Chapter Twenty-One #3
“Nothing is leaving this room,” Malachi rumbled, “if that’s what your stricken look is about. I said I can take whatever you throw out, Princess. Is that it? Are you done?”
She gnashed her teeth, was about to spit that she wasn’t close to fucking done.
But then she realized the call to destroy, the violent fury that had erupted inside her, had dulled and was rapidly fading more and more.
She heaved in a few breaths, her aether flames swirling above the table vanishing when she calmed.
Malachi’s shadows in the same spot disappeared at once.
The darkness covering the window remained.
They stood on opposite sides of the table, staring at each other, both breathing hard and visibly drenched in sweat.
“Not nearly,” she snarled. She didn’t even know what she meant by it.
She also didn’t know who moved first.
All she knew was that between one labored breath and another, her and Malachi’s bodies were colliding in the center of the room, and they were enmeshed in a kiss as violent and furious as their magics had been when they clashed.
The burning, molten need she’d felt to destroy was replaced by a different raging, uncontrollable need—one that had her tearing at Malachi’s tunic and pants while he did the same to her flying leathers until they were both nude.
Shadows swept across the table beside them, reducing the food and platters on it to fine silt.
Then Malachi was throwing her atop the marble, the silt covering the cool slab like a silken caress at her back.
The sculpted muscles of Malachi’s chest and abs pressed down on her in a way that was nothing close to gentle.
His calloused hands moved roughly over her thighs, her hips, up her sides to knead her breasts.
In response she dragged her nails down his corded back, drawing blood, and along the tight, defined globes of his ass, digging them into his flesh.
He growled. So did she. And then he was sinking into her, burying himself so deep that a cry tore from her that she couldn’t hold back even if she’d wanted to.
In the moment, she didn’t desire to attempt to curb anything.
She let herself relish in the sensations, in the lapse of control, because in this manner it came without fear that she’d harm something or someone who didn’t deserve it.
I can take whatever you throw out, Malachi had arrogantly informed her.
It was a crass statement that was utterly true, and so she didn’t hold anything back.
When she tightened her legs around his waist and he held her left hip in an iron grip while banding his other hand around her throat and squeezing while moving furiously inside her, she gave herself over to it.
She lifted her hips to meet him brutal thrust for brutal thrust, and she didn’t hold back the fresh purple flames that sparked and flowed around them.
Malachi’s eyes were locked on hers, yet he surely felt their heat.
But his gaze never strayed. Shadows encircled her flames, both of their magics giving off the effect of a double-layered cocoon.
And all the while, Malachi never broke the rhythm of the delicious, brutal strokes that had her eyes rolling back and stars exploding across her vision.
She moaned Malachi’s name, and the lush darkness of a moonless night glittered in his eyes.
So did a smugness that was all male. Then, he somehow buried himself deeper, moving harder and faster within her, a feat she didn’t think possible before.
Her screams rent the air. His name became a refrain that she might’ve been mortified to sputter if she wasn’t completely lost to the excruciating rapture of his strokes.
At some point, amidst the relentless assault of rough stroke after rough stroke and the sweet burn at her neck that had her breathing raggedly, she squeezed her eyes shut, floating among oblivion, a fresh orgasm building.
“Eyes open, Princess. Don’t look away from me, Kadeesha,” Malachi demanded.
Her eyes flew open, her body automatically keyed in the moment to obey Malachi’s every carnal command.
The pressure around her neck intensified as he squeezed tighter, while his thumb caressed her pulse point as if in tender reverence.
The stark contrast—the delicate circles his thumb drew against her neck and the iron, merciless grip he had on her throat while fucking her with wild, reckless abandon—was a heady mix that left her gushing around him.
“That’s right,” he growled into her ear. “Keep gripping me just like you’re doing and come all over my dick. Make an utter mess of us both, Princess.”
She moaned.
“You like being filled with my cock, don’t you, Kadeesha?” Malachi asked, voice gravelly and chock-full of male satisfaction. “You like it rough and hard and deep? That feel good? You want me?” Malachi underscored each question with furious stroke after stroke.
She was beyond words, could only cry out his name.
“You need me?”
He released his grip on her neck, then licked the spot in a soothing manner before sinking his teeth into the pulse point there.
She cried out again.
“I asked you a question, Kadeesha,” he rumbled.
“I want an answer. So figure that shit out. Breathe for me and find your words.” It was a glaring challenge, too full of his ego to be anything else.
She managed to cut through the thickest part of the lust-filled haze because she’d be damned if she allowed him to leave this encounter thinking he’d thoroughly reduced her to a state of mindlessness with nothing except the power of his dick.
Oh, he had done precisely that. But he didn’t need to be aware of the full extent to which he’d been successful.
“Fuck you,” she hissed. “Need you? I hate you.”
He withdrew from her until only the tip of his thick, magnificently long length remained inside.
Even that was enough to stretch her so deliciously.
She bit her tongue to keep from whimpering in protest. He watched her intently as he mused, “You and I both know you don’t mean that.
At least not right now.” Then, he hooked his hands behind her knees, spread her legs wider, and surged back into her as if to emphasize an additional point.
His furious strokes were a punishment, a lesson, and a gift all at once.
“You fucking love me when I’m inside you.
Admit it, Princess.” Malachi’s adept fingers found her clit, pinched it while he moved oh-so-gloriously inside her.
At the same time, his lips formed a seal against her neck, sucking and biting the flesh.
It was too much. It unraveled the last of her pride.
She cried out, “Yes! Yes! Fucking yes! I love all of it! You feel good! So damn good! I need you to … to keep fucking me just like this! More! I want more!”
“Good girl,” he whispered into her ear. “You look stunning the way you take this cock, the way you come undone around it, the way you scream my name, the way you come. Do it again. Come for me again now, love.”
His dirty words shot straight to her core.
But more than that, his rich velvety voice tore through her, left her staggered in a way she’d have the presence of mind to be alarmed about later.
For now, all she could focus on was how her nipples tightened painfully, the friction of them brushing against Malachi’s bare chest almost too maddening to bear.
She palmed one of her own breasts, rolling the nipple between her fingers.
Malachi snarled and slapped her hand away, delivering a sharp sting to her breast as he did.
His hand replaced hers, pinching her nipple, and then his teeth clamped down around it.
That combined with his relentless thrusts was all she needed to obey his command.
She came for him, melting beneath him, melting around him.
She screamed his name while digging her nails into his back and dragging them downward, scoring his flesh and drawing blood.
“I like that shit. Love when you do that shit,” he growled, his movements becoming more erratic. Then he was crashing his lips against hers, kissing her senseless as he grew even more rigid inside of her and came as hard as she had.
Afterward, all either of them could do was pant.
When he touched his forehead to hers and nipped at her bottom lip, she sat up so she could properly tighten her hands around his back and clutch him to her.
She buried her face in his chest and inhaled deeply, letting Malachi’s crisp, woodsy scent envelope her.
He was still seated inside her and her mind protested any distance between them before he even pulled away.
Dimly, a warning blared somewhere in the back of her mind.
But she couldn’t think straight with him so close.
She was too lost in the feel and smell and heat emanating from Malachi to heed it.
She needed distance. She needed air. She needed to push him away.
But all she wanted to do was continue clinging to him, and she did.
The same corner of her mind where the alarm sounded yelled at her that she’d waded into dangerous territory.