She was slick and hot and tight, gripping his cock with inner muscles that flexed and drew him deeper inside her. Imogen groaned into his mouth, opening hers wider to receive his tongue and suck his in return.

She slid her hands into his hair, holding him close, as if terrified he might fade in her arms. Theirs was a quick, primal mating of desperate caresses and hard thrusts. Cededa groaned her name, shuddering as his climax surged a shockwave of pleasure through his limbs. His fingers continued to tease and coax Imogen until she followed, arching against him with a thin cry.

Cededa barely gave her time to catch her breath before he rolled onto his back, carrying her with him. He rested inside her, still partially erect. She stroked strands of his pale hair away from his forehead and cheek, her gaze touching on each hollow and line of his features.

“You were a bloody mess when I last saw you,” she said.

“I’m none the worse for it now.”

“Thank the gods,” she whispered and kissed his mouth.

For weeks he had raged at his imprisonment, his inability to hunt down her captors and rescue her. He had lost any hope of seeing her again and feared she suffered a brutal fate from those who’d taken her. All he could do was strengthen the wards that resisted outsider magic and prevented the bridge from taking shape unless he commanded it.

Now, Imogen lay in his arms, content and smiling. Wherever the wizard and soldiers had taken her, she’d been treated well.

“Why are you here, Imogen?”

“Because you’re here.” She planted soft kisses on his cheeks, his hairline. “I want to stay. You are home to me and so is Tineroth.”

Cededa sighed and closed his eyes. Near dead hope rose within him. He shoved it back, wary of her declaration, her youth. He didn’t doubt her sincerity, only her far sight. “Imogen, Tineroth hasn’t been home to anyone except me and a crowd of revenants for four millennia. It’s derelict, isolated and by this time tomorrow, will vanish from the living world until another thieving mage finds a way to drag her back.” He stroked the slope of her shoulder, admiring the feel of her smooth skin under his palm. “You’re very young. You don’t know what you ask.”

His eyes widened when she slapped him lightly on the shoulder and scowled. “Don’t patronize me, Cededa. I am young, but just because it took you a few thousand years to learn and get it right doesn’t mean it will take me so long.”