Chapter 31 #2
Andrian released a low sound—something between a groan and a growl. “Mariah—”
She surged forward, capturing her name on his lips. Whatever restraint he’d been clinging to snapped, returning everything she gave him with equal fire.
Maybe it wasn’t healthy. Maybe they shouldn’t. In her darkest moments, she would never stop craving these distractions from him. These moments when the world fell away and it was just her and Andrian and nothing else.
She would burn the rest of the world down to keep from losing this.
Mariah gasped as his tongue claimed her mouth, his teeth biting her lip. She bit him back—not enough to break skin, but more than a gentle nip. He groaned again into her, tangling his hand in her hair, pulling against her scalp as his fingers dug into her thigh.
They weren’t close enough.
She broke the kiss, chest heaving, scrambling for the hem of his shirt. He did the same, eyes dark and out of focus. Clothes slid over their bodies, tossed into the corner of the tent. Their lips met again, as hungry and ravenous as ever.
There was no stopping her impulses now, not with his hot skin against hers. She ground herself against his cock, capturing the hiss that slipped past his teeth.
Her breath rushed from her lungs as he gripped her tight and turned. Her back hit the soft furs, legs still wrapped around him, but he never pulled his claiming kiss from her lips. The weight of him over her was so deliciously perfect and familiar and everything she wanted right at this moment.
It wasn’t enough.
Mariah raked her nails down his back. Skimmed them over his side to his stomach, smiling slyly at his groan. Slipped her hand between them, under the waistband of his cotton pants, wrapping her fingers around his hard length.
He broke from her then, chest heaving, lips swollen and dark hair brushing her forehead.
A thrill of delight tore through her when she squeezed her fingers around his cock, pumping him slowly, and the fire in his eyes grew pained.
As always, he met her at every stage. He grabbed her wrist, pulling her free of him and pinning her arm to the furs.
He lowered his mouth to her ear, breath coasting across her cheek. “You know I love the way you play those games, nio. But first, I want to watch you.”
She lifted a brow. “Watch me?”
He nodded, smirking. “Those memories of watching you come undone around your fingers, pretending they were mine, are some of the only ones that kept me sane in that place. I dreamed of the chance to make what was once pretend a reality.”
Heat flooded her face and she knew from the way his smirk widened that her cheeks were filled with that embarrassing shade of pink. His free hand—the one not holding her wrist—brushed her cheek.
“Always with that blush, princess.”
A retort slid up her throat, landing on her tongue. Before it could slip past her lips, he was grabbing her other hand and sliding both her arms above her head, pinning them down in one of his.
Shock spiked through her, brow furrowing. “What—”
He pressed a finger to her lips. “Shh,” he murmured. “I can’t have you interfering. It’s my turn.”
Mariah would’ve been angry, if the way he looked down at her—possessive, hungry, wild—wasn’t so fucking hot.
So, when he lifted his finger from her mouth, her bottom lip fell into a half-hearted pout, but she didn’t argue.
Andrian let out a breathy chuckle. “Good girl, nio.” His finger traced down her cheek, following the column of her throat. “You’re so fucking beautiful when you listen.”
That gods-damned hand moved to her chest, skimming under the swell of her breast. Her skin pebbled and he circled a peaked nipple, grinning at how she shivered and strained beneath him.
He was getting way too much enjoyment out of this.
Then again, so was she.
He continued his path over the plane of her stomach, reaching the waistband of her leathers.
They were comfortable and breathable but suddenly felt like far too much clothing between them.
She struggled, hoping he would understand and let her up to remove them.
Instead, he pressed his hand flat to her stomach, pinning her to the blankets.
He didn’t say anything; he just arched a brow at her, and she fell still. Bastard.
When his hand slipped under her leathers, her anger fell away, forgotten.
He was never one to waste time, and he certainly wasn’t like that now. His long fingers found her center, forehead falling to hers with a groan as he ran them through her wetness.
“I missed you,” he whispered against her temple, and her heart almost stopped.
She met his tanzanite gaze unflinchingly. “I missed you, too. So fucking much.”
Something flashed in those eyes, and when he crashed his lips to hers, he pushed a finger inside.
He worked her skillfully, as if he’d been born to do just this for her, Mariah gasping and writhing beneath him. Fuck, maybe he had. It didn’t matter, though. Not as he pushed another finger in and curled to reach that spot, all while his palm pressed firmly against her clit.
He bit her lip again as he withdrew his fingers, moving to circle that sensitive place between her legs. Her head tossed back, hair fanning around behind her, and he nipped the lobe of her ear.
“Be my dreams, Mariah,” he murmured. “Come for me. Let me have it all.”
Gods, she was already so close. Weeks of pent-up longing swept her away. She chased that feeling higher and higher, letting it arch up around her, colors bursting across her vision.
“Take it, Andrian,” she gasped.
His fingers slowed, still working her up but not as fast. “What?”
She struggled against his grip, winding her fingers through his. “The pain. Take it from me. Take it all.”
Her orgasm washed over her in a wave of splendor, the first true ray of light she’d felt since the day darkness burst from the ground.
Slowly, it faded, her vision dimming as her chest still heaved. She returned to the dim tent, lit only by the oil lamp flickering in the far corner. A soft, contented smile spread across her face.
Until the cold hit her.
She shivered, opening her eyes. Andrian was no longer there. His hands had left her, his body no longer hovering over hers. Instead, he knelt beside her, palms open in his lap, hair in disarray.
But his face…
Pain and utter despair were written across that too handsome, perfect face. Like he’d just been dragged through shards of glass then tossed into the jaws of his worst nightmare.
Mariah sat up, heat emptying from her veins as alarm thrummed through her. “Andrian? Are you okay?”
He lifted his gaze to her, eyes unfocused. “Is this…” He swallowed. “Is this real? Would you tell me?”
Mariah reached for him but drew back when he flinched. “Of course, it’s real,” she said softly. A deep, foreign hurt twisted around her heart. She glanced at the furs, still indented with their bodies, and swallowed again. She picked up her tunic and slipped it back over her head.
“Let’s just get some sleep, okay?” She felt like she was speaking to a wounded child, not a man who’d just held her down and made her come so hard she’d felt her magic stir.
What had happened to him? Where had he gone there at the end? And what had been the trigger?
Even then, she knew. Rage bubbled up inside her, deep and seething and animalistic. And just like her magic had stirred for the first time, the beast buried deep within lazily opened an eye.
What the fuck had Kol done to him?
Andrian nodded to her slowly, and her rage cooled a touch.
Some of the tension dropped from his shoulders, hair falling again into his eyes.
She returned the nod and stood, slipping off her leathers until she was clothed only in the oversized tunic she preferred to wear to sleep.
She settled back onto the bedroll, tentatively patting the space beside her.
Slowly, Andrian unfurled himself, stretching out beside her. He seemed so hesitant to touch her, but after a moment his arms wrapped around her, pulling her into him as his face burrowed into her neck.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m sorry. I can’t…” He squeezed her tighter, as if afraid she would disappear from his grasp.
Mariah didn’t ask what he meant.