8. Kiera
Chapter 8
Kiera
F or the second time in just as many nights, I return to my body with a gasp and sit upright in the four-poster bed, distantly aware that I’m no longer alone. Dull light peers in through the window, shining over the warm male body on the other side of the mattress. My hand inches to the dagger strapped beneath my clothes—re-donned after I’d cleaned myself the night before—on instinct, but I freeze when I recognize the shiny white-blond locks against the pillow.
Ara is perched on Theos’ hip over the covers and her other friend is missing—no doubt still below in what must be the dungeons of Ortus Academy. My heartbeat slows rapidly as I take deep, steady breaths. Theos grumbles in his sleep and moves closer, rousing my spider Queen as she opens her eyes and jumps off his body, disappearing over the side of the bed—no doubt to find a more comfortable sleeping place.
My throat works reflexively as I consider the revelation from the Ortus spider.
I’d seen the blood in Tryphone’s mind. I’d seen Caedmon’s unseeing eyes, bloodied and empty as well as his crumpled body. How could anyone—even a God—have survived that?
“Kiera?” Theos’ groggy voice is sleepy and deep. Slowing my breathing, I glance down at his upturned face. Something in my own must reflect the tumult of emotions cascading through me because he blinks and the exhaustive layer of slumber disappears in an instant. He sits up and reaches for me. “What’s wrong?”
My lips part but no words escape. What can I say? How do I explain? I shake my head. It makes no sense. What if … what if it really had been a dream? A wish. A hope.
If Caedmon isn’t dead then maybe we still have a chance to gain his help. Caedmon knows what the future holds. He’s the one that’s supposed to guide us. I shake my head and blow out a long breath as I sink down against him, pressing my forehead to his shoulder before realizing that he’s naked from the waist up.
Rising once more, I blink at him. “What…” I reach for the blankets and rip them away, gaping at the sight of Theos in full nudity. “Did you walk to my room like this?”
When I meet his gaze again, there’s a curl of amusement at the corner of his mouth and one arched brow. “Perhaps…” he hedges.
I fling the blankets back up over his lap and the length of a slowly growing erection there. With a growl, I turn away from him and slide towards the edge of the mattress. “Fucking stupid,” I mutter. “We’re literally being held in a brimstone prison, awaiting a soul-sucking death, and you’re?—”
Laughing, Theos’ arms close around me and pull me back further onto the bed. Short of elbowing him in the gut and planting a fist in his handsome face, escaping his grasping clutches is an effort in futility. For a moment, I consider withdrawing my dagger anyway, but then give up on the idea as he settles me onto his lap and ducks his head into the curve of my neck.
Despite the straining cock prodding my backside, he breathes slowly and evenly for several seconds, not reaching for my breasts or the placket of my trousers. Instead, he seems to take a moment before even speaking. “Tell me,” he insists. “What is it?”
I close my eyes as dawn’s light brightens against the window and washes the rest of the room in flat illumination. My hands are on his forearms where they hold me to him. “Later,” I croak out. “I’m not exactly sure what it is, but I’ll tell you and the others later.”
Theos lifts his head and one hand reaches up, touching my chin. My eyes open as he urges my head around so that I’m forced to meet his gaze. Golden and glowing ever so slightly, he peers at me with a seriousness that I’ve rarely seen from him.
“You do trust us?” he asks, his voice light despite the strain of his features. “Don’t you?”
No.
Yes.
Fuck. I don’t fucking know.
My answer, when it comes, is all I can offer. “I trust you as much as I trust anyone, Theos.”
His lips curve upward and the divot between his brows eases marginally. “I suppose that’s the best I’ll get from you.”
I shrug helplessly. “It’s the best anyone’s ever gotten from me.” And it’s a lie, I think to myself, because over the last few months, I’ve come to realize something about Theos and his brothers.
The Darkhavens are cruel creatures, monsters in their own right, but to each other they are loyal … and to me… I think they might be everything I didn’t even know I was searching for.
Dipping his head once more, Theos settles his mouth over mine. His tongue nudges my lips apart and sinks inside. With a groan of both dismay and frustration, I open my mouth and let him have his way—a concession I’ve never given to anyone else. That is, anyone outside of the Darkhavens.
His kiss is easy and languid. Even with the hard ridge of his cock sliding against the fabric over my ass and lower back, he doesn’t push for more. Instead, he appears perfectly content just to kiss me. His tongue plies me open again and again, his head turns one way and then the other.
