Chapter VI. The Heart of the Matter #2
“‘I was whole with them. Astrid. Patience. If never before or since. The devil up on that hill took them from me, Phoebe. And for that, he will die. I swear to whatever God still listens, I will smile as that blackhearted fucking bastard dies.’
“Her gaze drifted, as if she still searched for a way to steer me clear. ‘Gabe—’
“‘If Lilidh were here right now, if the monstress who took your husband from you was within your grasp, could you walk away?’
“Phoebe hung her head.
“‘Nae. I couldn’t.’
“She looked out into the night then, southward toward Dior, then up to that broken tumble of snow-clad stone, the grim chateau perched upon it. And though I could feel her weariness, her fear, still I saw her jaw clench.
“‘I’ll nae walk away now, neither.’
“‘Phoebe…’
“‘I told ye once I am nae green maid to swear troth to a man I barely know. And to that, I hold.’ She met my eyes, searching for some answer she’d never been able to find.
‘I fear I’m still nae the one to unbreak ye, Gabriel de León.
I know nae if any woman could. But I swear, by Mountains and sweet Mothermoons, though ye be one of the most foolhardy, shite-witted, pigheaded pricks I’ve ever met… ’
“I laughed then, and she in kind, fire twinkling in her gaze. But though her laugh faded, the fire remained, burning in that alloy of platinum and gold.
“‘Yer also one o’ the finest men I’ve ever known. If the world’s fate rests on this battle amorrow, I’d nae be counted among those who shirked its shores. But even if ye faced that devil wi’ naught at risk but yer life, I’d never leave ye to stand against him alone.’
“She pressed one hand to my cheek, tracing the teardrop scars Dior had left me with the edge of one talon. And though my vow to the ground still echoed in the halls of my heart, though this woman might never mend me, still I recalled how good it had felt to just hold her in my arms. I felt warmer for her closeness, and colder at the thought of our parting, and if I faced my death amorrow, I vowed at least I’d live tonight.
“‘I stand with ye, Gabe. If ye’ll have m—’
“My hands slipped about her waist, pulling her into my chest and silencing her with a kiss.
Fierce and swift and hot, she kissed me back, mouth open, surging against me like the tide before drawing back, back into the shallows.
She searched my eyes; smoldering, wondering, daring not to breathe.
But desire won her over, that blissful, hungry wanting swelling in us now, striking spark into our tinder and setting both aflame.
“She threw her arms about my shoulders as her mouth again found mine, clawing her way up my body and cinching her thighs about my waist so tight I gasped.
Eyes closed in the warmth of her kiss, I could only stagger, finally tumbling atop her on my bed.
We laughed, but our smiles died swift as that heat surged again, her hand slipping into my leathers as she wrapped her legs around me, talons raking over my arse.
“She rolled me onto my back, atop me as we kissed now, riding, writhing.
Tearing the ties of my shirt, she dragged it over my head before reaching to her own tunic and stripping herself bare.
Careful of the silver on my skin, I ran my touch over her body, drinking in the sight of her above me—hard curves and inkwork spirals and soft, bee-stung lips.
She took hold of my right hand to avoid the sevenstar on my left, pressing both together and raising them above my head, holding me pinned.
She kissed me again, tasting, teasing, letting herself lean forward just enough that the pebble-hard swells of her nipples brushed the silvered ink on my chest.
“Rearing back a breath, she bit my lip, hissing in pleasurepain as she let her breasts brush against me again, slow and torturous. Her hips moved, grinding hard against me as she breathed a command into my open mouth.
“‘Don’t move.’
“I did as she bid, hands yet above my head as she descended.
Long braids of wildfire hair caressing my skin, soft kisses cascading down my chest, every inch of skin not silvered, adored.
Her talons found the buckle of my swordbelt, flinging it and my scabbard aside.
Next went the ties on my leathers, dragged down to my knees and then clear.
Kicking off her own britches, she knelt naked astride me, silhouetted against ember light; a beauty of thorn and bramble, blood and scars.
Her eyes roamed my body, claws running down my raised arms, my heaving chest, over the hills and valleys of muscle at my belly, down, ever down.
I gasped as her touch reached my cock, skimming the smooth, hard heat of me, groaning as she took me in both hands and squeezed.
