Chapter Twenty-Six
THE NIGHT KING
The first real taste of my soul-fated is sublime and dangerous, like a shot of the most potent aphrodisiac. I want to bring her to the ecstasy she can only reach at my hands. On my tongue. On my cock. I want to claim her. Mark her. Own her.
Fuck her senseless.
Driven by pure carnal instinct, my mouth ravages hers, the beast inside of me making his needs known as his primal consciousness rides mine.
I force myself to calm, not wanting to lose myself to the curse too soon, but the softness of her lips, the decadent wellspring of her mouth, and those soft moans and whimpers of desire will be my undoing.
Gods . . .
I drag my mouth away, licking along the tender line of her jaw to her throat.
I suck harder when she moans, desperate to see my mark on her gorgeous, lustrous skin.
With my free hand, I yank up her skirts and lift her so that she can wrap her legs around my waist. When her hot core grinds again mine through the thin barrier of her undergarments, my knees nearly buckle.
I shift her back to the stone wall beside the window, relishing in the needy sound she makes when I circle my hips, my cock aching for friction and sweet relief.
“How wet are you for me, pátnī?” I growl. “Shall we find out?”
A dazed but lucid gaze burns into mine. “Not. Your. Wife.”
“My soul-fated then.”
“You’re grasping at straws. You rejected that.”
I chuckle. Defiant to the last. One day, I’ll fuck the insolence from her lips, but for now, I’m too focused on discovering if she craves me as much as I crave her.
I kiss my way down her chest and greedily lift her breasts from her bodice, delighting in the velvety pink-brown peaks that are practically begging for my attention.
I scrape my teeth over her nipple, while pinching the other between my fingers.
She whimpers but winds her fingers into my hair to yank my head to her other breast.
“Harder,” she whispers.
Yes, my fiery little star loves the bite of pain with her pleasure. I oblige, sucking hard and nibbling over her delicious skin, leaving a trail of dark red marks behind. My beast practically purrs with satisfaction.
“Darrius,” she moans. “I need to . . . please.”
“I’ll give you what you need.” I grasp her throat again, collaring her. “Say you’re mine.”
Even in the throes of desire, her mouth tightens. “No.”
I grind my hips into hers, feeling the head of my cock push up through my waistband and notch into a sweet spot that makes her cry out.
I mimic the act of fucking, rolling my pelvis up into hers and watching her pupils swallow the gray of her irises with each stroke. “Tell me, wife, who do you belong to?”
“Myself,” she gasps, and glares at me, magic roiling in her eyes. Her fist, already tangled in my hair, pulls downward, dragging my face to hers. “Stop fucking teasing me, Dare, or I’ll finish myself off.”
Gods, she’s a fucking queen who bows to no one.
She called me Dare . . .
Desire ignites, sending my shadows into a frenzy.
They wind in her hair, shuttle up her legs, tug on her exposed breasts, exploring every inch of heated, fragrant skin they can touch.
Her runes are incandescent, nearly blinding me.
Ashes below, my magic loves them, darkness dancing over the radiant symbols with a profound reverence, coaxing them out to play even though her magic is inhibited by those cursed cuffs.
A spike of anger barrels through me—I’ll eviscerate the fucking soul that dared to manacle her .
. . that dared to subjugate my mate. My bones shudder and my skin tightens as the manticore claws against my insides.
Impotent rage makes me fight the curse for a handful of agonizing seconds, but I refuse to lose myself to it before I can savor what is mine.
Calm, calm, calm.
Miraculously, the beast retreats almost with a strange sense of mutual understanding.
How?
But I’m too far gone to process why any of this is even possible—too grateful for the reprieve I’ve been granted. I need to grasp each moment I can before it’s snatched away.
Nearly mindless with lust, I claim Suraya’s lips in a drugging kiss while easing her legs to the ground.
My soul-fated lets out a noise of discontent, but I snake my right hand between us, beneath the copious layers of skirts, and slide up her thigh to cup her mound.
She’s so starsdamned hot that I can feel her arousal pulsating through the gratifyingly damp fabric.
Tugging down her undergarments, I drag a finger through her drenched folds and groan at the silken sensation. “Fuck, Starbright. You’re soaked.”
She writhes helplessly against me, hips chasing the friction.
My thumb settles on her clitoris, and she lets out a whimper, nails digging into my shoulder.
I ease my middle finger into her and she grips me with that velvet heat.
So fucking tight. So starsdamned wet. I add another finger, working both into her, relishing the sound of her desperate moans as she clenches hungrily around me.
I groan and sink my teeth into the bare flesh of her shoulder. I’m half on the edge already, cock aching with need as her warm arousal coats my fingers.
My mouth waters, the beast inside inciting me for a taste.
Patience, I caution him. Good things will come to those who wait.
Astonishingly, I can feel the depth of his urgency and the mating instinct riding him. But he acquiesces. I am shocked. We have never been connected—united—like this before. Is it her doing? I don’t question it, I lean into it, not wanting him to take over if I lose myself.
“Darrius, don’t stop . . .” she cries out, riding my hand in graceless jerks.
Now, now, now. I don’t know if the chant is him or me, but I cannot resist the call any longer. I grip her hips and drop to my knees.
“What are you doing?” she gasps, blown-out pupils staring at me.
“Giving you what you need.” My lips curl into a wicked smile as I lift one leg and throw it over my shoulder. I kiss the inside of her knee and position myself right in front of my glistening altar of worship. “Pátnī.”
“I am not—” Gray eyes squeeze shut right as I swipe my tongue from entrance to clit and suck hard. I swirl my tongue and graze my teeth over her pulsing flesh. “Fucking stars, Dare!”
She comes with a strangled shriek, leg tightening and hips bucking into my mouth.
Gods, if her skin tasted sweet, her arousal is like the headiest, richest nectar, drenching my lips and sating my soul. Watching her come undone is like glimpsing a million shooting stars bursting across the heavens. A gift. A fucking marvel.
My cock releases as she writhes beneath my lips, offering me every drop of her pleasure. When her shudders lessen and cease, those brilliant, starlit eyes open and drag me down into their beautiful, dangerous depths.
“Are you mine now?” I ask, blowing on her soaked, tender folds.
“N . . . no.”
I grin madly, incensed and challenged by the rebelliousness in her stubborn stare.
I stand, taking her with me as she squeals, balancing her body on one shoulder and with my right hand.
The scent of her intimate flesh surrounds me, intoxicating me.
Gently, I set her on a nearby armchair and drag her plump ass to the edge, inhaling my new favorite fragrance.
“Darrius, what are you doing?” she squeaks.
I lift a brow as if to say, This again, before sinking to my knees, a position as king that I am unfamiliar with but now completely dedicated to. “You know what I’m doing. Kneeling before my queen. Making her admit whom she belongs to by showing her that I belong to her.”
“I can’t come again,” she says, cheeks burning red as I position each of her legs lewdly over the armrests and admire my handiwork.
I bite her inner thigh in punishment, her smothered whine rolling through me.
Deep inside, the manticore purrs with approval and pride at the boneless, flushed state of our mate.
“You’ll do what you’re told. Now suck,” I growl, sending a blunted pillar of shadow into her shocked, parted mouth, giving her something to occupy that ungovernable tongue. Then I descend to feast.
She is chaos and certain ruin.
But she is mine.