Chapter 25
25
Molly kept herself busy throughout the intervening afternoon, putting away provisions they’d brought with them, including the purchases they’d made at the dressmaker’s the morning of the council meeting. Hanging up her new gowns in the armoire came with an odd feeling.
She stepped back to look at her rather eclectic collection of clothing now stored in the armoire. Different pieces hung alongside one another, like her best serving dress and the embroidered one she’d made and a sumptuous creamy white gown from the dressmaker’s. She enjoyed all the colors and textures and fabrics, and as she looked, Molly realized that, although different, each piece belonged in the armoire. Each gown and bodice and trou had its place and use.
They represented all the facets of her growing life, all the new flavors and dynamics.
Yes, she liked that very much.
Although, there was one piece she hadn’t yet tried on. A special piece she’d whispered to the dressmaker about, so that even sensitive fae ears couldn’t hear. The lilac silk and lace confection she laid carefully on the bed, pulse fluttering to think of finally wearing it for him. She loved all the little buttons down the back and how the hue nearly matched his fae coloring—and soon, he’d get to appreciate it, too.
She breezed through making her dinner, the house and Bellarand keeping her company. The house was a bit too enthusiastic to help cook, sending every pot to boiling too quickly and curdling the sauces, but Molly didn’t mind so much.
Bellarand claimed to be weary from the trip and running with such heavy loads, although Molly thought he looked fine. Still, she spoiled him with carrot ends and turnip slices, grateful for the company.
The earthquake had rattled them worse than the dirt below, and Molly didn’t want to be by herself. She’d heard of the phenomenon, of course, but earthquakes were something that happened in Pyrros, especially when its great fire mountain, the Lupatian Volcano, belched fire. Could the volcano have erupted and caused such a massive stir that they felt it even so far north?
Bellarand thought it possible, and it was the only thing they could think of that made any sense. Even so, they spent dinner debating increasingly more ridiculous reasons for the earthquake—her favorite being his thought that all the worms had come down with severe flatulence.
By the time dusk settled over the tree line, Molly made her excuses and hurried up to her bedchamber. Breathing gone rapid with a warm, flushed excitement, she made quick work of throwing off her day clothes to wiggle into the layers of frothy silk.
It took her longer than she cared to admit to figure out all the buttons and layers, but by the time the full darkness of night settled around the house, all the candles and lamps in the room flickered with soft light and she stood before the floor-length mirror admiring her work.
A thin negligee, airy as gossamer and cinched at her waist, fell in dramatic drapes to the floor. It just barely hid a satiny set of stays that lifted her tits to perfection and nipped her waist nicely. Garters attached the silk and lace stockings to the bottom hem, and Molly wiggled her toes just for the joy of feeling the softness against her skin.
She might never have considered such garments before, not with her spots and pockmarks peeking out between the stockings and stays or beneath the semi-transparent fabric. Yet, twirling in the mirror, she couldn’t help the smile that overcame her. She looked and felt like a cloud, swirling with beauty and elegance. Perfect for seducing a certain fae.
Yes, she liked this part of her new life, very much.
She was grateful not to have been rushed off to bed, even after having discovered what a talented tongue Allarion had, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t achingly ready to finally make love to him.
Her heart leapt into her throat at the sound of three rapping knocks on her door. It swung open, revealing Allarion looming at her threshold. Those purple eyes caught the soft light of the candles, fixing on her silken form.
Molly didn’t imagine how his chest expanded with surprise, and she felt his hungry gaze rake over her from head to stockinged toe.
“Come in,” she murmured.
Allarion stalked into the room like the predator she sometimes saw lurking in his eyes. His stark features gave him a ranginess, shadows catching in the hollows of his cheeks and temples. He crossed to her in just a few steps, coming to tower above her, but he kept his hands folded at his back.
Licking her lips, Molly said, “House, we’d like to be alone tonight. No snooping.”
The shutters rattled in good humor before falling silent.
One of his brows arched, but otherwise he held perfectly still.
“Everything looks all right? All the wards and borders and trees and—and whatnot?” Honestly, another quake could shake them all night and Molly didn’t think she’d care, so long as she got her hands on her handsome fae.
“Everything is in order. The estate is perfectly safe.”
“Good.”
Heart racing, Molly couldn’t seem to catch her breath, not with him looking down at her like that—like every promise he’d ever made was about to come true. Fates, if Molly had told herself when she first arrived here that she’d be aching to take Allarion to bed…well, she might’ve believed it. For all their differences and the way they’d ended up here, she’d always been drawn to him.
