Chapter 23
ALARYK
Staring down at the mess I’d made between Amaia’s thighs, I didn’t bother to lace up my trews.
My cock was still pulsing with the aftershocks of my orgasm, the pleasure of which was so intense it had nearly bordered on pain.
I could feel her eyes on me. Had I expected her to shy away? No, I didn’t think so. But the steadiness of her gaze surprised me.
Her taste was still on my tongue, my mouth watering for more as the remnants of our magic drifted in the air between us like a thick fog, heady and dizzying.
She’d nearly bonded our magic.
I’d felt her…sinking into me.
For a moment, I’d been tempted. It had felt too good. The reckless part of me wanted to see what would become of a bond like that. The selfish part of me knew that if I allowed it, she’d never go back to Dakkar again.
I wouldn’t allow it. Some semblance of reason had cut through the cloying haze of lust and power. But now…I knew what could be. And I craved it.
“It wasn’t meant to happen like this,” I found myself saying. My voice was thick, husky from my groans, from the soul-wrenching bellow I’d unleashed when I’d spent myself between her thighs.
“But you believed it would happen?” Amaia’s voice was husky too. Soft. Though, fortunately, not laced in the desperate anger I’d meant to guide her away from.
I ran a hand down my jawline. I had been exhausted before I’d stepped foot in my dwelling.
A representative from Elysom—Gevanth—had flown through the night, had landed in Grymia shortly after the gathering had finally dispersed.
The arguments with Gevanth and my own riding council had been… extensive.
“After Ny’am…” I said, “I thought it likely.”
I’d wanted her then. Fiercely. And I knew myself well enough to know that when I coveted something, I usually did everything in my power to get it.
That ambition served me well as a Karath. In other ways…it made me high-handed and arrogant.
She was still naked, sprawled out on the table, but she’d come up onto her elbows, her lush breasts tipped up toward me. My cock stirred, her eyes flickering down to it.
“We should clean up,” I said, tipping my chin toward the washroom at the back of the dwelling, hidden from view by the curtain. “And we need to talk.”
Perhaps my intent of fucking the anger out of her had worked because she wordlessly rose from the table, her legs a little shaky. I steadied her, my palm grazing her hip, and led her to the washroom.
The tension was palpable as I filled the sunken bathing tub, larger than my bed, with a set of stairs leading down into it. Amaia watched the water rise wordlessly, the steam beginning to brush against her flesh, as I—finally—undressed.
I couldn’t help but notice that my come was dripping down the inside of her thigh. How much restraint it had taken not to spend my seed deep inside her…
“Ignore it,” I commanded when Amaia’s gaze cut to my hardening cock.
“That would be hard to do,” came her flippant reply with a raised brow.
I huffed out a sharp breath. “Get in—the water’s high enough.”
“Can you speak without it sounding like an order?” she shot back, but unlike earlier, there was no bite in her tone.
Fair enough. I unclenched my jaw. “Will you please get in the water? It’s high enough.”
Amaia shook her head, but when she stepped down into the bath, I watched her breasts bounce, making me blow out a sharp breath. I wanted her again. But this time, I wanted to take my time. I wanted to savor. I wanted to torment her a little more, to see what fire I could unleash.
The small pendant that hung around her neck gleamed as she settled down onto the ledge opposite where I stood. She looked up at me. Her hair was a wild tangle, her lips red from my punishing kiss, her nipples puckered from my sucking.
I was fully hard again, the need I thought might’ve been satisfied roaring back in merciless force.
“You desire me,” she said softly, her eyes rapt on my cock.
I cut her a withering look as I followed after her. “What was your first clue?”
I surprised her by coming close, by pressing her back into the edge of the pool, standing between her thighs where she sat on the sunken ledge. My arms caged her in, one hand landing on the stone behind her and the other drifting beneath the water.
She went a little breathless when she asked, “Is it me or my magic you desire?”
My fingers grazed over her pelvis, sinking down, making her breath hitch when I caressed her sensitive flesh.
“I can’t exactly fuck your magic, now can I?” I rasped. “But I might do a lot of uncharacteristic things for another taste of this…”
Her hand gripped my wrist when my fingers parted her folds, when I teased the small bud of her clit. Her cheeks were flushed, and in her eyes, I saw…curiosity. Mingled with wariness.
