Page 41 of The Last Hunt

“Fuck -” Maeve chokes.

Her body stiffens beneath him and he feels her tighten around his hand, but he doesn’t stop his motions. She shudders, her nails digging harder into his arm.

“Oh god -” she groans. “Aethon -”

“That’s it,” he says. “That’s it.”

She comes so beautifully - her breath fast, her jaw tight. He soothes her through the aftershocks, her body spasming, his hand slowing down. Maeve finally relaxes back against him, languid, her eyes still closed. He kisses her collarbone and finally slides his hand from between her legs, cupping her trembling sex.

“Fuck,” she mutters. “That was so good.”

Aethon grins. He strokes her gently between her legs once more and she shudders. She flips over, and before he knows it, her arms are around his neck, and she’s kissing him. He feels her nails gently scratch against his head and he groans, catching her mouth for a deeper kiss before leaning back to look at her. Her eyes are half-lidded, and she smiles - wide and soft - before burying her face against his neck. Aethon’s heart feels like it might burst.

Maeve is still holding him tightly and though he doesn’t want her to release him, he should clean up. “Let me go, just for a minute, Maeve,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

“Wait,” she says, leaning back and furrowing her brows. “What about you?”

“What about me?” he asks, tilting his head to the side.

“I felt you against me,” Maeve says. “Let me touch you.” She slides a hand down, teasing at the band of his shorts.

Shit - he should have kept himself under control. Aethon shakes his head. “I couldn’t help myself, Bladesy.”

A slow smile spreads across her lips. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

She pulls him to her again, kissing him slowly. She opens automatically for him and he slides his tongue against hers, loving the pliant feel of her mouth. He feels her fingers threading lightly through his hair, and her other hand brushes against his cheek. Warmth floods his body as she hums in pleasure against his mouth. It’s a deep kiss, slow and sultry, and Aethon feels like he could kiss her for hours. He squeezes her thigh and lightly nips at her lower lip as he breaks off the kiss. Maeve’s eyes are wide as he pulls back, and he can’t quite read her expression. She licks her lips and finally lets go of him so that he can extract himself from the bed.

He cleans up and takes a fresh pair of shorts out of his bag, throwing his soiled ones in the wash. He climbs back into the bed and sighs at the warmth under the covers.

Maeve watches him settle in. Her face is solemn now. More closed off. She raises a hand and strokes him along his stubbled jaw. Aethon sees her lips tilt up briefly, and then return to a thin line. “We can’t do that again,” she says, pulling her hand back.

Foreboding swirls in his gut. “Why not?” he asks. Had he imagined how she begged for his touch? The passionate way she had just kissed him? How she came apart under his hands?

Aethon pushes himself up and folds his arms across his chest. He’s sick of the tension and the teasing. “I want you, Maeve. And I’m pretty sure you want me too,” he says. He feels like he’s missing something here. Aethon watches as Maeve’s throat bobs with a hard swallow. She sits up too and pushes her long hair back away from her face.

“I’m leaving Two Roses,” she says with a shrug.

“Yeah,” he replies. “Are you suddenly afraid of a little risk?”

Maeve narrows her gaze, her mouth pulling into a hard line. “You keep taking idiotic risks and I keep having to save you.”

The remark stings. “What,” he says, throwing a hand up. “The Menace getting caught in the corona? You didn’t have to save me, you know.”

“Maybe I shouldn’t have,” Maeve snaps, her lip lifting in a silent snarl.

Shit, what is he doing? Aethon takes a deep breath. “Maeve,” he says slowly. “Maeve, do you -”

“I’m not doing this with you,” she says. Her jaw is tight with anger but he thinks he sees a flash of pain cross her features. He reaches out and tucks a loose strand of Maeve’s hair behind her ear. She slaps his hand away. “Stop,” she says, her voice low.

Even though it goes against every instinct Aethon has, he stops.

“Alright,” he says.

Aethon flips over, away from Maeve. The bed that had felt so safe and warm is now cold, and strangely lonely.

Chapter 13

Valley Starbase