20. Lirien
20
LIRIEN
" W atch your step," Darak says, holding his hand out to me.
The wind whips my hair around my face as we climb higher, the thin mountain air making each step more challenging. Darak's hand remains extended, waiting. My heart flutters at the simple gesture, remembering how those same fingers traced paths across my skin just hours ago in the early morning light.
After last night, I wasn't sure what to say. Did Darak really mean what he said? After all this, he didn't want to break the bond?
The thought gave me hope. Too much hope. The kind that could shatter what little remained between us if I misinterpreted his words, if I let myself believe in something that wasn't there. My fingers absently traced the scar on my cheek, remembering how close we'd come to ending everything.
So I simply hadn't said anything at all. And Darak hadn't pressed me to, his crimson eyes occasionally finding mine but never demanding answers I wasn't ready to give. Perhaps he understood the weight of silence better than most.
"I won't let you fall," he says, his voice barely carrying over the whistling wind.
I take his hand, very aware of how perfectly mine fits within it. The rocks beneath my feet shift treacherously, but Darak's grip remains steady. Through our strengthened bond, I feel his concern pulse alongside his determination.
"The path narrows ahead," he warns, pulling me closer to the mountain wall. "Stay against the rock face."
My robes catch the wind, billowing around my legs. Darak's free hand catches the fabric, tucking it closer to my body. The casual intimacy of the gesture makes my chest ache.
"You're quiet this morning," he says, helping me over a particularly precarious section.
"Just focusing on not plummeting to my death." The excuse sounds weak even to my ears.
"Liri." The nickname sends a shiver through me that has nothing to do with the cold. "About last night?—"
"We should save our breath for climbing." I cut him off, not ready to hear whatever he might say. What if the bond is making him feel things that aren't real? What if when he learns the truth...
His thumb strokes across my knuckles, and through our connection, I feel his frustration mixed with something warmer, something that terrifies me even more than the sheer drop beside us.
He brings my hand up to his mouth and offers a kiss—his way of relenting. I offer a gentle smile in return.
The mountain path widens enough for us to walk side by side, and Darak's hand shifts from helping me to simply holding mine. His thumb traces circles on my skin, sending tingles up my arm.
"So, tell me about this coven of yours," he says, breaking our comfortable silence.
My stomach twists. "It's small," I reply, keeping my eyes fixed on the path ahead.
"That's it?" Darak's laugh echoes off the rocks. "I assume it's not your mother's coven, considering what you've told me about them."
I shrug, adjusting my robes against a particularly strong gust of wind. "You'll see when we get there."
"Always so mysterious." His crimson eyes dance with amusement. He tugs me closer, his free hand brushing a strand of hair from my face. "Though I suppose that's part of your charm."
"My charm?" The word comes out with a rough laugh as his fingers linger on my cheek.
"Mmm. Along with those pretty green eyes." He leans in, his breath warm against my ear. "And that delicious sound you made last night when I?—"
"Darak!" Heat floods my face as I push against his chest. I feel his satisfaction at my reaction. "You're so smug."
"What? No one's around to hear." His grin turns wicked. "Unless you'd like to go another round?"
The worst part is how tempting the offer sounds. I roll my eyes instead, trying to ignore how his thumb has resumed its maddening circles on my palm.
"Keep dreaming."
"Oh, I will." Darak's voice drops to that dangerous purr that makes my skin tingle. His crimson eyes fix on me with predatory intent. "What happened to that appetite you mentioned? Wasn't it the size of an army?"
A bold laugh escapes me, the tension in my chest finally easing. The cold mountain air nips at my face, but warmth spreads through my body from our strengthened bond. "You wouldn't survive my appetite no matter how hard you tried."
The words have barely left my lips when Darak's hands grip my waist. He spins me around, pressing me against the rocky mountain face. The rough stone digs into my back through my robes, but I barely notice as his body cages mine.
"I'd like to test that." His breath fans hot against my neck, sending shivers down my spine that have nothing to do with the altitude.
One of his hands slides up to cup my face, thumb tracing the scar he gave me what feels like a lifetime ago. His other hand grips my hip, pulling me closer until there's no space left between us.
My breath catches as his thigh presses between my legs. "Here? In the open?"
"Why not?" His lips brush my ear. "No one's around for miles."
I should push him away. We need to keep moving. The longer we take to reach the shrine, the harder it will be to face what comes next. But when his mouth finds that sensitive spot below my ear, rational thought becomes increasingly difficult.