Maybe there was something to what he’d said about his goddesses finding perfect matches.
His throat bobbed and his lips parted, but it was a moment before words came, as if he wished not to utter them.
“When I asked to come to you…I wish to hold you as you sleep. I don’t presume more.”
“Well, I do.” Molly closed that last step between them, running her hands up and down his front, feeling the soft glide of his fine tunic spread over the solid muscle of his chest. “I don’t wear something like this for sleeping.”
Both brows arched this time. His arms slid around her, hands unerringly finding their way to rest on the swells of her backside. “Oh? And what do you wear it for?”
Pulling on his tunic, he dutifully lowered his head so she could rise on her toes and deliver a nipping kiss.
“It’s for being fucked senseless by my fae lover,” she whispered against his lips.
A bestial sound ripped from his lips, vibrating his chest under Molly’s hands. She gasped in delight when his arms went tight as vices, crushing her to him. His mouth greedily took hers, lips pressing searing promises into hers.
Molly clutched at his tunic, her world spinning. Her moans of pleasure echoed in his mouth as his hands kneaded her backside, tucking her pelvis firmly to his. She felt the rigid, burning bar of his cock caught between them, and her cunt clenched with an answering throb to feel how he pulsed beneath his trou.
Digging into his tunic, Molly battled the buttons, desperate to feel his skin under her hands. His kisses kept distracting her, at once a bruising punishment for making them both wait so long then nipping and teasing to soothe. When she gasped for a breath, he trailed his lips across her cheek to her jaw and down her neck.
He lingered at her throat, and Molly felt the unmistakable scrape of his fangs along her skin. Her pulse jumped there, and he shuddered in her arms.
She whimpered when he straightened out of her reach, his face gone pained.
“If we make love, I fear…” A great heaving breath rounded his shoulders, and Molly didn’t like seeing him try to make himself smaller, as if he felt he needed to seem less.
“What?” she whispered. “Tell me, my love. I promise, it’s all right.”
His nostrils flared as he searched her gaze. Molly held still, hoping to convey whatever he needed to find there. She was more than a little desperate for him, for the passion of a moment before, but she could reassure him. Whatever troubled him now had been vexing him for a long while. Best to get it out of the way so they could focus on the better things.
“I don’t want to scare you,” he murmured.
Molly bit her cheek to keep in the giggle. “My darling, I’ve seen you being eaten by roots. I promise you won’t scare me.” Surprise, most likely. Maybe even a little alarming. But scared? No, not anymore.
“They weren’t eating me, merely—”
She touched her finger to his lips. “Tell me.”
Gathering her close again, he kissed her fingertip. “Since knowing you, I have wanted…to bite you.”
It was Molly’s turn to arch her brows. “Bite me? Is that all?” Perhaps in those first days, she might’ve found such a declaration terrifying; his fangs weren’t small. She’d be lying if she said she didn’t have a few twitches of trepidation over feeling the pain of it, yet it didn’t seem too much to ask of her. Not now, when she knew exactly who she held in her arms.
Allarion choked. “Isn’t that enough? I’ve never wanted to sink my fangs into another lover before.”
“Well, now I feel special.” She smiled up at him, although she didn’t think her attempt at lightheartedness truly reassured him. Taking his face in her hands, Molly made sure to speak clearly so he understood her when she said, “Allarion, many people enjoy a little roughness with their lovemaking. If you want to bite me, you can.”
The shock was evident in his eyes. “But…to take your blood…”
“It’s all right. I don’t particularly like pain in my bed play, but if you feel you need this…just be gentle—and make it up to me.”
A shuddering breath exploded from him, and Allarion clutched her close, burying his nose in the hollow between neck and shoulder.
“My beautiful, generous mate,” he crooned, “you are too good to me.”
“Mm, that’s probably not true. But you’ve been nothing but good to me. It’s a small thing to ask in return.”
That rumble cascaded through him again, but rather than the explosive cadence of before, it was almost like a purr, seductive and deep. His hands turned from almost clutching to caressing, fingers tracing up and down her curves.
“Oh, sweetling, I promise you, by the time I’m ready, you’ll beg for my bite.”
Molly hummed in interest, glad that the matter seemed settled. She happily eased back into receiving his fervent kisses, although their passion now was more measured, a building up rather than a frenzy.
