Chapter 53 The Poisoner
THE POISONER
My body quaked from the dampness of my clothes, despite sitting in front of the small fireplace in our room.
I inspected the ring. It was an outdated kind of soul, by a few hundred years at least, one with an entire life of experience.
Inside, there was the smallest of inscriptions.
Ad infinitum—etiam post mortem
Silas poked at the fire, adding more wood. When he finished, he sat down on the floor by my side. There was a certain nostalgia overwhelming me. He and I in front of a fire, sitting on a pelt rug.
“What do you think?” Silas spoke.
“About what?”
“The corrupted. Do you suspect any other places?”
“I don’t want to think about it. All I know is we are back where we started. No answers.” I rested my chest against my knees as humble fire danced before me, not nearly as warm as the bonfire.
He pinched at my coat, peeling it off my shoulders. “We don’t need to think about it, then.”
“I’m sorry, you know,” I whispered.
He studied me, unsure if he heard correctly. “For what?”
“For what I said.”
“You talk a lot; you’ll have to be more specific.”
“You know what I mean.” I glared at him before looking at the fire. “Back at your Nest, the one in London.”
“I deserved it.”
“You didn’t, though,” I snapped. “It was unnecessarily cruel. I didn’t want you to look for me after.”
“Come here.” He pulled me into his chest and squeezed tightly. “There is not a single thing you could say that would make me abandon you.”
“I wish I could say you were on my mind, but I didn’t expect you to come,” I whispered, pinching the fabric of his shirt and studying the threads. “It seems that I forgot. Out of sight, out of mind.”
“Then maybe it is time we jog your memory.” Silas raised my chin, our noses nearly touching. He froze, watching me through lowered lashes as if to get one last look before kissing me.
“Tell me you would never betray me.” I smoothed my hands up his chest and over his shoulders, my fingers tangling in his hair.
“Why would I—”
“Say it.” I balled my fist in his hair. “I need to hear it from you.”
“I would never in my wildest dreams think to turn my back on something as deadly as you.” He ran his thumb over my bottom lip. “To betray you would mean a life without you, which would be no life at all.”
I clung to his damp shirt, and he cupped my face in his hands.
The gentle touch nearly made me whimper.
He brought one of his hands over mine, guiding it up around his neck.
My only problem was that my hands couldn’t stay still, following the hems of his finely tailored clothes, and his exploring mine.
Our hands played an elusive game of chase as they swept around our bodies, further tangling us in our pursuit of comfort, of pleasure.
“Silas—”
“Kiss me, Alina,” he breathed. “Kiss me, hit me, curse my name until you forget what I’ve done to you.”
His hands grabbed my hips roughly, and I bit down on his lip playfully, though I tasted a familiar tinge of blood. He deepened our kiss, running his tongue over mine as if afraid I would poison myself again.
I loved how desperate it was, the eagerness. His grip was possessive, as if afraid I would slip away as I’ve done many times before, but this time he wouldn’t allow it. He was determined to mark me, claim me for himself.
He forced me backward, pinning me to the fur of the rug as he kissed my neck, trembling as he pinned my arms above my head.
“Let go,” I breathed.
“Why? So you can slip away from me?” he teased.
“I want to hold you.”
He admittedly looked a bit thrown off. He let go of my hands, sliding his hands down my arms and to my waist as he lowered his head between my breasts, kissing lightly down my sternum, his eyes focused on me.
The fire reflected from the back of his eyes, a gentle red glow.
He removed my blouse, then my skirt.
I raked my fingers through the golden strands as he teased my skin, venturing lower. My thighs clenched when he reached them, and he left delicate kisses along the hem of my stockings.
I propped myself up on my elbows, slowly undoing the front of my corset.
Silas tugged his shirt over his head and tossed it away, not wanting to miss a single thing I did.
I popped each latch of my corset slowly, even slower as it opened up.
He yanked my legs forward, making me fall onto my back, and he opened the corset fully, exposing myself to him.
“Impatient,” I huffed, lifting my foot to poke him in the chest.
He caught my ankle, stretching my leg up so he could kiss down the side of my calf, then to my thigh, then lowered himself between my legs.
He slid his tongue out and teased gently at my clitoris before sucking gently, continuing to push on it with his tongue.
I moaned and covered my face with my arms to hide my embarrassment.
Then, he stopped.
I frowned and glared down at him.
“If you hide your face, I won’t continue.”
“Why,” I huffed.
“Because I want to see you, is that so terrible?” He smirked.
I rolled my eyes as I leaned up on my elbows.
“I love that your face reserves a very specific shade of blush, just for me,” he teased, returning his face down between my thighs.
He teased and licked between my legs, probing my vulva with his tongue, begging to slip inside.
