What the Steam Brings

by Lexi Ostrow

  His hands moved to flick and twist at her pebbled breasts, and she arched against him, wanting more. Demanding more. She could feel him take a step forwards, pushing her backwards until her knees made contact with the bed. She crashed down onto it, with him following gently. Their mouths tore free as he went to remove her remaining clothing. Tristan shucked her bustle quickly, leaving a faint tearing sound in its wake.

  Her back arched, pushing her lower body closer to his. His mouth left hers, tongue dragging across her nipple when he touched her with it again. Digging her hands in his hair, she pulled him back to her. Needing his kiss as badly as she needed air. Mouths pressed closed together, she could hear her moan and smell the faint rise of lust in the heated room. Her hand slipped betwixt them and found his shaft, hard and ready. Rubbing her thumb over the tip, she wrapped her hand around him and stoked his prick. Her motions in rhythm with their tongues, her mind spun from the pleasure of him touching her and her hand on him.

  His hand reached betwixt her thighs, gently nudging her legs apart. She felt the cool sensation as he blew across her swollen nub, and her cry of pleasure was far louder than she’d meant for it to be. She felt his strong hands as his fingers gently pressed into her thighs, and his tongue dragged across her core, wringing another scream of pleasure from her lips. As his tongue moved, she lost herself in the sensation, and his prick slipped from her hold as she arched on the bed. His tongue was flicking and thrusting into her wet center, driving her as close to the edge as she had ever been, and then retreating to blow against her, before her release could take her.

  “Mi amore, if this is all we have. Then we will have it last,” he whispered his words against her inner thigh.

  She shivered at the scratch of his whiskers and the heat of his breath so close to her sex.

  When his tongue dipped inside of her again, stars outlined her vision. Her body twisted and lifted as she tried to pull him closer. She could think of nothing but her release. She longed to feel completed in a way only Tristan could make her. When his fingers pinched that nub of pleasure, she exploded around him. Her body twitched and rocked on the mattress, but Tristan did not let up. Rather, he continued to suck and lick at her until her orgasm had passed. His fingers rubbed against her, and she twisted again, her body tightening with desire as she felt the scruff of his beard drag across her inner thighs once more. Tristan was relentless as he continued to tease every last bit of release from her body.

  Shaking and panting heavily as her orgasm slowed to a still, she gently pulled at Tristan’s head, and smiled at him. She could feel her release still thrumming through her, but her body was far from being done with her husband. They had a year to make up for and a lifetime to atone for.

  “I have done nothing but wish for this, to taste you once more.” Her eyes locked on his as she sat up slightly, causing him to drop his arse on the bed, his prick proudly jutting up. Taking him again in her hand, she blew across the tip of him. With her gaze still locked on his, the intensity nearly driving her to another release, she enveloped his length in her mouth.

  Letting her tongue slid behind her lips, she took him all the way to the base. She felt the way his tip touched her throat as she slid her mouth up and down over him. She was trying to memorize what it was like, every detail to hold onto when this meeting was long done and all she had were memories.

  His hips thrust voraciously up, as hers had moments before, and she smiled around his length, enjoying the power she had over the man she loved. Sliding her tongue down his prick, swirling it in circles, she hallowed her cheeks and sucked deeply, knowing how much he had always reveled in that action when he’d been alive. His hands were in her hair, tugging her mouth in a rhythm that she knew had to be bringing him close to the end.

  Abruptly, he stopped, and his hands gently pulled her backwards until she was no longer wrapped around his shaft. “I want you to ride me. I want to bury myself so deep inside your body we will not know where mine stops and yours begins.”

  She’d never heard him speak that way to her and a rush of liquid pooled betwixt her thighs. A gasp pulled from her at his words as heated images danced across her mind to match the liquid heat surging below. All she could muster was a nod as she watched his muscled body move to lie beside her.

  He would not need to make the request twice.

  His hand wrapped around her waist, tugging her across his body, dragging her wet folds over his erect prick. The sparks from the brief connection sent a shiver of pleasure through her. Her hand wrapped around his length again as she moved to straddle him on the bed. Pressing the tip of him to her core, she slowly sunk down him. Ripples of pleasure rolled through her as she moved, not stopping until she had taken him in to the hilt. A moan passed betwixt them as she remembered what it was like to be filled by him before she began to ride him.

  His hands never left her hips, guiding their rhythm and driving her wild with wanton need as all she wanted to do was thrust until another blissful release overtook her. Her breath was coming in short pants and nothing existed in the room except the motion of their bodies. The force of her orgasm rocked through her body, blinding her. His thrusts elongating her pleasure, and he followed her over the brink. She felt his release as much as she saw the chorded muscles in his neck tighten as he growled her name.

  Their bodies still fitted together, she continued to slide on and off, taking in the feel of him, and drawing their release out longer. His calloused hand drew across her breast. She arched against him and bent her head to kiss him once more. Lips meshing, she groaned. Loving the feel of her husband inside her, even after her release, they continued to kiss, touch and taste.

  Letting her body sag against his, she rested her head on his chest. She knew they had likely expended every measure of desire they possessed, but she wanted to kiss him as many times as she could before their time ended. She brushed her lips across his chest and felt his hand run through her hair. Looking up at him with a lazy smile, she nodded at the linens and gave a small laugh. They were twisted and had entirely been pulled off the left side of the bed, revealing the cream mattress.

  “I think we might have made a bit of a mess, Tristan.”

  Content where she was, she made no attempt to move and let herself rest for a while longer on his chest.