She couldn’t honestly say the idea of a bite—a true one that broke the skin, not just a love nip—didn’t give her a smidge of trepidation. However, it was worth it. Allarion was worth it.
This had troubled him for weeks now, and if it was the only barrier remaining to their finally enjoying each other fully, well, the answer was simple.
His hands wove magic of their own around her, touching her everywhere he could reach, stoking the flames a little higher with every caress. He deftly spirited them across the room to her large bed without his mouth ever leaving her skin.
When he did lean up, it was to again admire her garments.
“You got this just for me?”
“Just for you,” she agreed, popping the last button of his tunic.
“Have you been planning this? Your seduction?”
“It wasn’t much of a plan other than putting it on, but yes.”
With a finger and thumb, Allarion pulled loose the simple knot keeping the negligee closed. The slippery tie fell around her hips and the translucent robe fell open, revealing the partially transparent fabric beneath. Molly knew her nipples would be just visible through the stays, dark points begging for attention.
His searching fingers found one, tracing a teasing circle around the peak with the barest touch. Molly bit her lip, resisting the urge to press herself into his hand.
“I think these should all come off,” she said, tugging at his open tunic.
A wicked smile curled his lips. “Anything you wish.”
“Oh, I wish very much.”
She stood back a step, doing some admiring of her own. Like in all things, his movements were efficient, economical, graceful, but he somehow managed to make them seductive. It was the way his gaze almost never left hers as his tunic slipped from his shoulders and his undershirt came unlaced. He toed off his boots and stepped out of his trou with the elegance of a dancer, and by the time he stood before her naked, Molly’s mouth had run dry.
He stood before her proudly, letting her look at her leisure. She already knew he was a fine man, every muscle packed tight with strength, but seeing him stand there, his legs spread and stance firm, had her heart fluttering all over again. His ridged abdomen led down to narrow hips with a distinct vee, all pointing to the dark purple cock bobbing against his lower belly. That ball piercing reflected a pinprick of light, and the memories of how it’d felt catching against her tongue arrowed between her thighs.
When she moved to slip off the negligee, Allarion stopped her with a gentle hand.
“Oh, no, sweetling, this should stay on as long as possible.”
He drew her back into him, taking handfuls of the silk and lace. Molly thrilled to feel every inch of naked flesh pressed to her. Having him totally naked while she still stood clothed—albeit scantily—had her hands and mouth growing greedy. She needed to taste and feel and have all of him. Now.
Feeling the lustiness in her touches, Allarion answered in kind, his tongue curling round hers and his hands sliding beneath the negligee to take great handfuls of her backside. His breath hissed against her lips as his cock rubbed against the silkiness of the stays.
Molly delighted in feeling every bit of him she could reach, running her hands from his broad shoulders down his strong, lithe arms. She traced down the furrow of his spine to his taut backside and dipped her fingers in the winging dimples just above it. Gooseflesh bloomed across his flanks as she scored them lightly with her nails.
Allarion groaned her name, pulling back to incite her with his amethyst gaze. That hungry smile teased the corners of his lips as he pulled her toward the bed.
But when Molly expected to climb in or even have him lift her up onto the blankets, Allarion sat himself on the edge and reached for her. Pulling her by the waist, he drew her between his legs, his hands greedily running up and down her curves.
Her only warning was his grin twitching wider, then she was spun around and pulled down into his lap. He neatly gathered the long drapes of the negligee to the side, and Molly gasped to feel the burning length of his cock nestle against the gusset of her underthings.
A pleased rumble teased Molly’s back. She held her breath as he arranged her, drawing her back into his front. He hooked her knees with his, drawing her legs over his and spreading them wide. She moaned as cool air kissed her overheated skin.
Her whole body clenched with need to be so exposed, so opened. He spread her unmercifully wide, almost straining her legs, and she loved it. Reaching an arm behind her, Molly buried her hand in his starlight hair and held on.
Allarion hummed in approval, his hands coming round to claim a breast and delve between her quivering thighs. He made another pleased sound to find how easily the gusset covering her cunt unlaced.
Molly moaned again as his fingers found her slick, needy flesh. He hissed in her ear as he soaked his fingers. His other thumb strummed against her hardened nipple, using the fabric of the stays to create an extra spark of friction.
He held her like that, suspended and exposed, as his fingers worked her higher and higher. She had no real leverage like this, no way to roll her hips or bear down for more of that delicious pressure, and no matter how she whined for it, he wouldn’t be rushed.
