Alvina and Quinn have never been further apart, but their connection to the spirits might be what reconnects them again.
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Quinn av Stál is slowly losing his mind. He's sure of that, and the only thing keeping him together is his fiancé Islo Charr...
Islo rose too and came up behind me. "How about I join you?" he whispered.
"Can you really think of that right now?"
"Please." His voice turned needy as he kissed my cheek. "Help me forget for just a moment."
I grabbed his hand and fitted my fingers in between his. "Fine. Join me then. But you're going to scrub my back, and you're going to like it."
He smiled very widely and nodded. "Yes, my king."
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I was so incredibly bored. Islo had fallen asleep ages ago, but I couldn't sleep. I was just staring up at the ceiling and I kept thinking of the Aatskina tribe. I had had many friends from that tribe. Hell, Al had linage from there through her mother. Aatskina was a part of us. Not me, but this country. We had to stop the rebels before an all-out war broke out.
Islo murmured something in his sleep and I turned my head, looking at him. He looked plagued. He had complained about bad dreams haunting his nights. And he'd sometimes wake up with cold sweat covering his body. He'd curl up to me and hold me so tight, I almost couldn't breathe.
I was happy I could support him through this. He was ridiculously easy to support because he told me exactly what he needed. I was never in doubt when he needed me. And sometimes he didn't have to say anything. He could just look at me in a certain way and I'd be by his side in seconds.
He needed to be touched a lot. Hugs. Affection. Love. He needed a lot of love. And I had so much to give. So much I wanted to burst sometimes.
I turned towards him and softly kissed him. His expression softened immediately, and he kissed me back. Tiredly at first and then he deepened it.
My hand slid over his soft stomach and further down.
"Quinn," he breathed as I circled my hand around him. "It's so late."
"Yeah," I murmured. "But I want you now."
He chuckled and raised himself up, kissing me again. I moaned into the kisses. I loved kissing him. Sometimes more than anything else. That probably made me a total teenager, but I loved his mouth. It was so ridiculously soft, and he was an amazing kisser. The way he was pressing his tongue against mine, curling it around mine. And he never gave too much. Most of the time he didn't give enough, and he knew that. He was deliberately teasing me, leaving me starved for more.
"Come here," he murmured and grabbed my hip, pulling me flush to him. He undressed me slowly, as if he was unwrapping a gift, sliding my shirt off my shoulders. He kept kissing my newly exposed skin feather softly.
Then, he moved down and kissed my chest, running his tongue over my skin. I couldn't hold back a high-pitched moan, my fingers slipping into his dark curly hair.
He came back up again and kissed me on the mouth, chuckling as I moaned again. His fingers were doing amazing things to me.
I latched on to his shoulders and kissed him deeply. He groaned into my mouth and grabbed my thigh, pulling me closer yet. He put my leg around his hips and readjusted before pushing inside of me. I whimpered loudly and he stopped.