After several minutes, he repositions me, encouraging me to turn around and straddle him so that we can resume the kiss. Unable to help myself and somehow knowing that this is but a brief escape from our reality, I let him.
I sink onto his lap, grinding my cloth-covered pussy against him as I slide up and down and back and forth. All the while, his hands grip my hips and his teeth, lips, and tongue drive me wild. My thighs become coated in wet juices the longer the kiss goes on and my stomach rolls, contracting and releasing with desire.
“Theos…” I gasp his name as he pulls his mouth from mine and turns his head away when I lean up to kiss him again.
“No, Kiera, wait.”
Fuck no, I don’t want to wait. Grabbing his face with my hand, I force it back to mine and dive down, ravishing him with a harsh meeting of mouths. His low, rumbling masculine chuckle annoys me enough that I reach down between our bodies and take his cock into my hand.
The laugh cuts off immediately as he sucks in a harsh breath. “Kiera.” My name is a warning on his lips, one that I have no intention of heeding.
Looking up at the suddenly strained features of his face, I test the first stroke, gripping him tight against my palm and slowly lifting and lowering my hand from base to tip. He bares his teeth at me, snarling.
“Fuck, Dea,” he snaps. “You’re killing me.”
Arching a brow, I repeat the action. “I assure you,” I tell him calmly. “I’ve never killed anyone this way.”
His hips rise against the ministrations of my hand, pumping against my palm as he seeks out more pressure, more pleasure. I move back a bit and reach down with my other hand, lower this time, under his heavy cock and to the sack beneath. Theos grips the sheets and blankets on either side of our bodies, twisting and bunching them as another unintelligible curse slips from his lips.
After all he and his brothers have put me through, their conniving, sometimes demeaning, and more than often dominating personalities, I think this is the first time I’ve ever felt as if I truly have power over one of them. I find that I like the sensation.
Theos’ cock pulses in my hand, throbbing as I reach the head and rub a thumb over the wet open slit at the top. Rolling his balls between my fingers, lightly squeezing them, I continue to pump him in my grip. Up and down, repeating the movement until it’s not enough for either of us.
A string of curses and then a very agonized, “Dea,” escapes Theos’ mouth as I move back and down, lowering my body to the mattress until my face hovers over his shaft. One of his hands releases the blankets and spears into my hair, the fluttering of silver strands are pulled back, away from my face, and held in a hard fist.
“Yes,” Theos breathes as I kiss the top of his cock, licking at the slit and tasting the salty fluid there. “Take me, Dea . Take me deeper than you’ve ever taken anyone and let me come inside this pretty mouth.”
Dear Gods … Theos Darkhaven is a dark saint above me, eyes half-lidded and glowing dangerously. His lips part, the plushness of their form enhanced by the glistening of wetness on them.
My insides cramp with wanton need, and I open my mouth wider, letting my tongue lap up the underside of his shaft. He tastes like salt and sin, a heady flavor that I could get far too used to, far too addicted to. Leaving his sack, I grip his cock with both hands at the base. I carefully trace the bulging vein from the bottom to the top of his length before taking him inside. The second my lips close over the sensitive mushroom-shaped head of his cock, his hips jerk and he slides in several inches at once.
The hand at the back of my skull tightens against me, keeping me from pulling back. I descend further and further, sucking him in until he hits the back of my throat. Breathing through my nostrils in rapid succession, I glance up from beneath my lashes to see his expression. Theos’ head is tilted down, his glowing golden eyes fixed on me, on where his cock is between my lips.
A spark of something akin to lightning passes through my veins and I jolt sharply. It’s not just in my veins, but I can feel it in my body, between my lips, against my tongue, and at the back of my head where he grips me so tightly. My gaze widens on his face as a slow grin spreads his lips and the bottom whites of his teeth shine through the smile.
“You look so pretty on your knees for me, Dea, ” he murmurs endearingly. Gathering up the long strands of my hair, he holds it up, creating a tail in his fist. “Your hair is so pretty,” he continues, sifting the long tendrils between his fingers. “Like spider silk.”
He rocks his hips against my face, pressing in and then withdrawing a scant inch or two, rubbing the underside of his shaft against my tongue. My pussy clenches in desire, with hunger. Though I want him inside me, to feel the hard press of him invading my body to give me just as much pain or pleasure he wants to deliver—this act I’m performing for him is entirely enslaving.
I want to close my eyes and suck him down more, to let myself be drawn in by the taste and smell of him and to let him use me as he would a common whore. I want him to drive out all thought from my head, all memory of that disconcerting dream. Because I know that’s exactly what it was—a dream. It had to have been.
