She believed Marc when he said she was his heart. She understood it too, because he was her heart as well. For the first time in her life, she truly knew what love was. It wasn’t greedy or confining, it was giving and freeing. Marc would have given up his home and family for her. That meant everything.
His clever fingers tugged on her nipples, bringing a fresh surge of cream from between her thighs. Today was the first day of the rest of their lives and Kathryn wanted to celebrate being alive and being with Marc.
The hard length of his cock pressed against her and she shifted slightly, rubbing her clitoris against it. It felt so good she did it again.
Marc lay beneath her, solid and warm. “Take me inside you.” He murmured.
“Claim me as your own.”
Hers.
He truly belonged to her as she belonged to him.
Raising her hips, she reached between her legs and wrapped her hand around his pulsing shaft. When he groaned, she pumped her hand up and down several times, licking her lips when liquid seeped from the tip.
“Kathryn.” He said her name on a groan.
She no longer wanted to wait either, needing to feel him deep inside her body.
Fitting the head of his cock to her opening, she slowly lowered herself. Her inner muscles stretched, encompassing his girth and length until he was all the way inside.
Sitting on him, she wiggled slightly, wanting to make sure she had every last bit of him within her.
He clamped his hands around her hips, stilling her. “It will be over too soon if you keep that up.”
Delighted, she laughed. She’d never thought of herself as a very sexual woman before she met Marc. He brought out another side of her. One she wanted to explore.
“Like that idea, do you?” he teased as he squeezed the globes of her ass. This time it was Kathryn who moaned. Then he ran his finger over the dark cleft of her behind, rimming the puckered opening.
“Yes. No.” She no longer knew what they were even talking about. Her body and her soul were on fire for the man beneath her. The primitive need to claim him welled up within her, urging her to move.
Following her instincts, she raised up on her knees until only the wide head of his cock was still within. Then she sat down heavily, driving him deep. Her inner muscles rippled. It felt so good that she did it again and again.
Marc stroked over her slick folds as she rose, coating his fingers with her cream before returning to her behind. This time when he rimmed her ass, he pushed inward.
The tight muscles protested slightly and then gave as his finger slid inside.
With his cock in her pussy and his finger in her ass, she felt surrounded by Marc.
He let his finger slide, keeping time as she continued to lift and lower her sheath over his straining cock. She could feel him swelling inside her and knew he was close.
“Marc,” she cried his name, not quite knowing what she wanted.
He withdrew his finger and pulled her down on top of him. Her breasts crushed against the hard planes of his chest as his mouth captured hers. Then he rolled, keeping them joined from mouth to pelvis.
He truly surrounded her now, his weight a delicious reminder of the differences in their sizes and strengths. Yet, they were equal when it came to the passion raging between them.
Releasing her lips, he left a trail of hot, wet kisses on his way to her breasts. He sucked one nipple and then the other, until she was almost mindless with pleasure.
Release hovered just out of reach.
Planting her feet against the mattress, she pushed upward. Marc sat back on his heels, hooked his arms beneath her thighs, spread her legs wide and began to thrust.
His hips pumped hard and fast.
There was nothing she could do but dig her hands into the covers beneath her and hang on as he took them both over the edge. They came at the same moment, an explosion of sensation. She cried out as her hips jerked. The hot flood of his semen filled her, lengthening her orgasm until it felt as if it would never stop. He tilted back his head, the cords of his neck straining as he came.
Eventually, his chin dropped forward onto his chest, his long hair obscuring his face. He lowered her legs and slid away from her. She couldn’t bear the separation and tugged him down into her arms. He came readily, dropping onto the mattress beside her. Curling his arm around her, he pulled her into the curve of his shoulder.
“You’re mine,” she whispered as she toyed with a strand of his brown hair.
Slowly, he raised his face, his expression solemn. “I am…and you are mine.” It was a pledge, a promise, that neither one of them would ever forsake.
“Destiny is a funny thing,” she began, walking her fingers over his chest.
“It is,” he agreed as he cupped her breast in his hand.
She stilled. “Again?” she gasped almost breathless at the thought.
“Again.” He smiled as he lowered his mouth to hers, their lips touching in a tender caress.
It was several hours later before Kathryn thought about what she’d meant to say to Marc. They’d gotten sidetracked. She wrapped her arms around herself and laughed, just thinking about what they’d done. He couldn’t seem to get enough of her.
Destiny was a funny thing. She’d found the tattered book in the attic. Inside its pages she’d first met Marc. Then she’d discovered the journal and the tapestry. All of it had led her here. She could almost here Sarainta’s laughter echoing in her mind.
Our lives are bound. Connected with the finest of threads, which reach across time and space to touch and knit together to form something new.
“Threads of destiny,” she whispered as she picked up her purse in search of her brush. Her hand struck something soft and square. Wrapping her fingers around it, she tugged out the journal, opening it to the final page she’d read. But there was now more writing scrawled across the paper.
Sitting down on the edge of the bed, she read her own story. She knew that the journal didn’t pass judgment on the choices people made. That could only be done by the people who made them—for good or for bad.
She sighed and started to shut the book but something made her flip through the blank pages at the back. Writing jumped out and she stopped. The page was blank except for two names—Tienan and Logan.
Her heart began to pound. Maybe she would find out what happened to them.
Someday. Her fingers traced over the empty page, willing more writing to appear but it remained unchanged.
Perhaps at some point in the future the tapestry would bring them back to Javara.
But she didn’t really believe that would happen. The tapestry’s magic was in its ability to seek out women who could thrive here. She knew the secret of calling the tapestry but she had no idea how to make it bring her friends back to her. Even magic had logic and rules governing it. Maybe in time, she’d understand more.
The door to the room opened and Marc stepped inside. “Are you ready?” Kathryn closed the journal and tucked it and her brush back into her purse. Her heart felt lighter. If their names were in there, she at least knew that they were still alive.
That was something.
Rising, she shook out the folds of the pretty green dress that Christina had brought her. The bodice was embroidered with colorful flowers and the sleeves went all the way to her wrists. The fabric was fitted to the waist and then fell in soft folds all the way to her ankles. On her feet were soft, leather shoes. She normally didn’t like dresses but today was different. Today she was marrying the man she loved.
“I’m ready.” Walking over to Marc, she took his hand.
He raised her fingers to his lips and kissed it. “Together.”
“Together,” she echoed as they walked down the stairs to the crowd waiting below.