Chapter 16 #3
A snarl ripped from his chest before he snapped his hips up, brutally slamming into me.
I screamed.
“Louder,” he demanded, fisting my hair and pulling my head back. “Scream for me.”
He drove into me again harder, pounding as if he meant to claim my very soul. My moans broke into cries. I clawed at his shoulders, squirming against his overwhelming force.
I matched him thrust for thrust, taking everything he gave me and demanding more—my hips grinding down to meet each powerful surge.
“Mine. Every. Inch. Of. You.” Each word was punctuated by a savage thrust that sent me hurtling toward another climax.
With impossible speed, he ripped me off his lap and threw me down onto my stomach against the silken sheets.
He yanked my hips up, positioning me exactly how he wanted. Open and entirely at his mercy. He traced the curve of my spine, appreciating the arch of my back, fingers splaying across the dip above my ass.
“So beautiful,” he squeezed the flesh before landing a sharp slap that echoed through the chamber. The sting bloomed into heat, a counterpoint to the throb between my legs. “Perfect in every way. My beautiful Elira, presenting her sweet cunt to me like the good girl she is.”
He slammed into me from behind, knocking the air clean out of my lungs. The new angle allowed him to reach depths he couldn’t before. The head of his cock pressed against the deep spot inside that made my vision blur with pleasure.
I choked on a cry, shuddering beneath the sheer power of him. I clutched desperately at the sheets, my face pressed into the mattress as he set a punishing pace.
He fucked me like he meant to break me—to ruin me for anyone else, each thrust more powerful than the last. The sound of our bodies colliding filled the chamber. Flesh against flesh. The wet sounds of his cock driving into my soaked core adding to the symphony.
My moans turned to sobs.
He fisted my hair, jerking my head back until my spine curved in a perfect arch. “Say it.”
I whimpered, unable to think clearly. “W-what?”
I screamed at another punishing thrust. “Say. It.”
The room shook around us, the fire howling.
“I’m yours,” I panted. “Only yours, Dalkhan.”
A feral sound rumbled from his chest, something between a growl and a roar of triumph.
His pace turned frantic, driven by something dark and insatiable.
The beast within him had been fully unleashed, all pretence of control abandoned.
He held me in place with bruising force, using my body for his pleasure and giving pleasure in return.
“You’ll never belong to anyone else,” he grunted, leaning over to press his chest against my back. “No one else will ever fucking touch you. You are mine, Elira. Mine to protect. Mine to pleasure. Mine to worship.”
One hand slid between my legs, his fingers finding my clit and circling the sensitive bud.
It was too much. The pressure wound tighter, a spring pulled to its breaking point. Every snap of his hips sent me spiralling closer.
“Dalkhan…”
He pressed harder against my clit, circling faster. “Come for me,” he commanded, his voice rough with his own approaching climax. “Come on my cock. Let me feel you.”
Pleasure hit me with such force my body locked up, my cry bouncing off the ancient stones.
Wave after wave washed through me, each more intense than the last, until I thought I might lose consciousness.
My inner walls clenched rhythmically around him, pulling him deeper.
Milking him with each pulse of my orgasm.
He held onto the back of my neck as his own release struck him like a violent storm.
His growl turned into a roar, his entire body shuddering as he spilled into me.
Flames licked over my skin, branding me as his in ways that went beyond physical.
The fire in the room had exploded outward, scorching the walls and flaring up the ceiling before dying in glowing embers.
For a long moment, neither of us moved. We were still locked together, chests heaving and bodies drenched in sweat. The remnants of his fire crackled in the sudden silence.
Slowly, Dalkhan released his hold on me, his hands trailing down my spine softly as he turned me onto my back. He hovered over me, eyes searching my face.
Something raw and unspoken passed between us.
He didn’t just want me.
He needed me.
A lump formed in my throat, and I swallowed hard to keep single tear from falling. Instead, I reached up and pressed a soft kiss to his lips, pouring everything I couldn’t say into the simple gesture.
By the time exhaustion finally claimed us, Dalkhan had pulled me against him, his arms caging me in as if afraid I might slip away.
As if he would never let me go.
I awoke cocooned in the lingering heat of the night before. No nightmares, no haunting visions. Just peace.
I sighed in relief.
Dalkhan’s arm was still draped over my waist, heavy and possessive even in sleep.
