50. Chapter Forty-Eight
Chapter Forty-Eight
Iwoke to the steady thrum of a heartbeat beneath my cheek, the rise and fall of a male chest pulling me back under like the tide.
For one disoriented breath I thought I was still dreaming until his hand moved, painfully slow, dragging lazy circles down my bare spine. Panic shot through me.
I bolted upright, the chill of night clinging to my skin. “Gods, what did you do? You abducted me from my chambers! Branwyn, Mairenn, they’ll know I’m gone—”
“Shh.” His voice rolled low, vibrating beneath me as his arms snaked up, catching me before I could wrench away. He dragged me back down, pinning me flat against the mattress. His weight caged me in, emerald eyes gleaming in the dark. “Relax, Aurenya.”
My pulse thundered. “Where are they? Scáthae, Goibniu. They were supposed to be here…”
“They’re gone.” His brow arched in the shadows. “Out tending to their godly duties. Whatever in the realms those are. You worry too much.”
“Ugh, you arrogant—”
“Careful now.” His mouth brushed my ear, breath hot. “Tone back your attitude…before I’m tempted to do something about it.”
I stilled, chest heaving against his.
Then I felt it.
The press beneath his trousers, alive, undeniable. Heat burned up my throat, pooling low, right where his words had already left me aching.
My gaze dropped, mortified. His grin widened like he’d been waiting for me to notice.
His thigh slid between mine, pinning, parting, and the heat spiked between us.
“You…” My throat was scraped dry. “The books say…that men, that gods—”
“Oh?” His voice purred, amused and dangerous. A very annoying combination when it came to Tairngire. He dipped his head, teeth grazing my jaw. “Tell me. What do your precious books say?”
I shifted, desperate to escape the fire licking through my veins. “They say you—”
“That I what?” His chuckle rumbled low, dark heat against my skin. “That I take? Claim? Bury myself so deep you forget every vow you ever swore?”
Humiliation cracked under fury. His earlier words echoed: shame has no place between us, not anymore.
“You. Are. The. Worst.”
“And you,” he drawled, mouth brushing mine, “are full of questions you’re too afraid to ask.” His hips pressed into me, steady and dominating. “You think I’d sate myself before you learned how to endure it?”
I swallowed. “You’ve only ever—”
“My pleasure comes later,” he cut in, voice gone wicked. “For now, yours is mine to take. Again.” One hand caught my wrists above my head, pinning me down. “Do you want to know how gods break mortals open, or will you still cling to your temple books and chains?”
His grip tightened, both reminder and promise wrapped up into one forbidden coil.
“You’ve read the warnings,” he rasped, barely restrained. “How long a god can make a mortal ache?”
“No.”
He hummed, and my thighs clenched.
“Do they say how long before she begs for what she swore she’d never ask for?” His lips grazed my cheek. “How she feels when her body opens?”
Heat flared hot under my skin. “They say it’s dangerous. Mortals burn under gods.”
“And you believe them?” His eyes seared into mine, hungry and searching. His breath shivered over my lips. “Or is danger half the point?”
“Why ask me this?”
“Because I want your truths,” he whispered, lethal. “Do you lie awake imagining what I’d feel like inside you? Do you crave knowing what happens when I stop playing at restraint. When I finally take what’s mine?”
My thighs clenched tighter.
He chuckled. “That,” he growled softly, “is what I want to know.” His mouth hovered over mine, our bond pulsing with our shared desire.
“I’ve had enough.” My voice was steady this time, fire climbing higher. “You’re wrong. I’m not the only one curious. You ask questions you already know the answers to, but you won’t admit the truth that lies between us.”
His brows lifted. “And what truth is that, my insatiable Little Seer?”
“That you ache as much as I do.” My pulse thundered, but I tipped my chin, refusing to back down. “You want me to say it first, so I will. You don’t hold all the power here.”
A dangerous rumble in his chest. “Is that so?”
I slid my hand down his arm, watching his pupils darken. Owning my confidence, a coy smile playing on my lips. “You’ve taken my pleasure into your hands twice and denied yourself both times. Tell me, Forest God…do you burn, knowing you’ve only given to me, never taken?”
