Chapter 13 Cav
THIRTEEN
Cav
Cav knows Lyx remembers that final night. She has to, because it’s consumed Cav for the last two years. It doesn’t matter that they barely touched; the memory stays buried in the back of his mind, like seeds that never got a chance to grow. He’s craved to see them bloom ever since.
He lifts his fingers to Lyx’s mouth. She flinches, but she doesn’t pull away.
She doesn’t move at all, save for the breath passing between her lips.
It gusts over his skin so lightly that he can hardly believe it’s real.
After a moment, he traces a claw around the bow of her top lip.
He could stay like this for hours, memorizing the intricacies of her face when she isn’t hiding them.
It’s like the blindfold covers her eyes and exposes everything else, like her expression is no longer being guarded by a firing squad.
The thought makes him reckless, his head inclining until their noses brush. “Can I kiss you?”
Her tongue slides over her lips, so close that he can almost feel it. Her voice is hoarse. “Why?”
It’s not disgust. It’s not an outright no. His taste buds prickle. “To see if you still taste as sour as you look.”
Tangy and sharp as a lemon. Deep purple blooms in Lyx’s cheeks, but she rushes forward, colliding with his mouth until he whines. It’s not a kiss. Not quite, with its teeth and seething hatred and sounds she tries to hide.
Blood trickles into his mouth. It stings when her saliva fills the wound. He groans, but it doesn’t hurt enough to pull away. Her teeth scrape his lip again, like she’s as hungry for it as he is. The burn is a delicacy, heat throbbing between his legs when he eases forward.
Her teeth release. He sucks in a breath, but it’s not quite relief. He doesn’t want to disrupt this. He fears she’ll pull away, but her tongue glides over the damage to his lip instead.
Cav braces a hand against the mast. He doesn’t move. He doesn’t even breathe.
Cautiously, she licks into his mouth, like the taste of his blood is a treasure she thought she’d lost. She plunders him like she’s in a trance, tongue probing the cut until Cav shivers at the raw, delicious feeling.
Her mouth stills like she’s been drawn out of a dream. She doesn’t pull back. Doesn’t move her head. Doesn’t turn away from both of their heavy breathing.
“You never know when to quit,” she pants. He wishes he could see her eyes. He hopes they’re as glassy as his feel. “It’s always going to come back to bite you.”
He runs his tongue over his wound, savoring it the way leather hugs a brand. “Maybe I like being taught a lesson, even if I don’t learn it.”
Her fingers curl in the restraints. He has the sudden urge to untie her, to place her hands on his chest and let her grab onto him, but her voice cuts through the vision. “You need to get back to putting on your little show. Your audience is waiting.”
The hum of the partygoers fades back in. He’d forgotten about them; he’d like to forget them again, but he has to remember what this is for. He’s here to give Lyx chaos. He’s here to feed her. With great restraint, he pushes back from her. “I told you, it’s not for them.”
He allows himself one last, lingering look at her. Purple scars rope around the thick swells of her body, fuchsia hair slipping from where it’s piled atop her head. Even tied to the mast, she’s lost none of her ferocity.
Cav runs his fingers over the soft glow of her bare shoulders. “Down there, they can only see outlines. They can only guess what the two of us are doing — even if one of us is bioluminescent.”
Lyx’s thighs clench together. Cav locates the eyelets on the back of her corset and unhooks them until it falls away. Her back curves at the newfound freedom, pressing her full breasts to the front of her blouse.
“What do you think they’ll see?” Cav lowers his mouth between her shoulder blades. “You, trying to keep your composure?”
She scoffs, but she can barely choke it out.
“What, then?” he asks. “You, failing? You, begging me to finish you off?” He drags his forked tongue up the nape of her neck. “You, whimpering pitiful little sounds on the tip of my tongue?”
Lyx shuts down a shiver. “They can’t hear anything down there.”
Cav smirks. He reaches for the speaking trumpet that’s secured to the railing and angles it down toward the crowd. With his other hand, he finds one of Lyx’s nipples through the fabric and settles his fingers around it, tightening and tugging until she cries out.
Below them, a hush falls over the crowd.
“Something tells me they can,” Cav whispers, “if you get loud enough. But like I said, it’s not about them. It’s about you.”
