Chapter 40 Lore
FORTY
Lore
MY MATE GROWLED as I writhed beneath him again.
And I couldn’t help but tease him more.
“Is that the sound of your inner romantic clawing its way to the surface again?”
“Lore.”
His tone had no bite. He was still hard as granite inside me, and I loved the overwhelming sense of power coursing through me at the slightly desperate edge in his voice. Knowing he was falling apart just as quickly as I was.
That this male, this cold, unforgiving god among sinners, was so lost to us.
I could not believe this was truly life now.
It was far better than any story, and I wouldn’t change one twisted thing.
I had a fated mate who put all my favorite dark romance characters to shame in the bedroom. I had a true partner who stood by my side throughout each of my nightmares, weathering the storm with me.
Encouraging me, propping me up, but never doubting my strength, even when it was different from his.
He didn’t care that I had once been a villain. He loved me. The good, the bad, the slightly unhinged old god, all my imperfections were perfect for him.
Once our mating bond was sated, once I could think beyond how much I wanted to experience that level of euphoria again, I couldn’t wait to see my family.
Those thoughts had to wait, though. Books got one thing correct: the mating bond was a horny deviant. I could not get enough of Cassiel.
Gods. His true name had me panting on its own.
I rolled my hips a little, loving the hiss of breath he released. He might be on top for now, but that didn’t mean he was in charge.
He raised an imperious brow. Apparently, the mating bond gave him access to my thoughts. Well, he was in for quite a show.
“It’s okay to admit I’m in control, Cassiel.”
“Are you?” He pulled out slowly, then slid in, his strokes smooth and long. And utterly too good for my self-control.
“Mm-hmm.”
I inhaled deeply and tried to think of anything but how close I already was.
“Come for me, Lore. I know you’re close.”
I bit down on a moan, refusing to give him the satisfaction.
“Suit yourself, my sweet, devious mate. I’ll make you shatter.”
His hands gripped my thighs, spreading me wider, dragging my hips flush against his in a rhythm that should’ve broken me, but I refused to go over the edge.
Not yet.
“Tell me again.” His voice was rough with need, his normal ironclad control hanging by a thread. “Tell me who you belong to.”
I laughed, breathless, a little wicked. Looked like Dark Lore would always be there a little. But only in the fun ways. I couldn’t be more thrilled.
“Do you always get this needy when you think you’re winning? You have to do more than that to make your mate come, Cassiel.”
His hips slammed forward. I gasped, biting my lip hard enough to bruise.
He groaned with the next punishing thrusts.
“Careful.” I dragged my nails down his back. “If you keep making those sounds, I might start thinking you’re the one who belongs to me.”
His pace stuttered, and I smiled. It was time he unraveled for me.
“You’re playing a dangerous game, Peaches.”
“Good.” I slammed my hips up to meet him, thrust for thrust. “I came here to play, not talk.”
His hand slid to my throat, not choking, just holding, just claiming.
Like he had before, and I’d nearly lost my mind. I’d always wondered if it was as much of a turn-on in real life as it was in my favorite novels.
It was even better.
His control, his power, it was all still there, tightly leashed. But so was mine.
And we both knew it.
I rose to meet him, slow and deliberate this time, taking the pace down, my breath grazing his skin. My lips brushed the stubble along his jaw.
“You want me to say it again?” I whispered. “Then make me. Make me forget every name but yours.”
His eyes changed. Darkened. Turned feral.
And then he did exactly as I’d demanded.
His mouth crashed into mine, not a kiss, a claim. His tongue surged past my lips, demanding, devouring, like he meant to brand me from the inside out.
His hand fisted in my hair, pulling just enough to tilt my head back, exposing my throat as he dragged his lips and teeth along it.
The other hand slid down, rough and purposeful, slipping between us. His fingers found my clit and pressed hard. No warning. No mercy.
His cock was still working me and now with his fingers I could no longer hold off.
I gasped into his mouth, hips jolting against his palm, but he didn’t let me retreat. He chased every sound, swallowed every short breath like they all belonged to him. And right now, they did.
As his fingers played with me and he drove himself harder and faster into me, I couldn’t remember my own name, let alone anyone else’s.
Only his. Only this.
And when I finally cried out his name, it wasn’t in surrender.
It was victory.
My mate. My beautiful, ruthless mate grinned down at me. The challenge that sparked in the depths of his cool gaze made my toes curl with anticipation.
I might have won this round, but the battle to see who could make the other shatter faster was only just beginning.
Much like our love story.