Chapter 18 #3
Nya gasped, her eyes flying open. A knot tightened painfully in her chest, and she knew without explanation what had happened, could feel the beat of her heart forever syncing to his.
Her eyes widened, and she lifted her head to look at him, almost expecting horror on his face. “Morgen, what did I—”
He kissed her hard before she could ask what exactly she had just done, his lips moving feverishly against hers.
When his tongue slipped into her mouth, she whimpered in the back of her throat, grinding against him without even realizing it.
Everything about the moment felt feral and terrifying, uncontrolled in a way that should have been enough warning to both of them but only urged the frenzy on.
He bit her lip hard enough to draw blood the same moment he jerked his hips up. She gasped, and he muttered, “From now on, I’m the only one who gets to do that to you.”
It took her a moment to make sense of his words, to realize he was referring to her habit of biting her lips when she was worried.
“I can’t—help my bad habits.” She pulled back, shaking her head, her breath shuddering. His lips were stained with both his blood and hers. “What just happened?”
His throat worked. He seemed to be having as hard a time concentrating as she was. “Ana, the priestess who performed the ceremony, told me the blood binding would only work until the sun rose the next morning.”
She nodded, her breath shallow as he traced his hands lightly up her sides, leaving goosebumps in the wake of the touch. She was fairly certain he didn’t even realize he was doing it. “I remember.”
“It seems that rule only applied if the ceremony was complete.”
Her eyes dropped to the spot where she had just bitten him, the broken skin healed by the embers.
But a scar remained, just like hers. The logical part of her wanted to be horrified; if she died, he would too now.
But some other part, the same part that could still taste his blood on her tongue, only wanted to finish things.
Complete the ceremony, then do it again, and again, and…
“Nya.” Morgen touched her face, his voice still rough but quieter now. “I’m not upset. I didn’t know that would happen, but it doesn’t change anything.”
She knew it didn’t, that none of what had happened had really managed to change anything.
It was eternally confusing. How could she both love him and hate him, all while wanting him more than anything?
How could he threaten her, force her into a marriage, and then stare at her now like she was something sacred?
Their entire relationship was a tangled mess of threads she could not separate, and she was drowning in feelings she couldn’t make sense of. Sometimes, it felt useless to even try.
“Let’s make sure it doesn’t happen,” she whispered. “You dying because someone goes after me, I mean.”
It took him a moment to understand her weak attempt at asking for more, for everything.
But she saw it the second he realized what she meant; his pupils darkened again, spreading like storm clouds across the bright golden glow of his irises.
He looked beautifully inhuman, and she thought she could finally see it now, the side of him that commanded so much respect and fear from others.
But she didn’t fear him. She was fully aware that even as he looked like this, even as the energy of his magic crackled through the room, disturbing the torches, he would do anything she asked.
She almost started to speak—to say what, she did not know—but he cut her off gently with a shake of his head and leaned forward, eyes shutting as he brushed his nose against hers.
The act felt intimate and soft, and she wanted to deny that those feelings belonged here, but she just couldn’t anymore.
They had far too much history between them for this to be nothing more than a necessity or even a way to find pleasure.
Perhaps he was just quitting while he was ahead and accepting this for what it was. Maybe she should too.
“Lay back for me,” he murmured, kissing down the curve of her jaw.
She leaned back onto the pillows, watching raptly as he tugged off his shirt and tossed it somewhere off the side of the bed.
His torso and back were a mess of scars that had never fully faded, even with the embers.
They were a map of the terror and abuse of his childhood, but beyond wanting to resurrect Kronos and kill him herself, none of it mattered to her.
He was extraordinary and beautiful, every hard ridge of his muscles a testament to years spent training and years spent surviving.
He looped his fingers under the waistband of her bands and ordered softly, “Hips up.”
She did as he said, biting her lip without thinking, and as soon as he had dragged everything away, leaving her completely bare, he tsked and nipped hard at her mouth, muttering, “What did I say?”
“I don’t know,” she said, voice breathy, her pulse fluttering in her neck.
He was distracted, cheeks flushed and eyes wild and dark. Still, he teased in a rough voice, “No?”
