Chapter 42 #2
Another moan slipped free, and Varyth bit down. A wicked nip to my nipple, a sting of pain licked away by his tongue.
My fingers fisted in his hair, tugging hard, but he didn’t let up. His mouth moved to my other breast, his lips wrapping around the neglected peak with a possessive hunger that had me shuddering beneath him.
One hand slid lower, fingers digging into my waist, gripping like he needed to pin me down, needed to keep me right there.
Beneath him.
At his mercy.
Nowhere else.
His other hand found my breast, kneading roughly, his thumb flicking over my nipple, rolling, pinching. He smirked against my skin when I moaned.
Varyth’s mouth trailed lower, his hands gripped my hips, fingers digging in as he nipped at the skin above where my dress was bunched.
“Varyth.”
He ignored me.
Or maybe he just wanted to hear me say his name again.
Varyth’s hands moved with agonising slowness, his fingers catching my dress, dragging it down my legs, my underwear sliding with it.
The discarded garments hit the floor, forgotten before they even landed. He didn’t spare them a glance. His focus was solely on me. His eyes devoured me, gliding over my skin inch by inch. His pupils dilated as he inhaled, breathing me in.
“Beautiful,” he rasped, the word dragged from somewhere deep inside him.
His voice wrapped around me, curling into my veins, seeping beneath my skin. My chest rose and fell too fast, my breaths uneven. His hands—gods, his hands—traced up my legs.
His fingers skimmed my knees, then higher, teasing over the sensitive skin of my thighs. He wasn’t rushing. No, Varyth was taking his time, drawing it out, revelling in the way I trembled beneath him.
My pulse thundered, my body tensing in anticipation. It was unbearable—the way he watched me like he was deciding how best to consume me.
“Varyth,” I gasped beneath him.
His mouth descended like he was starving.
His tongue licked a long, slow stripe through my centre like he had all the time in the world to taste the aftermath of fury and flame.
“Oh—fuck—”
I jolted, hips bucking off the desk, but his arms curled under my thighs, holding me wide and open and his.
“Gods,” he breathed against me, rough and soaked in sin. “You taste like fire.”
He licked me again, slower this time, savouring it. “Like smoke and battle and something mine.”
My hands clawed at the edge of the desk, the wood biting into my palms, useless against the relentless assault of his tongue.
“My mouth,” he muttered, pressing a kiss to the apex of my thighs before sucking hard enough I almost screamed. “Was made to worship you.”
My fingers twisted in his hair as though I could anchor myself through the storm he was dragging me into. But there was no anchoring. I was adrift, unravelling beneath the sheer worship of his mouth.
And gods, the way he groaned into me, as though my taste was both a reward and a punishment.
“You think anyone else could handle you like this?” His tongue plunged inside me, fucking deep and hard, and I shattered. “You think anyone else would survive you?”
His mist coiled tighter around my wrists, binding me to the desk. His hands squeezed my thighs, thumbs digging into the flesh.
“You’re all fire and fury,” he rasped, dragging his tongue flat and slow through my heat. “And you still fucking melt for me.”
A broken sound clawed out of my throat—somewhere between a sob and a plea. His arms tightened under my thighs, holding me open, holding me down as he feasted.
And I broke.
Pleasure detonated inside me, blinding and brutal. My entire body seized, a cry ripping from my lungs as I shattered beneath his mouth. My fire surged back to life, lashing out in sparks and shadow, licking up the edges of the desk—but Varyth didn’t pull away.
He groaned into my climax, his tongue dragging over me through every shudder, every quake, like he couldn’t get enough.
Varyth’s eyes were wild, molten with hunger as he pulled back, wiping the back of his hand across his mouth, his lips glistening, his expression utterly wrecked. The sight sent another shiver of need through me, my body still trembling, weak from his touch, but I didn’t care. I wanted more.
I barely had time to breathe before he was kissing up my body, all muscle and heat and hunger.
His mouth found mine, the kiss deep and demanding, his tongue sweeping inside. He tasted of power, of dominance, of the pleasure he had wrung from me. My moan was swallowed by him, lost in crushing heat. His hands roamed over my body, his fingertips dragging along every inch of bare skin.