Caedmon isn’t alive. He can’t be. It’s just wishful thinking; a desire from a scared child to have someone to turn to—someone more powerful, more knowledgeable, someone who can do something to save me.
There is no one to save me now. I am captured by the kindest of the Darkhavens, but even he has his darkness he wants to unleash and I have no choice but to let it happen. Deep down, though, I know it’s not lack of choice that has me unlocking my jaw and widening my hips, as I press my knees into the mattress. It’s greed.
There’s still a few inches left and I know if I want to take him fully, he’ll have to go further than I’ve ever taken any other man—just as he commanded. Despite the obvious tension and desire reflected in his expression, for a moment, Theos’ grin widens.
“Do you think you can do it?” he prompts, a challenging note in his voice. “Can you suck my cock all the way to the back of your throat, Kiera?”
My mouth contracts around the hard shaft and my tongue practically vibrates where it’s pressed down from the heavy length of him. Can I do it? I narrow my eyes on him. Does he really think I’m going to fall for such an obvious ploy?
Yes, he must, because it works.
Theos thrusts his cock into the back of my throat, a low groan erupting from his throat. His grasp on my hair tightens to the point of pain, the strands tugging sharply against my scalp that seems to send more of those strange bolts of lightning—hot and not quite painful but still very much present—through me.
Over and over again, he thrusts into my mouth, taking his pleasure from my lips as if the two of us were born to play these parts of ours. I let my eyes drift shut, slicking my tongue beneath his shaft as I taste more salt on his skin. Wetness from the head oozes towards the back of my throat and reflexively, I swallow against it, wanting more. The action causes my entire mouth and throat to clamp down and pulse rhythmically against the length of him, trying to perform the common act of taking something into my belly. The strange sensation seems to drive Theos over the edge. With a muffled shout, he slams himself into the back of my mouth, holding my head down with two hands now, keeping my face pressed to his groin.
“Fuck!”
Liquid fire streams into my throat and stomach, shot after shot of rich, hot cum filling me up until it threatens to overwhelm me and I choke on the amount. Theos pulls back, resting the head of his cock just inside my lips so that the rest can spurt across my tongue. I swallow back as much as I can, eyes burning and nostrils flaring as I drag in breath all the while.
“Don’t fucking swallow the last of it,” Theos growls. “Don’t you fucking dare.”
Blinking in surprise, I look up at him, but he’s already withdrawing from my mouth and deftly sliding from the bed. Bringing me with him, I realize a split second later when his hand hasn’t left my hair, but uses its hold to drag me off the mattress and onto the floor.
I’m too surprised and confused to fight him, nor do I see any reason to when he’s not hurting me. As my knees hit the floor, Theos’ hand releases my hair for a brief interlude so that he can reach for my tunic. Drawing it up and off my head, he unleashes my unbound breasts—the binding material I’d used that day having been left hanging next to the washstand behind me.
Twisting a nipple with his thumb and forefinger, Theos stares down at me as my lips part in shocking awareness. It’s as if he’s sending those fiery, burning bolts of lightning from my breasts down to my core.
“Gods, yes,” he murmurs. “Just like that. Look at me, Dea .”
Unable to help myself, I arch against the sharp pain he causes at my nipples and do as he commands, looking up at him. “Your lips are covered in me,” he murmurs, appearing mesmerized by my mouth. “It’s all over your tongue. Fuck, it makes me want to…”
He twists my nipple again, reaching out with his second hand and doing the same to the other. I cry out, arching harder, and he swoops down. Falling to his knee before me, Theos steals the sound from my throat by thrusting his tongue into the recesses of my mouth.
His lips against mine seem to be the breaking point of my passive prelude and I kiss him back fervently. Reaching up, I grasp his head and hold him to me, sliding my tongue against his, letting him taste his own release on me.
More fingers pressing against my nipples, tightening and twisting, wreaking havoc against my insides. My stomach flips and turns, my pussy contracts on nothing. My hands fall away from his head and go to the front of my trousers. Deftly undoing the ties that keep them shut, I feel the dagger at the small of my back loosen and thunk against the floor of the bedroom as I cut off the kiss long enough to stand and shuck the remainder of my clothes off.
“Fuck me.” The words are both a plea and a demand. Already, Theos’ cock is straining once more, looking even angrier than it had before he came in my mouth. The shaft is a light pink, but the head—oh, the head. It’s a rich burgundy color, weeping insistently at the tip.