His breath fanned against my skin, slow and steady.
The soreness between my thighs was a delicious reminder of how thoroughly he had claimed me.
Of how many times I had whispered his name into the dark, only for him to demand it again, but louder.
Azmik was coiled around my arm, his body a warm band spiralling from my wrist to my neck. His small head was tucked beneath my chin, nestled in the hollow of my throat where my pulse beat steadily against his scales.
I hadn’t even noticed him appear. Even while sleeping, his tongue flicked out occasionally, tasting my skin in gentle, feather-light touches.
The morning light streamed in through the open balcony, honeyed rays spilling over us, bathing our bare skin in warmth. I turned slowly, careful not to disturb Azmik or wake Dalkhan.
I took in the sight of him—the powerful rise and fall of his chest. The sharp angles of his face softened by sleep.
His dark braid had come undone in the chaos of last night, loose strands spilling over his shoulder and onto the pillow.
His lips still swollen from the countless times he had devoured me.
I reached out, tracing a single finger over his mouth and trailing down to his beard, to the pulse thundering at his throat. He stirred, a low, almost inaudible sound rumbling deep in his chest, but he did not wake.
I wanted to stay like this forever.
But I couldn’t.
The choice I’d been avoiding crystalised like ice in my veins, sharp and unforgiving.
I couldn’t do it. I wouldn’t.
Whatever fate awaited the mortal realm—whatever destruction Dalkhan was destined to bring, I could not be the one to stop him. My own selfish need for him was too strong, too consuming. It would devour me whole before I could even lift a finger against him.
I would lie to Zaheera, tell her my search had led nowhere. There was no sign of the stone.
Would it be enough?
Doubt gnawed at me. Zaheera would know. She would feel my betrayal.
My throat constricted, my eyes burning with the threat of tears, but I held them back.
There had to be another way.
Maybe… maybe if I told him the truth, he would reconsider. Maybe I could convince him to change course.
Or maybe I am out of my mind.
The thoughts battered against my skull. I needed space to think. To breathe without the weight of such impossible choices crushing me.
Carefully, I slipped from beneath Dalkhan’s embrace and gently unwound Azmik from my arm. He hissed softly in protest, then reluctantly coiled onto the warm pillow I’d vacated. His golden eyes blinked at me drowsily before he settled back into sleep, wound into a perfect spiral.
I padded toward the bathing chamber, my body sticky with sweat and last night’s pleasures. Warmth greeted me as I stepped inside, along with the scent of fragrant oils. The massive stone tub was already filled with steaming hot water, waiting like an invitation to oblivion.
I lowered myself into the heat inch by torturous inch, shuddering as it seeped into my sore muscles—into the bruises he had left. The water swallowed me whole, searing away my doubts and my treacherous heart.
With a deep breath, I submerged fully, the world falling silent beneath the surface. My lungs burned, but I held motionless in the liquid darkness. This moment, this stillness, was the only thing keeping me from shattering into a thousand irreparable pieces.
I broke the surface with a sharp gasp, water cascading from my hair as I sucked in the sweet taste of oxygen—only to freeze.
Dalkhan was there. Leaning against the stone archway that connected his room to the bathing chamber, watching me.
He stepped forward, silent as death. The muscles in his legs flexed as he dropped to his knees beside the tub. Steam curled around him in an ethereal haze. He reached out, trailing a single finger over my damp collarbone.
“Running from me, little flame?”
I smiled, sighing softly. “I needed to wash off the filth of last night.”
His dark brow arched. “Filth?”
He dipped a hand into the water, creating ripples just above my thigh. Close enough that I could feel the current of his movement, but not his touch.
“That’s not what you were calling it when you were clawing at my back, begging me to ruin you again and again.”
I met his gaze with a challenging tilt of my chin, my mouth open to retort, but he was already moving.
In one fluid motion, he slipped into the water with me. His weight sent waves crashing over the rim as he settled in front of me, water sloshing onto the stone floor. He clamped his hands around my ankles, dragging me forward until my chest was flush against his back, skin to burning skin.
“I like this,” he said, his touch tracing patterns over my bare thigh. “You wet and trembling beneath my hands.” His grip tightened. “Do you tremble because you want me, or because you fear me?”
“Both,” I admitted.
He turned his head to look at me over his shoulder, his smile was razor-sharp. “Good.”