The icy wind cuts across the mountain path, but Darak's body against mine is a furnace that stokes an entirely different kind of shiver. He's all hard muscle and heat, his fingers skimming my cheek before tangling in my hair. His touch is both a challenge and a promise—a taunting reminder of the power we hold over each other.
"Careful, Liri," he murmurs, his voice a low rumble that vibrates through me. "You look like you're about to devour me whole."
I lift my chin, meeting his crimson gaze with a defiance that belies the way my heart races. "And if I am?"
His smirk is answer enough. He leans in, his lips grazing the shell of my ear. "Then I'd say it's about time you got a taste."
The world around us fades into a backdrop of shadows and whispers as his mouth finds mine. The kiss is fierce, all teeth and tongue and the sharp edge of need. My fingers clutch at his armor, pulling him closer, as if I could meld our bodies together and never let go.
Darak's hand slides into my robes, his palm hot against my skin. He cups my breast over my shirt, his thumb circling my nipple through the fabric, and I can't help but moan into his mouth. He tastes like victory and sin, and I am all too willing to surrender to the temptation he offers.
He pulls back just enough to speak, his breath mingling with mine. "Let go, Liri. Let me hear you."
I bite my lip, hesitating for a fraction of a second before releasing a soft whimper of desire. Darak's eyes flash with triumph, and he rewards me by rolling my nipple between his fingers, sending jolts of pleasure straight to my core.
"Is this what you want?" he teases, his voice a silken thread that wraps around my senses. "Or do you need more?"
I answer him with another kiss, this one even more fervent than the last. My hands roam over his chest, feeling the steady thump of his heart beneath my fingertips. He growls in approval, his fingers gripping my hair as our bodies press flush against each other.
We're a tangle of limbs and desire, the bond between us thrumming with an energy that's as wild and untamed as the mountains themselves. Darak's touches are both a balm and a provocation, each caress igniting a fire that threatens to consume us both.
The cold stone at my back is a stark contrast to the warmth of our embrace. I cling to him, my lips trailing a path along his jawline, savoring the salt and leather scent of his skin. His thigh presses between my legs, and I grind against him, seeking friction, seeking release from the exquisite tension coiling within me.
"Fuck, Liri," Darak groans, his hands roaming down to grip my thighs, lifting me effortlessly against the rock face. "You're going to be the death of me."
I laugh against his mouth, a sound that's all breath and need. "Then let's make it a glorious end."
His fingers fumble with the clasps of my robes, the cold metal biting into his skin. I shiver, though whether it's from the chill in the air or the anticipation building within me, I'm not entirely sure. Darak's crimson eyes are fixed on mine, a silent promise of the pleasure to come.
"Patience," I whisper, my voice betraying a hint of amusement despite the urgency of my desire.
"I'm beyond patience," he growls, the clasps finally yielding under his determined hands. My robes fall open, revealing the thin undergarments beneath. Darak's gaze rakes over me, his appreciation evident in the way his eyes darken.
He drops to his knees before me, his hands deftly tugging at my pants. I lift my hips, helping him as he pulls the fabric down my legs, leaving me exposed to the biting wind—and to his hungry gaze.
His hands grip my thighs, spreading me open for him. I should feel vulnerable, but all I feel is a desperate need for his touch. He leans in, his breath hot against my sensitive flesh, and I can't help but whimper in anticipation.
"Darak, please..." The words slip from my lips, a plea for the release I know only he can give me.
His tongue darts out, tasting me, and a jolt of pleasure shoots through my body. I gasp, my fingers tangling in his hair as he delves deeper, exploring me with a ravenous intensity that leaves me trembling.
"You taste like magic," he murmurs against my skin, the vibration of his words sending shivers down my spine.
I respond with a moan, my hips bucking against his mouth as his tongue circles my clit. His hands slide under me, gripping my ass and holding me in place as he feasts on me like a man starved.
He adds his fingers, thrusting into me in time with the movements of his tongue. My body arches off the cold stone at my back, the contrast between the harsh elements and Darak's warm mouth only heightening the sensations coursing through me.
"Gods, Darak..." My voice is a ragged whisper, lost to the wind as I teeter on the edge of oblivion.
His fingers curl inside me, finding that perfect spot that sends me spiraling over the edge. My orgasm crashes over me, wave after wave of pleasure that leaves me gasping for breath.
Darak pulls back, his lips glistening as he watches me come undone. His eyes meet mine, and in them, I see a fierce satisfaction that mirrors my own.
"Beautiful," he says, his voice a low rumble that resonates in the quiet aftermath of my climax. "Think you can handle more?"
I bark out a laugh and shoot back, "I think that's a question for you."