  “Yes, well, I am certain the mages knew what would come of seeing a past love, why else would they give us such a wondrous bed?” he laughed.

  The sound almost broke her heart. It had been far longer than a year since her husband had laughed, and now that she had heard the sound, she didn’t know if she could give it up. All she had wanted was to be with him again, would she need to join him in death to banish the pain?

  She could scarcely move, ever meter of her body tingled with bliss. Rolling off him, she curled against his side, sighing happily as his arm wrapped around her. His breathing was loud in her ear, though she suspected hers was not much quieter. The small room was filled with the sound of their pants and the smell of their lovemaking. But she could no longer enjoy their time, no matter how badly she wanted to tell him to never let her go.

  There had to be a way to stop him from fading, from turning back into the sparks that brought him to her.

  “Mi amore, I do not like the quiet betwixt us. I know you far better than you know yourself, and I will not permit it. Do you hear me, Isabella?”

  She squeezed her eyes shut, wholly unsurprised that Tristan had known her darkest thought. “I am unready to say goodbye again. I am not strong enough to face this life without you.”

  His hand gripped her shoulder, and he rolled her to face him as he sat upright. Anger marred the beauty in his face, and he looked as if he were fighting back some heated words. She watched as he sucked in a deep breath and felt it as he slowly blew it out. His hands were on her shoulders then, gently, but hard enough that she knew he had wanted her attention.

  “You will live this life. You will love again, and you will make a wonderful mot
her to babes when it is your time. You will forever remember the feel of me,” he paused, kissing her lips softly, “and the taste of me. But you will not mourn me forever, and you will not join me where I go.”

  She heard the words and forced herself to nod her head.

  “Mi amore, that is not good enough. Promise me, that you will not take measures to join me in the void betwixt worlds until it is truly your time. Tell me, or I will leave this world forever angry at you.”

  He had known just the words to say to spur her. “I will not take my leave of this life until the natural order has decided it is time.” She gripped his hand. “I will not forget you, I will always love you,” she said the words with as much conviction as her upset would allow.

  He kissed her cheek, tugging her against him as his arms wrapped around her, holding her one final time. She was a torrent of emotions but forced herself not to ruin the ending of their time together. They would not get another, and she had never been weak. She would not want his last memory on Earth to be of his wife behaving any differently than she had since they had begun their courtship.

  She kissed his shoulder. “I mean it, Tristan. This was a gift, and I will never be ready for it to end, but I will not have you thinking less of me as you go back to your grave.” She laughed awkwardly, uncertain how she could find it amusing.

  “That is my wonderful, Isabella,” he whispered against her hair.

  Sweat dripped down her breast, and not from the intensity of their coupling. The temperature in the room had risen greatly in the short time. Nervous, her eyes darted to the barometer on the floor, and she cried out as she saw the final black marble, mere spaces from the top of the glass reader.

  “We are running out of time, Tristan. We are nearing the end.” The sadness in her voice sounded as if it had multiplied somehow, and she tried to swallow the awful lump of dread in her throat. She wanted to look to her husband, but she could not tear her gaze away as she watched the blasted marble rise to the top, hitting the glass with a soft clink.

  “That signals my end, does it not?” Tristan asked ruefully.

  She turned at the sound of his voice, seeing so much love on his face that it nearly destroyed her. “Yes. I am unsure as to how it will happen, but the mage said that it would once that last marble rose.”

  He still appeared to be corporeal, but she knew he would be a spirit once more in no time.

  “Do not forget me, Mi amore,” Tristan said, tugging her against him, cuddling their bodies together one final time.

  “Never,” she whispered and raised her lips to kiss him.

  She never met his mouth though, and when she opened her eyes, she could still see him, but he was fading. Lit by an array of blue and green sparks. He was leaving her, and she could do nothing, except sit upright in the bed and watch. The swirls of color would have been beautiful, had they not been slowly dissolving her husband’s form before her eyes.

  Tears slipped freely down her face, tracking hot paths of hurt and devastation, before dropping soundlessly onto her thighs and the bedspread. She was alone in the room, alone in life once more. There was nothing left to keep her strong in that moment. Tears wracked through her body, and her head hung against her chest as she allowed herself to mourn the loss of her husband for what was easily the hundredth time. Her body shook as wave after wave of emotion crashed on her, like an assault on a ship at sea.

  “Lady Common Isabella, it is time for you to take your leave,” the soft voice of the male mage said from the doorway.

  She didn’t have the energy to be startled that he was seeing her in a state of undress. Not after she had just used the guild as a sort of brothel. Using the backs of her hands to wipe away the tears, she breathed deeply before responding.

  “Thank you, mage. This is a gift I will not soon forget.” She reached for her bodice, trying not to give away how little she cared that a man could see her nude form.

  He gave her a nod, and she couldn’t help but notice the breadth of emotion in his bright eyes. It was as if he had felt everything she’d experienced with Tristan. And how could she know if he had or had not? One moment the mage had been bringing life into her husband’s long gone spirit, and the next, he had been gone. For all she knew, he had been in the room, bending light to shield himself. Or perhaps, he had been her husband in some form.

  Gathering her corset and wrapping it as tightly around herself as she could with no one to tie it, she stepped off the bed and grabbed her bustle skirt, stepping into it next. Gazing around the room, she felt one last tear slip down her cheek. Her husband was truly gone now.

  Walking to the door of the chamber, she wrapped her hand around the edge of it, closing it tightly and leaving her past locked away inside.