Breath hissed through his teeth as he caught my wrist again and squeezed, heat sparking wild between us. “You’re playing a very, very dangerous game.”
“I thought we’ve already established that danger is half the point.”
His restraint snapped. He shoved both my wrists back into the mattress, caging me beneath his weight. The world narrowed to breath and pulse.
“Then say it,” he rasped, mouth dragging against mine. “What is it that you want from me?”
Silence held, then shattered. Gods damn it all to the Karthmor, I didn’t care anymore. “I want you to take me.”
His eyes flared—shock, desire, and something unrestrained. “Say that again.”
“I want you to take me.” I didn’t blink. “Now.”
He stilled, a pause lingering between us. Then he uttered the one word I never wanted to hear after the most vulnerable moment of my entire existence.
“No.”
I was shocked at his answer, but I wouldn’t show it.
My vow was iron. My mind was set. I remembered his words: you’ve always had choices, you just regret the ones you make.
Well, I was done with that now. The fate of the realms loomed above our heads, my death could be imminent, and I wanted to feel it.
Everything, with him. He was obviously only rejecting me because he thought that this would be yet another regret on my list for breaking a rule under the eyes of the Old Gods.
“Yes. I won’t regret it.”
His control sharpened, no longer absent—but aimed. “You will. And I cannot accept it.”
I froze. His denial had now officially placed my psyche in humiliating territory. I was defeated and deflated. I tried to wrench myself from his grip, but he only grasped tighter.
Why would he ever think I would regret giving myself to him?
He had shattered every wall I’d put in place, given me everything I’d ever wanted and held me through my rage, never allowing me to burn myself in my own flames.
I wanted this, and I wanted it with him.
How dare he pretend to know how I was feeling?
“Your pleasure is mine to take.” he sighed, his perfect restraint locked in place as he repeated the words he spoke earlier.
“Out of every goddess in all the realms…I want only you, your alter is the only one I wish to worship at. I desire nothing more than to sheathe myself so deep inside of you that you forget your own name. If you don’t believe anything else, believe that.
” He said between clenched teeth, his eyes boring into mine, unrestrained and full of aching need.
I saw my own desire reflected there, a perfect mirror.
So, what was this? Another one of his games?
Did he expect me to beg? Because at that point, I probably would.
“But I can’t make love to you. Not now. Not like this.”
I let out a frustrated sound, akin to a growl.
It only seemed to amuse him further. When would I be ready for him?
Was my innocence a turn-off? I was so tired of everyone else deciding things for me.
Tairngire. The temple, Branwyn and her sisterly protection, making assumptions about my needs and wants without ever truly asking me what I desired.
I scoffed. “Yet you’re going to deny me? I’m offering you all of me…everything, and you’re not going to take it?”
“You think I’m denying you,” he murmured, tracing his finger along my slit, slick with my desire, before pulling his hand away completely, leaving me wanting.
He sighed as though I was the one inconveniencing him with my unabashed wantonness.
“But I’m really denying myself. I am entirely undeserving of you. You’ll realize that. Soon enough.”
Well, that wasn’t what I’d expected to hear from him.
His self-deprecating words raised alarms, but I couldn’t process them when I was melting in his hands.
My body betrayed me as usual, arching instinctively toward the very touch that he denied, it was my last-ditch effort at seducing him.
I didn’t know how to get him to give me what I wanted, and it was positively infuriating.
I was no seductress. No goddess primed for sex.
He wouldn’t take his pleasure, but continued to give me mine?
It just didn’t make any sense. But then again, my enigmatic god never did.
It was part of his allure, to my every detriment.
“Needy little thing,” he clucked his tongue, his fingers teasing my clit with the slickness he’d dragged up from my center. He hummed, a quiet sound, something between approval and careful restraint.
“So wet for me. You truly have no idea how hard it is to practice restraint when you’re practically liquid in my hands.” He let out a low groan that went straight to my core. “Please just let this go and allow me to take care of this mess you’ve made for me.”
As appealing as that sounded, I glared at him instead.
The audacity of this god would be the end of me, teasing me with his words and denying me his body.
I was a hot concoction of desire and shame, melting at his every word and touch.
Wasn’t it him who had just told me that shame has no place between us?
Yet he had me drowning in it.