Page 90 of The Truth-Teller's Bargain
But what did freedom mean, if she had to say goodbye to him?
“What do you want?” Alethea asked, barely above a whisper.
“I want a great deal of things.” His voice was a soft murmur in the hush of the night. “But more than anything, I want you to have the life you deserve.” He kissed her head once more, and she closed her eyes, savoring what it could be like to be treasured and adored and... perhaps even loved by this man.
“What if what I want...” She faltered for a moment, exhaustion dragging her further and further from consciousness. “Is you?”
Nakir inhaled sharply but wrapped his arms tighter around her. He didn’t speak for several minutes. She was nearly asleep when she heard him say it.
“Then I’m yours.”
“The burden of an Oracle is heavy.
But heavier still is what others demand of them once their curse is known.
I have buried too many truths to write this gently.”
—ON THE NATURE OF ORACLES AND THEIR BURDENS, BY JASPER HAWTHORNE
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Hearth’s Moon, Day 1.
Alethea awoke with Nakir’s arms still around her, cocooned in a warmth that felt almost otherworldly in the chilly winter morning. The room was dim, the faint light of dawn casting a soft glow upon the walls. She slowly sat up next to him, careful not to disturb his slumber with her movements. Early-morning sun filtered in through the east-facing windows, painting intricate patterns of light and shadow across the room.
“Mmm,” Nakir murmured, his hands instinctively reaching out to pull her closer as he stirred from sleep. His touch was gentle yet possessive, his fingers tracing patterns on her skin as if he could read her very soul. “Come back,” he ordered in a soft, sleepy tone, his eyes still closed but his voice carrying a quiet authority that made her heart flutter.
She smiled at his drowsy command, unable to resist. Silently, she obeyed, moving back into the circle of his arms. The warmth of his body enveloped her against, a sanctuary against the chill.The steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath her ear was a comforting lullaby, easing the knots of uncertainty that had settled in her stomach.
Her breath hitched in her throat as she pressed herself against him and found him already hard. At this simple noise, he made a small, low sound against her skin.
“Don’t mind me,” he growled, his voice low. “I dreamed of you last night and woke up next to you this morning. I’m going to think about your screams all day today.”
His words hung in the air, laden with desire, leaving Alethea momentarily breathless.
Nakir’s touch was featherlight, exploring the contours of her naked body with a reverence that sent shivers down her spine. His fingers moved with purpose, mapping out the landscape of her curves, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. Each touch felt like a promise. She closed her eyes, surrendering to the intoxicating sensations enveloping her. Nakir’s touch was a language of its own, speaking volumes without uttering a single word.
“Should we get back to camp?” she asked, breathless.
With a slow, deliberate intensity, he explored every inch of her, his mouth a fusion of heat and desire. The sensation of his teeth grazing across the sensitive spots he discovered made her gasp, the pleasure and the slight sting shooting straight to her core. A whimper escaped her lips as he turned her over so her back was pressed to his chest, his cock firm against her backside.
“Not yet.”
Alethea was already boneless from the memories of the previous night. She pressed herself against the warmth of him, mewling when his hand slipped between her legs and found her already slick with want. Her fingers found purchase in his hair, grasping at the strands as if seeking an anchor in the waves of pleasure his touch brought. She arched her back and opened herknees involuntarily, offering herself more fully to his ministrations.
“Nakir,” she whined when he only slid himself along the wetness of her, the head of his cock pressing right past that sensitive nub.
“Nakir,what?”
Oh gods, he was going to drive her wild, always making her declare what she wanted.
“I want you.”
“Yes, love.”
She gasped as he finally filled her again, the sensation overwhelming and incredible. Alethea’s breaths came in shallow, uneven gasps, her heart pounding in her chest as she surrendered to the way he wrought pleasure from her body.
“Fuck, Thea.” He drew out in a long, slow slide and thrust back into her again in one solid motion. This time, the new angle had her reeling and moaning against him. One of his arms wrapped underneath her and held her firm to him, while the other stayed between her legs, tormenting the sensitive nub there. It was so much all at once—all she could do was grasp desperately at the sheets while he tortured her with his deliberately slow pace.
