Chapter 13 Blackwell
Chapter Thirteen
BLACKWELL
I had actually fallen asleep.
That was the first thought that crossed my fuzzy consciousness as I blinked my heavy eyes open, instantly being assaulted by different scents and sights.
My system jolted as I tightened my heavy arm around the small frame pressed against me, the brush of a tiny nose and soft pair of lips against my neck reminding me of who I was in bed with.
Not that there was any chance of forgetting, with stands of bright pink hair crossing my vision and her intoxicating scent wrapped around me.
There was not anyone else in Under or Above like Arabella, and for sure no one that I would ever want to touch or hold like this.
She was intoxicatingly unique and, in this moment, absolutely mine.
Even if I couldn’t keep us in this bubble forever.
My gaze focused on the afternoon light that filtered across her messy desk and into her room.
If I had to guess, it was somewhere around four, maybe five in the evening, and I was both praising my stars that it was the day after a mission because we weren’t missing anything important…
and cursing that we had slept in so late.
There would be no way to hide what happened between us as it was, but if I thought her absence, or mine, wouldn’t go without note, then I had lost it far more than I thought.
Oh well.
I wouldn’t want to hide this, even if it was probably the smarter idea. I could never be ashamed of what had happened, and I found myself wanting to spread the news rather than be silent about it. Let everyone fucking know that I’d gotten to touch and taste her.
Letting out a content sound from my throat, I realized no one had yet to wake us, and while I didn’t think that changed anything, it meant a few more moments alone with her.
I had never slept with Arabella before, and I was finding that last night had been one of the best nights of sleep I’d gotten in years.
Falling asleep to her tiny, curvy frame pressed up against me like a sated kitten was absolute bliss, and if I had half a mind, I would put a ward around her room so that we could stay in bed for the rest of the day.
I would have to order food for her though. I always forgot how much humans needed to sleep and eat, and I felt Arabella needed more than most. It couldn’t be easy trying to keep up with and handle nightmares all day, although I would be perfectly fine with her handling me however she wanted.
My chest swelled with pride, remembering how she had trusted me last night and how easily she’d given into my touch.
I would have been perfectly fine with her taking charge in bed if she wanted, but the compelling urge for me to dominate her cute ass seemed to be one she was agreeable with.
Thank fuck. It would be a difficult compulsion to ignore.
My nose brushed her ear as she let out a soft sound, rubbing her leg against mine as she squirmed further against me so that I could feel every part of her soft, perfect frame.
My cock took notice, jumping to life, as my eyes dipped down to her breasts pressed tight against her shirt, straining slightly on the pulled material.
Arabella may have been small and delicate, but the woman had mouthwatering curves, and it was impossible to not take notice.
My magic came to life, heating my skin, as flames seemed to light up every inch of me in accordance to the amount of lust I had for her. Goddamnit, this woman was a shot of heroin, an instant, reactive high. I don’t think she even realized how appealing she was. How badly I wanted her.
“Blackwell,” she sighed, nuzzling against me.
At least I didn’t have to worry about her regretting last night, it seemed, something that settled a part of me that I hadn’t even realized existed.
I may have been a bit worried that she would wake up to regret letting me into her bed.
I had never been anyone’s first choice in anything, so for her to willingly want me in her bed was something that was almost impossible to ignore.
I wish I could say I was upset at my lack of willpower, but to hear the woman I loved tell me that she wanted me?
I was willing to let my ‘pride’ over my control be absolutely destroyed.
“Morning, love.” My tongue darted out across my lips, still tasting her sweetness and wishing that I trusted myself to kiss down her hot body without ripping off her clothes and attacking her this morning.
Without pinning her underneath me and taking exactly what both of us so clearly wanted, whether it was the ‘right’ thing to do or not. Whether it was safe or not.
Being in bed with Arabella was so dangerous, in part because it felt like the most perfect thing in the world.