His hands lower to brush her skirt out of the way. Now he can see her bare skin, the plush curve of her ass situated perfectly against his hips. That sight alone makes his mouth water, heightened when she winds back into him.
“No one down there gets to see you,” he murmurs. “They only get a glimpse. Only enough to leave them wondering. Only enough to feed you.”
He swears it’s already working. Her skin glows the more he speaks.
Despite the grit of her teeth, her body keeps moving against him, following the slow circles he makes.
Fuck, he could give her everything right now.
He could shove every piece of fabric aside and slot their legs together and let her ride him until she has her fill — but that’s exactly what she wants. That’s exactly what she expects.
It’s a struggle for him to pull away, but watching her arch back to find him is worth it. When she realizes the heat of his body is gone, her head whips over her shoulder.
“The crowd doesn’t get everything,” he reminds her, “but you don’t, either.”
Her arms jerk against the restraints. Gods, she looks absolutely edible, strung-up and wanton. Her voice is a low hiss of fury and desperation. “You cannot leave me like this.”
“It’s better for your feeding if I deny you, isn’t it? Make you work for it?”
Her jaw clenches, a curse spiking between her lips, loud enough for the crowd to hear.
“You won’t be completely helpless,” Cav reassures her. “You’re gonna come tonight. You’ll get that little reward, but you’ll have to do the work yourself.”
“Fuck you,” she spits. She tries to retain some form of control, but her forehead knocks against the mast as she sways on her toes. It’s pitiful. It’s so fucking hot.
“Aww…” Cav lifts his hands to outline her curves, her intensity rising off of her like a haze. “How about I give you something? Something to help you get there. Something you can use however you want.”
“What the fuck am I supposed to use?” she snaps. The soft muscles in her back flex. For once, it’s not Cav’s presence winding her up; it’s his absence. Finally, he’s withholding something she craves.
He sinks to his knees behind her.
Once she realizes where he’s gone, she tenses and tilts her face down toward him.
He smooths his hands over the backs of her legs.
“I remember this.” Last time, she barely let him close enough to touch her.
This time, however, he sets his mouth against one thigh and sucks a mark against her skin.
He pulls back, breathing over the wet spot he left until she trembles.
He eases her knees apart and crawls between them to settle his back against the mast. The back of her skirt falls into place, draping a semi-circle of fabric around him.
Goddamn, he’s imagined this moment for two years, and now, he’s inches away from the slick desire between her legs.
His hand splays across her pubic bone and brushes the scar on her hip.
He smooths his pinky over it before he realizes what it is.
This scar is different than the others, an angry burn faded with time.
He can’t help himself. He pushes up, pressing his lips gently against it until she makes a helpless sound in the back of her throat.
He wants to linger, but he doesn’t. He moves lower until his nose drags between the juncture of one thigh.
It’s the first time he’s been this close, and he wants to savor every detail.
Aside from the radiance of her skin, she looks almost human.
With two fingers, he traces around her clit, skimming her folds where she’s soft and slippery.
Her hips buck.
“Do you always look like this?” He breathes against her. “In the water?”
The question seems to surprise her, but his voice is low enough that no one below them will hear.
“No,” she finally mutters. “Only on land to fool pirates.” She shifts against his claws like she’s a fish strung up to be gutted. “Give you a hole to fuck, and you’ll fall for anything.”
He’s not sure why his chest twinges. This is the only form he’s seen her in. When he was shipwrecked, she never let him see her in the water, but he always wanted to. He still does.
Longing stirs inside him. With his fingers, he circles her clit and presses against her slick entrance.
“Is it all for show?” He leans his head back to look up at her.
She’s a mess of tense arms, parted lips, and heaving breasts.
He leans forward to scrape his teeth against her thigh. “Or can you still feel everything?”
“You know I can,” she bites out. “So stop fucking teasing.”
His smile flutters. “Make me.” He settles his mouth above her clit, suctioning his lips just north of where she wants them. “If you want to come, you have to use me. Every part of me is yours for the taking.” He drags his lips against her. “You speak it, and I obey. Tell me where to go. Direct me.”
The forks of his tongue settle on either side of her clit. She twitches and groans at the contact, and murmurs ripple through the crowd below. Cav doesn’t spare a thought for them. His mind and body are hungry for a taste of Lyx, thrumming at the prospect of following her every command.
He speaks slowly against her, honing all his attention on where they connect. “Wield me.”