Eyes locked on mine, she tossed her hair back over her shoulders, and with a wicked smile, descended toward her sin.
“‘Oh, God…’
“Her tongue had me shivering, her lips had me shaking, her heat had me groaning, spine arching, head thrown back and struggling to breathe. I tell you, that woman devoured me then, ravenous, covetous, swallowing me whole. Her hunger seemed endless, her pace relentless, and though I’d have lived in that bliss forever, I couldn’t long stand it.
Trying to hold on, teeth gritted as she sucked me, hissing in warning, ‘God, Phoebe, if you don’t… ’
“‘I want it,’ she whispered. ‘Let me taste you.’
“Soft lips brushed against me, burning on my skin.
“‘Then you taste me.’
“Her tongue ran up my length, languid, sweet, eyes drowning in mine.
“‘All of me.’
“The thought was too much to bear, the memory of her blood flooding across my tongue one step too far.
Back into her mouth and over my edge, I plunged, white flame in my head, flooding into her mouth, lips peeling back from my fangs as she ended me.
Phoebe moaned, swallowing all I gave her then sighing, pleading, more, more.
My whole body shook as she suckled, teeth gritted against that blissful agony until I could bear it no longer, forced at the last to beg mercy.
She laughed then, scattering a waterfall of soft kisses over my cock.
And wordlessly she ascended, climbing up my body and straddling my face.
“‘Your turn.’
“I groaned, diving into that heaven, as hungry for her as she for me.
She was rust and honey and salt, already wet and warm as summer rain, soft and smooth beneath my tongue.
Eyes closed against the sight of her, naught but the taste of her, God, the scent of her, the heat of her, washing me over and drenching me through.
Phoebe swayed like a sapling in my storm, reaching for my hands yet above my head.
I tried to draw away, no wish to bring her pain until I realized that was her want now, pressing one silvered hand to her heaving breast, the other to her hip.
“‘Hurt me,’ she breathed.
“She hissed as silver scorched her skin, reaching behind my head to draw me in.
“‘Bite me.’
“My belly rolled at those words—two little words—bringing my whole world to its knees. That beast in me rising triumphant, the memory of sightless eyes and bloody sheets in León surfacing briefly, drowned by that monster’s defeating roar.
“‘Bite me, Gabriel.’
“Darkest delight at that command, no part of me not now its slave.
The thirst reared up within, a wave so high it blotted all light, my sky dashed crimson.
And turning my head, lips and tongue brushing against that wondrous divot at join of quim and thigh, I peeled back my lips and sank my fangs deep inside her.
“Blood. Blood. So simple a word for so beautiful and terrible a thing. So divine a cup to live for. So bleak a poison to die for. Into my mouth she flooded, rust and honey washed away beneath that wondrous red, red, the power of the Moonsthrone flooding my veins, through my thrashing heart, out to every humming finger’s tip.
Phoebe flung back her head, flaming tresses spilling down her back as she shattered, unmoored, unmade, and I had to seize hold her hips and pin her still as the stars collided in her skies.
“Still I drank, and still she’d not finished; her little deaths endless, dying again and again with every swallow.
Tremors ran her length, arching spine and bucking hips and curling toes.
But true death beckoned, that pleasure too deep for mortals long to bear, and finally she tore loose, tumbling, my lips, her thighs, the sheets all spattered red.
“God, so red.
“We lay breathless, gasping, side by side in that perfume.
Phoebe was still shaking, sheened in freshest sweat.
I lay drenched in her blood; the magik of earth corrupted that had smashed the walls of Maergenn like glass.
My thirst was dimmed but nowhere near sated, that monster reaching out through the bars.
The man and beast in me, so oft and long at war were one now, Phoebe rolling toward me, breathing around our bloody kiss.
“‘More.’
“I groaned, thrilling head to toe at the thought.
“‘Turn around.’
“She obeyed at once, rolling up onto all fours. Her body was poetry, sacred ink spiraling over perfect curves, her skin white as milk, scarred and spattered red. I drank in the sight of her, running rough hands over her goosebumps. Phoebe’s breath quickened as I rose up behind her, a predator kneeling now at her back, my shadow swallowing her whole.
She gazed at me over her shoulder, reaching back, petals parted between her fingertips.
“‘Fuck me slow. But fuck me now.’