“No, I don’t recall—”
He dipped his fingers into the mess already between her legs, and her hips bucked, a surprised moan echoing through the room. He swore under his breath, chest heaving.
“Are you always this wet for me, Nya?” he asked, and she couldn’t tell if he was teasing or serious. His eyes shamelessly slid through the very center of her as he circled her clit. “Because every time I touch you, you’re ready to be fucked.”
He slid a finger inside her, and she fought to get the words out around the dizzying pleasure blurring her mind. “You—haven’t touched me many times… Oh.”
“I’ll have to make a habit of it then.” He added another finger, still watching everything her body did. He curled his fingers inside her, groaning as she fluttered around him. “You’re going to come again, aren’t you?”
She didn’t have it in her to reply, not as she did exactly that. He kept touching her the entire time, until she brushed away his hand and kissed him hard, whispering down the pathway, I want you. All of you.
He inhaled sharply against her mouth. Bear with me here. We’ll have to go slow.
She couldn’t help the smile that tugged at her lips. “I know,” she whispered. "Don’t worry. You can’t possibly do worse than the first boy I was with. He lasted all of thirty seconds.”
A low, almost animalistic sound rumbled from his chest, and he snarled, “Don’t talk about that,” then sucked at the mark on her throat, punctuating the sentiment.
She understood the possessive drive, as barbaric as it sounded. Perhaps it was made stronger by the bond, but the thought of anyone else touching him made her want to draw more blood.
“Show me then,” she whispered, finding his wild eyes. “Show me you are mine and that I am no one’s but yours.”
He didn’t waste a second after that, dragging his pants down and kicking them off before pushing into her with one, hard thrust. She was ready for him, but still, the feel of him, huge and pulsing inside her, had her gasping.
His eyes widened, his hand grasping hers, pushing it into the mattress next to them.
Slowly, tentatively, he started to move, both their breaths hitching as he hit an even deeper spot, her muscles spasming around him and sending delicious sparks of pleasure up her spine.
His head fell against her shoulder, and he shuddered, mumbling against her bare skin, “I want to fuck you forever.”
She laughed, the sound broken as a moan clawed up her throat. When she managed to speak, she said, “You’re just saying that because you’ve never been inside a woman before.”
He dipped his head, kissing across her breasts then glancing up at her. “No. It’s because it’s you.”
She stared at him and, for a moment, she was completely terrified.
Not because of who he was, or his magic, but because she wasn’t sure she could go back to the way things were even a few minutes ago, not after this.
The problem was, she wasn’t sure he even knew what he was doing.
When he had come for her at the temple, she had immediately assumed all his words and actions had been intentional and calculated, but now…
Almost everyone who held power like his had motives for everything they did. Perhaps when it came to his campaign to reclaim the throne, he did, but for the first time since coming here, she really considered that the things he said to her in moments like this were just what he felt.
She wanted to believe that.
She wished she could, fully and without fear.
Instead, she kissed him hard, letting herself be lost in the feel of him moving inside her.
He went slow but deep, whispering nonsense against her skin and paying attention to the angles that made her gasp and arch.
But when she felt his muscles tense for the third time, she touched his cheek and whispered, “You don’t need to stay in control anymore. You can trust me. Let go.”
He took a ragged breath, nodding against her forehead and sliding one hand up her leg, lifting it and deepening the angle before fucking her so hard, the bed shook.
It only lasted about a minute before he swore loudly and thrust his hips as he came, but that was all it took for her to come again too.
She thought she might have screamed but couldn’t tell if it was out loud or down the bond.
As he pulsed inside her, he muttered a rough litany of curses and praises, half-aloud and half down the bond in broken intervals.
Eventually, they both stilled, and he pulled out of her, though he didn’t let her go far, dragging her against his chest, breathing slowly, his lips pressed to the crown of her head. She closed her eyes, and the blurred edges of sleep began to drift in.
Just before she drifted off, Varax muttered grumpily down the bond, So glad you two idiots finally stopped being so stubborn. But next time, do try to leave me out of it.
Morgen laughed against Nya’s temple, and she smiled hazily when he replied, Apologies, Varax. But cut me some slack—it was my first time.
She practically felt the dragon sigh. And the world rejoiced.