I bit my lip, unsure where to look.
He slipped his tongue in, watching my reaction closely.
I held back a moan, but his response was to stretch his tongue deeper, curling it inside and putting pressure against the walls.
“Silas,” I moaned, moving my hips in time to his rhythm.
He groaned against my skin, his hand gripping my thigh a little tighter as he worked harder to get the same sounds out of me.
My breath hitched, and my hand combed through his hair, pressing my hips up against his mouth.
He suddenly pulled away from between my legs, sitting up. He jerked me up by my arms, so I was straddling his lap as he sat back on his heels.
I smirked and dragged my nails over his chest. I reached lower to his trousers. I unbuttoned them and pulled out his already stiff cock. I rolled my hips in his lap, stroking up and down his length as I kissed his neck.
“I want you, Silas,” I whispered to him. “I want to make up for lost time.”
He sloped his head back as my lips left hot trails across his skin, his hands firm on my waist as I worked.
“I can’t wait anymore,” he breathed, lifting my hips above the tip of his member.
I cupped his face, making him look at me as I lowered myself steadily onto his length. It was hard not to let my eyes roll back at the feeling, and I ended up closing my eyes.
One of his hands snared my face, enticing me with a rough, hungry kiss.
I sat fully in his lap, his cock hitting my cervix as I attempted to adjust.
“Please . . . ” I whimpered in between our kisses, moving my hips on his lap.
“I can’t hear you,” he whispered, biting my bottom lip, “you have to speak up.”
“Silas.” His name was shaky, hesitant to leave my tongue.
He forced my hips down on him roughly, making our pace slightly quicker with more vigor.
“Silas!” I cried, wrapping my arms around his neck and digging my nails into his back, dragging them along the hot skin.
“That’s right. You’re only allowed to cry my name like that.” He chuckled, wrapping his arms around my waist as he buried himself so deep that I was starting to believe I would bruise.
He suddenly took his cock out and turned me onto my hands and knees.
“What—”
He grabbed my biceps and helped me up on my knees, then used my arms to pull me onto his length, jolting me forward with each thrust.
I cried out and clenched my fists, throwing my head back as he forced his length deep, his muscular thighs slapping against mine as he buried deeper.
“Ah, look at you. You really are quite a spectacle,” he chuckled, his rhythm rough, possessive.
When I looked over, I saw what he meant.
The mirror in the corner showed both of our bodies bathed in the firelight, our skin glistening as we moved.
I could see the red in my face rising, and I could no longer hold my doppleg?nger’s gaze.
“Ah-ah! What did I say about hiding your face?” He laughed, letting go of my arms to grab a fistful of hair, pinning my face to the ground as he towered over me.
I had no choice but to look, and it made that knot in my abdomen tighten, practically vibrating with excitement.
He thrust slower, making every move purposeful.
In the mirror, I watched the veins in his arm pulse as he gripped my hair, the muscles in his hips and thighs twitching every time he shoved himself inside. His free hand smoothed along my waist.
“What a beautiful animal, trapped between my claws.” He leaned forward to my ear, jolting every time he buried his length to the hilt inside me. Now my insides, as well as my outsides, were shivering.
“Look how divine you look under me,” he whispered, our reflection staring back at us, like they were watching the show. “You would look even better with my teeth in your neck and my seed dripping down your thigh.”
The words edged a whimper from me, my hands clenched in the fur of the rug.
He nipped at my ear before kissing down my neck, sucking tenderly at the skin before his fangs brushed against it. He bit down, then lapped at the wound. He bit my shoulder, then lapped at the wound again. He repeated this a few times in the places he could reach.
“Why aren’t you feeding?” I breathed.
“Because I’m marking what is mine.” His voice held a harmonic clicking that was almost eerie, barely holding back. “It is long overdue.”
He then held me up so that we were kneeling, my back flush against his chest. I could see my full reflection in the mirror, the way he placed his hand on my womb and one on my chest to hold me against him as he thrust up into me.
I moaned and rested my head on his shoulder, looking up at him with glassy eyes. That was the last straw.
Silas kissed me roughly over my shoulder, pressing firmly inside as he finished, the fine piercing of the spines hooked into me and the euphoria blooming within.
His grip on me was so tight as he kissed me, I could feel everything.
Every throb of his girth, the heat of his skin, his seed dripping down my thighs as they trembled.
Nothing could compare to the way he held me. I feared he would never let go.
A pathetic noise eased from my throat, and I clenched my eyes shut and waited for the pain to subside.
He buried his face in my hair, his hands softening and smoothing down the hot skin. “You’re doing so well, my dearest demise,” he chuckled. “It’ll be over soon.” He left kisses along every inch of skin he could.
We never slept that night, not even a wink, if it meant we lost sight of one another.