Allarion petted and stroked and rubbed, his rhythm unhurried. Molly quickly felt herself melting, coming apart at the seams. She clutched at his head and laid her other hand over the one at her breast, pressing them harder to her.
The unyielding pressure grew low in her belly, a million little sparks of pleasure cascading from her head to her toes. Molly leaned her head onto his shoulder, arching her back and trying again to find a little leverage.
“Give me your eyes, sweetling. I want you to watch.”
With effort, Molly picked her head back up, not understanding what he meant.
He lifted the hand she held, and with a simple crook of his finger, the large gilt-framed mirror across the room slid over the floorboards. It stopped a few feet away, framing their images in gold.
Molly stared at the picture they made, her swollen lips falling open in aroused shock. She felt how wide and exposed he’d pulled her, but seeing herself spread so obscenely—her gaze snapped to movement along her pink core. Her flesh glistened in the candlelight, as did his fingers as they eased through her folds. His fingers spread her wide for their mirror selves, revealing where she wept for him.
His other hand returned to her breast, and she watched his fingers play and strum at her before they dug under the cup to pull her flesh free. She overspilled his hand, his fingers nearly swallowed by the plush give of her.
Molly stared at herself in the mirror, seeing how she’d gone swollen and pliant for him. She almost didn’t recognize the person staring back, lips parted on moans of pleasure and eyes gone half-mast and bleary with desire. Reclined on her fae, swathed in transparent fabric, she looked like some offering to an old god, ready to be sacrificed to their wicked desires.
His talented fingers worked her clitoris in perfect circles, but that wasn’t why Molly gasped. The tease of his magic crept up the insides of her thighs, an invisible weight that rolled like syrup up her skin. Molly shuddered as the magic pushed against her entrance, and she watched as she opened a little more for the unseen force.
His magic filled her up, and Molly couldn’t help it—she arched in his lap, head falling back onto his shoulder.
Magic working her cunt like a cock, fingers playing with clitoris and nipple, Molly couldn’t focus. Sensation crashed through her, a rip tide that pulled her under. She gasped for air but got none, her lungs squeezed tight as her body bowed, the pressure bordering on pain as it pulled tight.
Molly rolled her head to the side, wanting to watch.
She met her gaze in the mirror, and sharper than the crack of a whip, she came.
Allarion nuzzled her shoulder and then—sank his fangs into her neck.
Molly’s blood spilled across Allarion’s tongue, a metallic burst that punched through his senses and slid down his throat in a smooth glide. Bright and visceral, more potent than even magic, it pooled in his center.
It conquered his senses and focus, even as he felt the spend splash from his angry cock, even as Molly’s slick soaked his hand. What had to be his stomach, never used before, clenched around the sweet invasion of her blood, and another orgasm lurched through him to have her taste on his tongue.
He held her in a merciless grip, his instincts needing to hold and claim and keep. She came apart in his arms so prettily, her body bowed to thrust her heavy breasts forward and her pink cunt down. She overspilled his hands, dripping onto the floor to join the pearlescent ropes of his spend.
Allarion lapped at the two punctures he’d made, sealing them before he took too much. He couldn’t quite settle on any one emotion as she went lax in his arms, legs and arms gone boneless and her head falling back onto his shoulder. His own release left him shaking, but still he couldn’t loosen his hold.
Nuzzling at her silky skin, what settled over him then was a bone-deep satisfaction, the craving that had dogged him for so long finally abated. He swallowed down every last drop of her he’d taken, amazed and so, so grateful for the gift he’d been given.
When he was sure she wouldn’t bleed and his legs wouldn’t give out, Allarion stood. Molly slumped neatly into his arms as he turned to place her reverently on the bed.
She looked up at him with soft, sultry eyes, her lips flushed and swollen.
Although he’d just had her blood and his own release, it wasn’t enough. The sight of her there, spread out before him like a feast, only fed his hunger. He’d never forget watching them in the mirror, seeing how Molly came apart watching herself be pleasured. His satisfaction in seeing her witness how well he could please her, how her pleasure was his, was vicious and consuming.
Allarion gently unlaced and unbuttoned her pretty underthings, careful to place them neatly on the trunk at the foot of the bed. He wanted to see her in them many more times but knew he couldn’t be trusted not to rip or soil them.
Molly lay back, docile and well-sated, a little smile playing at her lips. When he finally had her naked, Allarion crawled over her to claim that smile, to taste it for himself.