There were a million reasons that I should get up and distance myself, but the longer we stayed like this, the more I realized it was a pointless battle.
That ship had sailed. Cy knew it. Razar even knew it.
All of us fucking knew it. We just needed to figure something out.
Maybe… I could just make her come enough that she was exhausted and fell into bed each and every night satisfied.
I could take care of myself, or I could suffer in silence.
I just had to make the others see reason, because we were breaking down pretty quickly in our resolve.
All it had taken was Arabella pushing the slightest amount, and we’d given in.
If we didn’t make a plan, it was entirely possible that she would get hurt or we would lose her.
“I think I’m hung over,” Arabella mumbled, pulling back slightly as her unique gaze ran over my face with interest. I knew she would be asking for her glasses soon, and I was suddenly glad I had remembered to grab them off the floor from when I had thrown her cute ass over my shoulder for being a brat.
Although, I would happily carry her around everywhere so she didn’t accidentally hurt herself, if necessary.
“I wish I could make you feel better.” I cupped her jaw, rolling her over so that I was pinning her underneath me, looking over her sleepy expression.
I would have loved to make her feel better in a lot of different ways, but I truly meant taking away her hangover right now.
Her eyes kept closing, and she winced as the sun hit her bed at an angle, enough to make me want to hide her from it.
Although, that would have been a shame because it really was lighting her up.
I sat back and looked over her, finding myself in awe of how gorgeous she was, her hair glinting in different shades of dark and light pink and her skin seeming to shimmer like a diamond-smooth surface.
If she realized how intensely I studied her with my free time, she would think I was a nutcase… or obsessed. Both were accurate.
“And my hips hurt.” She groaned, yawning before stretching underneath me as my eyes tracked the way her shirt rode up on her small waist. My frame froze as I caught sight of something that had me pushing up her shirt, my chest squeezing in realization of why exactly her hips were hurting.
“Fuck,” I mumbled in shock. A wave of possessiveness rocked through me as I gently peeled down her yoga pants so that they were caught low on her hips.
I was tempted to pull them down more, wanting access to her tight little pussy, but not trusting myself, considering what I was looking at right now was making me so goddamn hard it wasn’t even funny.
“What?” She frowned as my fingers ran over where they had clearly been yesterday, gripping her hips and locking her tight little cunt against my mouth. Now, in the morning light, it was very clear that my grip on her had done so much more than I could have predicted. I had… I’d marked her.
Actually, more than marked her. There were literal dark rune-like symbols that matched the massive marking on my chest that had appeared when I’d come into my magic fully.
Except hers covered her hips and were black markings intertwined with vibrant gold flames of color that flickered in the sunlight and seemed to move as if they were alive.
As if she really had fire dancing across her skin.
Holy hell, this was unreal. I would have called them almost medallion-like in shape, but they felt more like brands that showcased my claim on her.
I’d done this. I’d marked her. Branded her.
And I should have felt guilty about that because I clearly hadn’t asked…
but I felt absolutely zero remorse or regret.
In fact, I hadn’t realized just how much I wanted my mark on her until I was now seeing it.
I hadn’t even realized that was a possibility, but I fucking loved it.
Arabella was mine, and nothing could change that. She was absolutely fucking mine.
“Blackwell?” Her voice was softly curious as she lifted herself up on elbows, her gaze moving towards mine.
Her cheeks were flushed, making me thrilled, but it was a bit difficult to focus on that, if we were being honest. Her next words pulled me out of my rather unhealthy train of thought.
One that could only lead me down a very dangerous path, as in exploring this newfound addiction to figuring out more ways of marking her.
The high I felt looking over such clear ownership was like nothing else I had ever experienced.
“What is that?” Her voice was hesitant. She didn’t seem upset, just surprised. Was she going to be upset when I explained?
I swallowed, not knowing what to say. Instead, I kept my gaze on her, reaching over to grab her glasses from her nightstand before slipping them on her delicate features. She offered me a soft smile before looking down at the marks.