A hum left his lips at her words. It wasn’t that he doubted their truthfulness, it was that he questioned whether he was truly doing all that he could. There was no question that he would protect them, that he would so readily throw his life away if it meant they could continue to live and thrive. But what about while he lived? Was he accomplishing all that he should as a father? As a husband? Surely he was missing things, making mistakes…

Sarge wanted to improve. In that moment he swore to himself that he would continue to grow for the sake of all he held dear.

But those thoughts were quickly lost to the words of his Wisp.

Easy, spitfire. You may not be made of flame right now, but you will surely sear me alive with that attitude.

Truthfully, the meal had lost its appeal, his focus now fixed on the way his core ached for her. Not yet, though. Patience would make it all the more delicious.

The soft sound of her groan into their kiss immediately lit a fire along his spine, burning, raging, all for her. With a low, sultry chuckle, he nipped at her jaw.

We can go round and round all night, little sprite. There is no winning this battle.

And with that final statement, he collected more berries and repeated his actions. A sensual, unhurried kiss, the dribble of juice, the tender lap of his tongue against her.

His breathing grew rougher, his mind pleasantly hazy.

His sprite. His Wisp.