“You’re going to do that again,” he said, dragging his mouth along my jaw. “I’ll make you come until your fire burns me.” He kissed me again, bit my bottom lip, then whispered against my mouth. “And then I’ll fuck you into the ashes.”
My hands fumbled between us, reaching for his pants, fingers working blindly at the fastenings. Varyth allowed it, but when I glanced up, I found him smirking against my lips. Gods I needed to wipe that smug look off his face.
I bared him with shaking hands.
He was thick, heavy in my hand, the heat of him searing against my palm. I wrapped my fingers around him and Varyth snarled—a brutal, guttural sound.
His hips thrust into my grip with no hesitation, no restraint.
“Fuck,” he growled through gritted teeth, his eyes dark and starved. “You touch me like that again and I’m going to ruin you.”
I didn’t stop.
My hand moved in slow, deliberate strokes, tightening just enough to make him hiss. His head dropped forward, a low groan rumbling through his chest as I dragged my thumb over the leaking tip.
“I want you to lose control,” I whispered, voice wrecked and shaking. “I want to see you unravel.”
He snapped.
Varyth surged forward, his mouth crashing onto mine, tongue demanding and wild as he thrust harder into my fist. His hands slammed down on the desk on either side of me, caging me in, wings flaring wide behind him.
“Do you feel what you do to me?” he growled into my mouth, rutting into my hand with a vicious rhythm. “This—fuck—this is what you turn me into.”
His hips stuttered, the movement erratic, desperate.
A wild, ruined creature of want.
And I fed on it.
I tightened my grip, dragging my hand slower just to see him flinch, to see his jaw go tight and his muscles bunch under the strain of not just taking.
But he grabbed my wrist, pulled it away from his cock, and shoved me flat against the desk.
His hand slid under my thigh, hitching it up, opening me again. The head of him pressed against my entrance, hot and hard and so fucking right.
“Then hold on, Isara,” he said, shaking with the weight of it, the want, the promise.
He thrust into me in one brutal, claiming stroke. A strangled cry tore from my throat, my spine bowing as he filled me, setting every nerve in my body on fire. I clawed at his back.
“Fuck, Isara—” Varyth’s hands locked under my thighs as he lifted me off the desk, angling my hips to take him deeper.
And gods.
He didn’t fuck like a male. He fucked like a storm.
Every thrust was devastating, his hips slamming into mine with bruising force. The room blurred around me, nothing but the sound of skin on skin, the ragged rhythm of our breath, the low, ruined growls he bit against my throat like he couldn’t get close enough.
“Fucking perfect,” he rasped.
He pounded into me again, and the desk cracked, one leg giving a violent lurch that sent papers spilling and inkwells shattering to the floor.
But Varyth didn’t stop. His grip bruised on my hips, his mouth a trail of violence and reverence down my neck, his mist coiling tighter around my waist like it needed to hold me together.
“You’re mine, Isara,” he growled against my lips.
“Yours,” I choked out. “Yours.”
He groaned, like I’d just shattered something vital in him, and then his wings flared wide behind him, glinting like burnished gold dipped in blood and starlight.
I reached for them.
My fingers slid along the edge of one wing, tracing the curve with reverent awe, and everything changed.
Varyth went rigid. His entire body locked, a sound tearing from his throat that was all shock, like I’d just touched lightning with my bare hands.
“Isara.” My name was a broken prayer, a warning, a plea all at once.
I traced higher, fingers ghosting over the joint where wing met shoulder blade. The wing trembled under my touch, and Varyth’s hips stuttered, his rhythm faltering completely.
“Don’t—” he gasped, but his wing pressed into my palm, betraying him. “You don’t know what you’re—fuck—”
I stroked along the leading edge, feeling the thrum of magic beneath my fingers.
“Sensitive?” I whispered, dragging my fingers through the feathers.
Varyth’s answering growl was feral. His hips snapped forward with renewed violence, fucking into me like he was trying to crawl inside my skin.
“Sensitive doesn’t—gods—doesn’t begin to cover it,” he panted against my throat, teeth scraping over my pulse. “Touch them again and I’ll—”
I did.