“Did you get what you needed?” she murmured against his mouth.
He eased himself down over her, settling into the cradle of her body. His breath stuttered to feel how perfectly they fit together, how her body welcomed his. Her thighs drew up to frame his hips, and her arms came round to blanket his shoulders. His back arched in delight when her nails gently scraped his scalp.
“That and more,” he answered, claiming another kiss. “You are the most generous of mates.”
“Maybe, but I’m also a greedy one.”
Beneath him, she rolled her hips, canting them so the underside of his cock slid along her mons.
“Are you now…”
Allarion delved a hand between them, taking hold of his messy cock to glide it up and down the center of her cunt. Molly moaned, her fingernails scratching and scraping along his shoulders. The bite of her nails grew sharper the more he teased, and Allarion considered going until she drew blood. Let her leave her mark on him as he had her.
Goddesses knew, she’d already left her mark on him inside. There wasn’t a single part of him that wasn’t utterly hers, and to wear her red welts as proof gave him a fierce kind of pleasure.
Molly’s heel pressed into the small of his back. “You’re too good at teasing,” she panted. “Come inside me. I want to feel you.”
Rumbling with satisfaction, Allarion notched his cockhead at her weeping entrance. He watched his flesh disappear inside her, her body giving round his. A shudder bowed his spine, and he fell over her, claiming her mouth in a ferocious kiss as he pressed onward, not stopping until he’d found his way home.
Little mewls and whimpers caught in her throat, and Allarion drank them all down. He gave her no quarter, needing this, needing her with a pain that only she could soothe. So many years, so long a life, all leading to this, to her—it was almost too wonderful to believe.
Their hips met, flushed together as he sheathed himself inside her. Those fingers that had nearly clawed him turned gentle, the pads running up and down his back in feathery caresses that left gooseflesh in their wake.
Her cunt clenched around him, a silky hot grip that robbed him of thought and sense. Burying his nose at her throat, kissing the punctures he’d made, Allarion moved.
Molly choked, throwing her head back on the pillows. “Your piercing,” she croaked.
Ah yes. He could feel it dragging along the upper wall of her channel, catching her in just the right places. He’d found them with his fingers, tongue, and magic, so he knew just how he needed to angle his hips so that he grazed that spot with every stroke.
He found a rhythm, hips shuttling against hers in a dance far older than the fae, the forests, and even magic. She gave him all of her so sweetly, her sounds and touches filling him up as surely as his cock filled her. She welcomed him on every thrust, milking and gripping him with every retreat, as if begging him not to go. But he always returned—he always would to her. His home. His queen. His Molly.
She moaned his name, head thrashing on the pillow, her hips rolling to try keeping time with his. Allarion picked himself up on his hands, changing the angle and offering more leverage. His pelvis smacked wetly against hers, their sounds and scent of lovemaking saturating the bedchamber.
Molly’s plush lips drew back in a rictus of pleasure, her hands grasping at his forearms for something to hold onto. His magic wrapped round her thighs and he drew them as wide as they could go, allowing him just that little more.
As his rhythm stuttered into a frenetic frenzy, he watched rapturously as her breasts bounced with their rocking. He pooled his magic on her lower belly, where he could just see the faintest shadows of her muscles clenching around his length. One tendril he sent up her middle to circle round her breasts; it spiraled around the lush mounds before capping her pert nipples, plucking and rolling under the insubstantial weight. The other rippled down her mons, settling around her clitoris. He could just feel its warm touch as he thrust inside.
With his magic working in concert, Allarion let go. He drove his cock deep inside her, wishing to join them forever. Her body took and gave, and a silent scream rent her lips wide as she came apart. Slick gushed around his cock, and Allarion lost his mind.
Drunk on her feel and scent, he was nothing but motion. He ran her down and pinned her with his hips, a brutal orgasm ripping through the fabric of his being. His magic snapped around them, knotting them together in an explosion of sensation.
For a moment, his mind touched hers—a golden light that washed him in warmth.
It was a divine light, the soul of his very own goddess.
Their bond snicked into place as the magic spun around them in whirls of blue and white light. His belly full of blood burned inside him, a heaviness that anchored him to this place, to her. As he filled her up with the last of his spend, Allarion had just enough wherewithal to smile down at her.
Mine, he thought. You’re mine.
And in that golden glow, he heard the echo of her mind, too.
Yours.