The Yarian (Women of Dor Nye Book 3)
Page 25
“For now, that’ll do.”
“Good.” He laid a hand against her ribs, another on the nape of her neck as he pulled her to him, closing the gap between their bodies.
Finley reached up, pinching his chin between her fingers before she said, “Now, shut up and kiss me.”
Hunter narrowed his eyes. “So demanding.”
She let herself grin before his full lips fell on hers. He sucked and pulled on her lips with such reverence, and so slow, agonizingly slow, like he wanted to savor every moment of the embrace.
Her fingernails dug into his shoulders, her mind going blissfully white as her heart thump-thumped in her chest.
She missed this. Missed him, even more than she realized. No longer did she feel half dead, but fully alive and sparking with electricity.
The crowd she’d forgotten was there, softly chuckled, gently applauding and tugging her back down from the clouds.
Fin pulled up for air, smiling against Hunter’s lips and said, “Take me home, my Shu’Lee.”
EPILOGUE
Hunter watched Finley with hunger as she danced in the crowd of their people. Just then, she caught his stare and rushed toward him.
“Come dance with me!” She tugged on his hand, and he allowed her to pull him into the throng of swaying bodies.
It was the celebration for the joining of a young couple in the village, and the flames of the fires reached toward the darkness above, the glow bathing his mate in warmth.
He would never get tired of watching her.
The village had welcomed her home with open arms months ago. Immediately, they’d resumed their life together.
It was tough, working through their issues, and often his fiery temper would get the best of him. Yet every night, there she was, welcoming him back into her arms.
After a good earful, that is.
Ah, my stubborn Mi’ska.
It got easier, confiding in her. Hunter found it therapeutic, even, confessing the nightmares of his captivity, of Harava.
Finley listened, touched his skin, and reminded him those people could never touch him, hurt him, again.
Every day, his love for her grew until he was sure there was no more room within him. The morning she confessed her half truth about being unable to have younglings, he expected to feel angry, resentful.
But no, he’d only felt joy.
Leeshi had never forsaken him.
Suddenly, his future was worth looking forward to. Not because of her confession, but because he had her.
His gaze refocused on Finley, and once again, she stole kisses from him, and he felt himself seeking her lips every chance he could get.
Her small hand tugged at him once more, pulling him from the crowd.
“I’ll race you home,” she teased.
“I won’t let you win, Mi’ska!”
Finley tossed back her head and laughed, her dark mane swaying. He felt himself grinning.
Once they were outside their door, he wrapped his fingers around her slim wrist, pulling her against his chest. Her scent, her voice, her little sighs, they drove him mad.
“I win.” She smiled up at him, as he smoothed his hand over her soft hair. “Now, you’re mine.”
Hunter’s chest rumbled with unspent laughter.
He agreed.
“I am yours.”
- THE END -