself from reaching out, turning away. He strolled with confidence back to the hidden entrance, pausing for a moment.

"You know what door to knock on, when your self restraint finally gives up little Ria."

Left alone in the room, she shook her head, cursing his cockiness. And his ability to read her so well. Despite his absence, she could still feel the flames licking at her skin, begging for release.

~

The watermill stood on the outskirts of Byri. Sitting on a minor river in Souvren's territory, it had been abandoned a few decades ago. And whilst it was overrun, it had stood the test of time. Michel saw to its upkeep. Just enough to guarantee its use for private encounters, or possible safe house. But not enough to cause suspicions.

Passing through the overgrowth, he ducked his head through the vines, passing over the threshold and into the tattered room. He kept moving, swiftly and with a sure tread. All meetings were conducted in the cellars, to keep the lanterns from alerting any possible passer-by. The door hinges appeared crusted in rust, and the panels riddled with rot. All a necessary illusion. He nodded to himself with a smile, pleased he wouldn't have to bolster the magic at this present time. He stepped into the darkness of the stairway, creeping down the wooden staircase, till the hints of light struck his eyes.