On his knees before me, Theos’ eyes flash black for a split second before returning to the illuminated golden they naturally are.
“I am yours,” he whispers. “By the Divine Realm, Kiera Nezerac. I am yours.”
Hands arching up my now naked thighs, Theos nuzzles against the slightly rounded curve of my stomach and then down further, to the place between that is slick with my need. His hot tongue traces up one side of my pussy and then down the other, gathering my wetness before he delves deeper. Spreading my thighs and gripping his head, I bite down on my lower lip hard enough to taste blood. I want his cock in me, I want to drive that damned headboard through the stone into the next room, but I also want this. My payment and pleasure for making him come with my mouth.
“This is what the Divine tastes like,” Theos murmurs. “I could die right here, with my lips on your sweet pussy.” The last of his words are whispered against my soft skin right before he sucks the bud of my clit into his mouth.
White fire slams into me in a split second. A scream breaks past my teeth and in the next moment, I find myself lifted back onto the bed, flipped onto my front, and my face pressed to the blankets and pillows to muffle the noise.
A hard, hot shaft settles against the opening of my pussy. I jerk my head up with a gasp as one of Theos’ hands comes down hard on my shoulder and the other on my hip. He drags me back into him, impaling me on his cock in a quick movement that leaves my lungs depleted of air and my cunt stinging with ache.
Again and again, Theos fucks into me—shunting his cock not just back and forth, but with a rippling move of his hips that somehow manages to drag my sore and pulsing clit against the edge of the mattress with each withdrawal. I bite down on the blankets, clawing at them as he thrusts into me, pushing me past a second release and onto the precipice of a third.
Black and white dots dance in front of my eyes and my head lolls to the side. The room shifts and moves each time he penetrates me, shuffling the two of us against the bed. My gaze settles on the one point in the room that has the only other movement aside from us. The mirror. It’s us again—a reflection of the hot, sticky sex that’s now invading the room with its spicy aroma.
My gaze latches on to the sight of Theos hovering over me a split second before the driving force of his cock entering me sends me forward, breaking the contact as my head droops down with the sudden movement. I grit my teeth and curl my fingers into the sheets beneath me as he fucks into my body, sending tingling little tendrils of adrenaline from my toes to the nape of my neck. My limbs feel as if they’re full of liquid, my muscles are sore and my breasts are engorged and achy. Pressing my palms flat against the mattress once more as hot puffs of air leave my lips, I leverage back up, pushing back against Theos.
I raise my gaze and stare at the echo of us—Theos’ body over mine as the muscles of his shoulders contract and his arms bulge as he grabs ahold of me. I am both in the moment with him, feeling the crest of another climax racing towards me as his fingers threaten to bruise my hips, and I am divorced from it. My attention roves over every inch of him, the shadows beneath his eyes as much as the way his body powers into mine, seeming to need release as much as he needs the contact. Taking and taking and taking, even as he wants to give.
All too soon it becomes overwhelming and I can’t keep up the separation. I slam back into my own mind, the sensations flooding my system and erasing all anxiety with the feel of him so deep inside me. Every thrust and withdrawal drags me up the precipice. Low keening moans escape my throat, making me sound more like an animal than human or Mortal God. I can’t seem to bring myself to care. The heat that Theos is inciting under my skin is too much; it’s too good to stop now. A sharp cry emerges as with his next thrust, Theos sends me careening over the cliff’s edge.
Theos groans, bowing over me, his chest slick with sweat and illuminated by the rapidly growing light from the window. A dark saint, indeed. He looks like a creature of the old world, animalistic instincts causing him to press against my ass as he fucks me one last time and wrings the last vestiges of a release from both of our bodies.
When he collapses on top of me, Theos reaches his hands to my face, turning my chin more until he can take my lips. Licking against the seam of my mouth with impassioned desire, he demands entry once more. I let him. Opening my mouth and closing my eyes against the dust-covered reflection of us across the room, I kiss Theos Darkhaven—all the while knowing that this could have been the last time.
After all, the Gods will surely kill us before releasing us from this prison of theirs. Each day we now live is ripe with the possibility that it could be the last.
Somehow, that knowledge doesn’t change anything. Not the way I roll onto my back and wrap my arms around Theos’ sweaty and still trembling form. Not the way I stare up at the cobweb strewn ceiling of the unfamiliar room. And certainly not my resolve to see Caedmon’s request through.
This time, though, it’s not for denza or a mission—it’s for the life I want to have after this is all over.