Chapter 57: Diogo

Exhaustion beats at me, seeping through every part of me. I've spent the night with my soldiers, checking on the wall rebuild and sitting in on interrogations. The work is endless in the wake of an attack that could bring our city down if not dealt with properly. By the time I return home, I'm satisfied that we won't fall if I take a few hours for myself.
The need to set eyes on my wife has been riding me strong throughout every interaction. I almost wished I'd brought her with me, but she needed the calm and rest only our home can provide.
I do a quick search of the apartment on my return, but don't find her or her guard. I take the stairs up to the rooftop three at a time, throwing the door open when I reach the top. Though I don't immediately see her, I'm relieved to find her guard.
"Truss," I snap, still searching for her sleight figure. "Report."
He jerks his chin toward the greenhouse. "She woke up an hour ago, had something to eat and went to work in the shed."
I absorb the words, some of the tension releasing from my shoulders. She's in the greenhouse. She hasn't disappeared on me again. My men are too skilled to let her slip away from them. That's how I know Garrett had done his job. The only way he would've allowed himself to be separated from her was through death. Still, I'm anxious to lay eyes on her, reassure myself that she hasn't been harmed.
"Fall back to the main door," I tell him and walk away, leaving him to follow my order.
I find Taran by the back wall of the greenhouse, on top of a stepladder, peering into the bird's nest. I'm about to speak, but before I do, she twists and glances over her shoulder. The look on her face stops me short, steals my breath and makes my heart pound in a way no battle can possibly do.
The smile that lights up her face is radiant. It steals every exhausted shadow from her lovely features and makes her more arresting than ever. She lifts a finger to her lips in a hauntingly beautiful motion and then beckons me closer. Helpless in her thrall I walk on silent feet to the nest. As I approach, she reaches for me excitedly, taking hold of my arm, curving her hand around me, and drawing me in. A feeling of home rushes over me as my wife voluntarily, eagerly, touches me. I've known, almost from before meeting her, that Taran was the one for me. But this moment, her touch, our silent connection despite the events of the past days, has convinced me that I will do anything to protect this fragile feeling blooming between us.
I stand just slightly below her, the two steps on the ladder giving her a slight advantage. "Babies," she breathes, pointing into the nest.
As if on cue, I hear the tiny flutters from within the straw and mud bird house. The minuscule cheeps indicating life from within. There are four baby birds, freshly hatched. Probably sometime last night while we were out in the desert. The mother wren has left them, likely seeking food so she can, in turn, feed her babies.
"They're so ugly," Taran giggles, turning shining eyes toward me.
I laugh, the sound rough after a long sleepless night. I wasn't expecting to share such a perfect moment of peace with my wife. Not after the events of last evening. Not after the arrests and interrogations of my night. The feeling is such a relief that I forget my anger, forget the gulf that has built between Taran and me, and I slide my arm around her waist. She leans against my side and we watch together as the hungry little beasts cheep helplessly and open their mouths for sustenance.
She turns her face towards me at the same time as I reach for her head, sliding my fingers into her silky red hair. Her eyes slide shut and a smile curves her lips. I tug her face to mine and take her mouth in a kiss meant to be gentle. About two seconds later gentle intentions go out the window as Taran deepens the kiss, turning on the ladder to press her breasts to my chest. The feel of her soft body pressed full length against mine is intoxicating, chasing away the lingering effects of exhaustion. I wrap my arm around her hips and drag her closer into the cradle of my body.
She gasps as she slides from the ladder into my embrace. Holding her lips a few inches from mine she says in a breathless voice, "I enjoyed being taller than the Warlord."
I chuckle against her mouth. "Your ego has always been taller than mine, Desert Wren."
She glares in fake anger. "That's because I'm better at pretty much everything than you!"
"Not everything." I squeeze her hard until she's gasping and wriggling in my arms. "I'm stronger than you."
Her eyes flash and I can see seriousness replacing our playful banter. "Stronger isn't better, Diogo. You think that strength equals survival, but you're wrong. People need so much more than a strong leader, strong army, strong defences."
"You're simplifying my words, Taran. If I thought the only things humans needed was strength then I wouldn't have chosen you to be my wife." She growls her annoyance at that, pricked by my reference to her diminutive size. "Humans also require intelligence, speed and the ability to reproduce." I know I'm poking at her philosophies but arguing with my wife is one of my secret joys.