Both hands this time, sliding along the powerful arch of his wings. Varyth’s back bowed, his head thrown back as a sound of pure ecstasy ripped from his chest.
His thrusts turned savage. Like touching his wings had snapped the last thread of his control.
“Fuckfuckfuck—” The words tumbled from him in a breathless litany. His wings spread wider, trembling beneath my touch as I traced patterns along their surface.
“I can’t—” he gasped. “I can’t hold back—”
The desk gave up entirely, one leg splintering with a sharp crack that sent us sliding. But Varyth caught me before I could fall, his arms wrapping around my waist as he lifted me clear of the collapsing furniture.
My back hit the wall with enough force to rattle the shelves, books tumbling around us in a cascade of leather and parchment. But I barely noticed. Varyth’s mouth was on mine again, swallowing my gasp.
“Better,” he growled against my lips, his hands gripping my thighs as he held me pinned between his body and the stone wall. “Much fucking better.”
The new angle sent him deeper, and I cried out, my nails raking through his feathers as he shuddered beneath my touch.
“You’re going to kill me,” he panted, his forehead dropping to rest against mine as his hips moved. “Touching me like that—”
The pressure building inside me was overwhelming, white-hot and demanding.
His hand slipped between us, fingers finding that aching bundle of nerves.
I came apart.
Black fire erupted from my skin in ribbons of shadow and flame that licked harmlessly across his wings, wrapping around us both like a cocoon of midnight. Varyth snarled as the flames caressed his feathers, his thrusts becoming erratic, desperate.
“Yes,” he growled, his voice breaking on the word. “Burn for me—burn with me—”
The fire spread between us, dancing along our joined bodies without scorching, feeding off the pleasure that tore through me in waves.
Varyth finally shattered.
His wings snapped tight around us as he drove into me one final time, his release tearing through him. My name echoed off the stone walls as he spilled himself inside me with shuddering thrusts.
For a long moment, neither of us moved. Varyth’s face was buried in the crook of my neck, his breathing harsh and uneven. His wings had folded around us like a protective shield, trembling faintly with aftershocks.
“Fuck,” he breathed against my skin.
I let out a breathless laugh, my hands were tangled in his feathers. “That’s one way to put it.”
He lifted his head to look at me, and something had shifted in his expression—softer somehow, though no less intense.
“That,” he said quietly, his voice still rough. “Was not how I planned to handle a diplomatic crisis.”
Another laugh bubbled out of me. “I think we handled it perfectly,” I managed, still catching my breath. “Very... thorough negotiations.”
His chuckle was low and dark, vibrating through his chest where it pressed against mine. “Remind me to let you handle all future diplomatic meetings.”
“Absolutely not.” I traced lazy patterns along his wing, and his eyes fluttered shut at the touch. “I’m clearly a terrible diplomat. I started a war.”
“Worth it,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to my temple. His wings shifted, loosening their protective cocoon around us but not withdrawing completely. “Besides, we were probably heading for war anyway. You just... accelerated the timeline.”
I traced my thumb along the curve of his wing one more time, savouring the way he shuddered beneath my touch, the way his hips jerked involuntarily against mine.
“We should probably find the others.”
“Mhm.”
“Figure out a plan. Damage control. Something resembling strategy.” I gestured vaguely at the wreckage around us. The splintered desk leg, the scattered papers, the books that had tumbled from their shelves in our wake. “Maybe clean up the disaster we just created.”
“Yes.” His mouth found my pulse, teeth grazing lightly. “We should absolutely do all of that.”
“Varyth—”
“Soon.” His hands slid up my thighs, thumbs tracing idle circles that made my breath catch. “But I’m not done with you yet.”
The words sent heat coiling through me. “We just—the desk is literally broken.”
“I noticed.” His smile was pure sin. “We’ll use the floor next time.”
“Next time?”
“Or the wall again.” He kissed me, slow and deep and thorough. “The bookshelf. That chair in the corner. I’m flexible.”
My laugh turned into a gasp as his hands slid lower, as his mist coiled around my wrists with deliberate intent.
The others could wait. The war could wait.
For now—for just a few stolen minutes—there was only this.
Only him.