I drew my hand away but stayed where I was. Her eyes dragged down my chest—to the piercings through my nipples, to my tensed abdomen, to my cock head bobbing at the surface of the rising water.
When her eyes returned to mine, that curiosity had only grown.
“I suppose you do like variety,” she murmured.
For a moment, I had no idea what she was talking about. Then I remembered. Her odd comment about my “harem” in Grymia and my responding flippant words.
“For the last damn time,” I murmured, my tone slightly exasperated, “I don’t have a harem of lovers just waiting at my beck and call.”
Amaia lifted a shoulder, as if the words didn’t have any effect on her. But I saw right through it. “If you say so.”
My gaze dipped to her lips, full enough that they looked perpetually in a pout.
“Now that we’re both calmer,” I started, guiding the conversation away from any mentions of lovers, “we can talk.”
Her expression sobered, and she pressed a hand to my chest, right in the center between my pectorals. I thought it was because she was about to push me away, but then her expression flickered and she kept it there, feeling my heat radiate into her palm. The steadiness of my heartbeat.
“It’s still…agitated,” she finally said, settling on that word. “I…I’m sorry about earlier. My emotions felt so heightened, so volatile. It feels like it’s feeding on them and it’s hungry. What if it never stops?”
I cupped her face, rubbing my thumb along the top of her cheekbone, and her breath hitched.
Her eyelids fluttered closed, a shuddered sigh falling from her lips as she gave in, accepting the warmth of my touch, my only intent to bring her a sense of comfort.
I could feel her magic still sparking, little zaps across my flesh, and I sent a small river of my own to help soothe it.
“Better?” I asked.
“Yes,” she murmured, her shoulders sagging. When her eyes opened, her pupils were dilated. “Thank you.”
“It’s not uncommon, what you felt,” I told her.
“Karag who exhibit heartstone magic are placed with tutors from a young age, regardless of class or status in the territories. To help control it. I’m honestly shocked you haven’t felt it uncontrolled before now.
Which means you do have some restraint over it. ”
She absorbed my words like she was a sponge. “You speak about it like it’s a separate entity. Like it’s different from me.”
“In many ways, it is. Depends on the individual, I suppose,” I replied.
“And each individual learns to control their magic in different ways, using different methods. You said you envision a doorway, that you imagine walking through it or crossing some invisible threshold. That’s a technique some tutors utilize, or so I’ve heard.
Like manifestation. You learned to do it yourself, which is impressive. ”
“You had a tutor to help you?” she asked.
My lips lifted in a wry smile. “Not quite.”
But I didn’t offer up anything else, not wanting to delve into my history with Kamora right then. I’d learned much from her…but at what cost?
“My instruction was…different, as yours will likely be with me,” I finished.
Sex would complicate matters, as it always did. But I didn’t think I had the strength and discipline to stay away now that I’d been offered a taste.
There was the danger of a bond, to add to that. Amaia hadn’t known what she’d been doing, had only done what had probably felt good at the time. But even I had recognized how perilously close we’d come to bonding our magic.
Kamora was the only other female with heartstone magic I’d had sex with…but she’d used hers as a weapon against me during it. Amaia had used it like an embrace, one I wanted to sink into and never leave. That was even more dangerous, in my opinion. There had never been a bonding risk with Kamora.
“Still, I’m not surprised if there are unfortunate flare-ups of your magic, especially given the events of late,” I finished, steering back to a more unpleasant conversation. “You were angry with me. I was angry with you. Let’s start there.”
Her jaw tightened, but she took a steadying breath as she shifted on the stone ledge.
“Can I have some soap, please?” she asked pointedly, making my lips quirk.
“Certainly,” I said, releasing her cheek, sensing her small flinch when I had to retreat before wading to the opposite end of the bathing pool, where I kept a small jar of lathering granules. I poured some out into her palm when I returned, taking a seat on the ledge when she stood.
Crossing my arms over my chest, I watched as she scrubbed herself clean, erasing all evidence that I’d left on her skin…or between her legs. The heat of the water started to loosen my muscles and I felt more relaxed than I had all week.
“Don’t lock me away again,” she finally said, the words calm and even, so unlike the spitting fury I’d spied in her eyes when her temper had been bright and hot. “If you need me to stay out of sight, fine. But keeping me confined…I won’t allow it again.”
“I wanted you safe,” I replied. “I didn’t think I’d be gone as long as I was. But someone from Elysom arrived today, and we’ve been in talks ever since.”