Braith #2
The pain explodes through my throat, but this time I don't just accept it—I surrender to it completely.
A moan tears from my lips, raw and shameless, the sound of a woman getting exactly what she craves.
I arch back against him, pressing my ass against his erection, grinding against him while he feeds.
“Fuck,” I gasp as he drinks deeper. “Yes.”
The feeding creates sensation where our bodies touch. My panties grow wet until I know everyone in the Orchard can smell my arousal. The silk dress clings to my sweat-dampened skin as I writhe against him.
Through the connection, I feel his desperation, his need, his overwhelming hunger finally being satisfied. But more than that—I feel his arousal, his cock throbbing as I move against him, his barely contained desire to throw me down and claim me properly.
“More,” I demand, my voice rough with need. “Take more.”
One of Jesseth's guards makes a strangled sound. I force my eyes open, meeting Jesseth's burning gaze while Kiakoa's teeth work at my throat. The elderly lord's pupils are blown wide, his breathing shallow as he watches me get off on being fed from.
“You see?” I manage between gasps, speaking directly to him while pleasure builds through my system. “Not a victim. A partner.”
Kiakoa growls against my throat, the vibration going straight to my soaking pussy. His arm tightens around my waist, a solid anchor as I shake with need. The hand at my hip slides lower, pressing the silk against my thigh, making the wet spot between my legs more obvious.
I'm going to come. Right here, in front of four strangers, from being bitten and bled. The realization pushes me higher, makes me buck against Kiakoa's restraining arm.
“Please,” I beg, not caring who hears. “Please don't stop.”
He drinks deeper, pulling not just blood but essence, everything that makes me hurt inside. The bone-deep weariness, the years of chilling numbness, the hollow ache in my soul—it all drains away, replaced by perfect empty pleasure that builds and builds until I can't contain it.
I come with a cry that echoes through the Orchard, my body convulsing in his arms as orgasm takes me. My cunt clenches around nothing, desperate for something to fill the emptiness, while aftershocks make my legs shake.
Kiakoa holds me through it, his mouth still working at my throat, drawing out every drop of sensation until I'm boneless and gasping. When he finally pulls back, I can barely stand.
The wounds seal immediately, but I'm left marked in other ways. My dress is disheveled, clinging damply to my overheated skin. My hair has come loose from its careful arrangement. There's no hiding what just happened, what I just did in front of witnesses.
“Impressive,” Jesseth says, his voice rougher than before. One of his guards is openly adjusting himself, trying to hide his reaction to the display.
Kiakoa's arm tightens around me possessively. “She is mine,” he says, the words a growling declaration that makes my still-sensitive body clench with renewed want.
“And if this is true, you would be hers,” Jesseth observes. “The bond works both ways.”
“Yes.”
“That level of... enthusiasm... cannot be faked.”
I find my voice, though it comes out husky and satisfied. “Why would I fake it? This is what I've needed my whole life.”
Jesseth circles us slowly, his pale eyes studying the healing bite marks on my throat. “Remarkable. The legends spoke of accelerated healing, of a symbiotic loop. To see it in person...”
He approaches without asking permission, cold fingers tracing the silver lines where Kiakoa's teeth pierced my skin. I don't flinch at the clinical touch—nothing like the response I have when Kiakoa handles me.
“A creature of your caliber deserves a mate who can fully appreciate her rarity,” Jesseth says conversationally, still touching my throat. “Protect her adequately. Someone with the resources and historical knowledge to help you explore what you are truly capable of.”
The temperature drops. I feel Kiakoa's body go rigid behind me, centuries of diplomatic training the only thing preventing violence.
“Kiakoa is young,” Jesseth continues, addressing me directly. “He is powerful, but ignorant. He has stumbled upon a power he doesn't understand. I offer a partnership grounded in knowledge, a chance to rediscover the lost arts of our people, together.”
The insult hangs in the air. He's suggesting Kiakoa is too young and stupid to handle me.
“I'll consider it,” I say evenly, enjoying how Kiakoa's breathing changes behind me.
Jesseth steps back, satisfied. “Should circumstances change, Lady Braith, my offer stands.”
“Show me your scars again,” he adds, gesturing to my arms.
I extend my arms without hesitation, letting him see the thin white lines that cross my inner arms. In the moonlight, they tell the story of years spent seeking what I've finally found.
“You did this because you couldn't find what you needed elsewhere.”
“Yes.”
“And now?”
I look up at Kiakoa, at the golden eyes that burn with possessive hunger. “Now I have someone who can give me everything I crave and more.”
Kiakoa's hand slides to the back of my neck, fingers tangling in my disheveled hair. The gesture is clearly possessive, marking me as his in front of potential rivals.
Jesseth studies our faces, his expression unreadable. “Wait by the horses.”
The guards withdraw, leaving us alone among the bone-white trees and pulsing fruit.
“What I witnessed tonight was not weakness,” Jesseth says once we are private. “It was the rediscovery of a lost power. One that will change the balance between all our territories.”
“Then you will stand with us?”
“I will stand with you. But not for friendship, Kiakoa. For survival. If word of this spreads, if other lords begin seeking their own Resonance Partners...” He gestures toward the pulsing fruit above our heads. “The old ways will become obsolete.”
“And that frightens you?”
“It exhilarates me.” Jesseth's smile shows teeth. “I have grown tired of the old games. This promises something far more interesting.”
He produces a small, glowing crystal from his coat, holding it up to catch moonlight.
“A gift,” he says, offering it to Kiakoa.
“To seal our alliance. This is an undeveloped Ward Seed. It will need time and energy to mature, but it is a start. Vasek will not expect you to have functional wards when he attacks.”
Kiakoa accepts the crystal with careful hands. “This will not go unnoticed. Vasek will know you have chosen sides.”
“Let him know. Let them all know.” Jesseth's eyes hold the same hunger I see in Kiakoa's gaze. “The old order is dying. We can either help birth what comes next, or be buried alongside what came before.”
When Jesseth and his guards ride away, I am left with the taste of blood in my mouth and a sense that tonight has changed far more than just political alignments.
Only after he's gone do I face Kiakoa's burning eyes.
“You'll consider it?” His words are barely controlled.
“I was being polite.”
“While another male offered to steal you from me.”
“He can't steal what chooses to stay.”
His hands frame my face, thumbs pressing against where Jesseth touched me. “You have no idea what you are. What others will do to possess you. What I will do to keep you.”