She smacks her palm into my shoulder. "Trust you to ruin a perfectly pleasant morning with your Warlord bullshit. Put me down, I want to go inside!"
While I anchor her firmly against me with an arm around her waist, I take a handful of her hair and force her face to mine, my lips hovering over hers, her intoxicating scent of wild freedom beating at my senses. She's stiff in my arms, angry at the turn our meeting has gone, but I can feel the heat from her. Feel the rapid beat of her heart against my chest. She wants me as much as I want her.
"I will never let you go, Taran. Will never put you down. You belong to me forever."
I take her mouth hungrily, sweeping away any resistance with my tongue, teeth and lips. When she tries to jerk away, probably to continue our argument, I turn her face back to mine and deepen our kiss until she's forced to concentrate on taking gasping breaths every time I allow her room breathe. I explore her mouth as though it's the first time, memorizing her again and again, feeling the moment that I nearly lost her. That moment gives a desperate edge to my sensual attack.
Almost as if she feels my switch from punishing kiss to devoted exploration, she wraps her arms around my neck and clings to me, returning the pressure of my kiss with equal fervor. I slide my hand from her waist to her thigh, hoisting her up, encouraging her to wrap her legs around me. She clings to me as I push her back against the ladder, placing her ass on one of the rungs so I can reach between us.
I grip the collar of her shirt. My shirt, I note with amusement. It fills me with pleasure that she has chosen something of mine to sit next to her skin, despite having many new outfits to choose from. As I release the buttons, my fingers brush against the bandage on her neck. She jerks back, her hand automatically coming up. Her face crumples for just a moment before she can smooth her expression. I catch the moment of pain though and it cools my lust like nothing else can.
Moving the collar of her shirt to the side, I inspect the bandage, making sure that it's still firmly in place. The sight of the tape against her beautiful skin erases what was left of my ardor. Not that I mind fucking my wife while she's incapacitated, far from it. But never in pain. Not unless it's the delicious kind of pain that only I can inflict on her.
As if sensing my reluctance, she shrugs my hand away and burrows closer into my chest, kissing the edge of my jaw. "Diogo, I want you," she says breathlessly.
The pressure of those soft lips against my unshaven skin and her beautiful voice begging for more, sends a cascade of pleasure through my body. I crush her to me, careful not to grip her neck as I take her hair in my hand once more. I tip her face up to mine and stare hard into those stormy intelligent grey eyes.
"No, Taran," I admonish her. "Not until you've healed."
Emotion flickers behind her eyes as she tries to decide if she should push me to get her own way. This is one of the things I love about her. The sharp intelligence that weighs her decisions. She won't fight a losing battle, but she might try to find a way around it. I cut her thinking off before she can make a decision.
"If you persist, then I will be forced to wait until you're healed, spank you until your ass is on fire then fuck you."
She tilts her head to the side, thinking, a mischievous look in her eyes. "I might like that."
"I promise you won't." I kiss her hard on the lips and then step back, lifting her off the ladder and placing her on her feet.
She leans to the side, favouring one over the other.
"How is your ankle?"
"Getting better," she says.
I grunt my doubt and slide an arm around her waist. "Lean against me."
She does as I say and I walk with her to the door. A flutter of wings has us looking back. The mother wren flies down from the hole in the roof to her nest. She glares reproachfully at us as her babies begin to cheep louder, begging for food.
Taran grins. "Sorry mama bird. Next time we'll take our activities away from the nest."
I usher my wife out the door and into the dry desert morning. We stand for a moment looking out over the city. Taran stares toward the wall explosion. She can't see anything from this vantage point, but the sorrow etching her face speaks to her feelings. She looks up at me, her eyes cloudy.
"I didn't know this would happen. Any of it."
"I know," I tell her. "People died as a result of the bombing. Both inside Sanctuary and out. You value life too highly to have ever agreed to such a plan."
A sad expression still creases her features, but her voice is relieved when she says, "Thank you for believing me."
I hold her close for a few minutes, content in our unity. I have my wife by my side, full of life and healing from her injuries. Which is enough, for now.
"Let's go to bed, I need some sleep before my next shift."
"I'm not sleepy," she complains with an edge of teasing to her voice.
"Then lay with me while I sleep."
I don't give her a choice. I lead her down the stairs to our bed.