by Dee Brice
“Up the hill,” he interjected wryly. “If Snow intends to attract tourists, the council must make the springs’ paths more hospitable.”
“The public springs lie at the base of the mountain. These,” she explained as she led him up a path of warm stones, “are for our private use.”
“When I am old and bent I’ll not come here often.”
“Uh-huh.” She sent him a smile full of mischief.
“What secrets are you keeping now, Flame?”
“We are back to Flame, are we? You must want mating desperately.”
“Even when I am old and bent I’ll want to make love with you, Flame.”
Without a word, she stroked his cheek then continued up the path. “There is a legend about these particular springs. It promises that whenever true lovers mate in these waters they will always feel young and in love.”
“Even when they are old and bent?”
“Especially then.” She stopped and sniffed. “Honey and…”
“Chiordseross,” he provided when she hesitated. “I raise them, Flame, and know their scent.”
“Snow’s delegation said nothing about flowers growing here. Moreover, I believe the cold would make them freeze.”
“And yet their scent perfumes the air. Let’s see what lies ahead.”
She eyed him suspiciously but continued up the path. It narrowed, preventing their walking side by side but Aren didn’t mind. He had an enticing view of Kel’s derriere flexing with every step. Soon he would have his hands there, lifting her to him as they mated. Soon she would admit she loved him and acknowledge herself his wife.
The scent of honey and chiordseross surrounded them in the mist rising from the fucking spring. Kel stopped so suddenly Aren almost bumped into her.
“Oh Aren.” Her soft voice held a hint of tears. When she turned to him, they coursed down her cheeks. “Wretched man, you’ve known all along we were coming here.”
“I promised you a flower to match your splendor. This seemed the perfect place to show it to you.”
Chiordseross of every size and color wreathed the spring. On the far side of the water a half-dozen bloomed, their petals matching his bride’s red-gold curls, their stems and leaves her pale skin.
“I have no gift for you, Aren. Even if I did, nothing could match your gift to me.”
“There is only one gift I want from you, Flame. You know what it is.”
“Yes.”
Taking his hand, she led him into the smooth, scented spring. When they stood in its center she wreathed her arms around his waist and pressed her body to his. Her eyes were closed, robbing him of her thoughts. But when she opened them, her heart and all her love swirled in them.
“Flame,” he whispered against her lips, repeating her name as she took his shaft into her core.
“Mating… Loving you here… Now I am truly yours… Husband. Now I am truly your wife.”
About the Author
Dee believes she was born with a pen in one hand and a writing pad in the other. Determined not to work in an office, this wannabe actress never learned to type well. She still composes with pen and pad, then transcribes her manuscripts onto her computer. Sometimes Dee and her dictation program are best friends; more often they are mortal enemies.
Dee lives in northern California with her inspiration, best friend and husband. She loves to read and, of course, write. Passion’s Four Towers, her first published novel, was nominated for a Psyche Award in 2008. His Virtual Assassin finaled in Passionate Ink’s 2008 Passionate Plume contest.
Dee welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email address on her author bio page at www.ellorascave.com.
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Also by Dee Brice
His Virtual Assassin
His Virtual Virgin
Passion’s Treasures 1: Kerrie’s Quest for Passion
Passion’s Treasures 2: Passion’s Four Towers
Passion’s Treasures 3: Passion’s Twins
Discover for yourself why readers can’t get enough of the multiple award-winning publisher Ellora’s Cave. Whether you prefer e-books or paperbacks, be sure to visit EC on the web at www.ellorascave.com for an erotic reading experience that will leave you breathless.
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