Chapter 18
Crash into me
JUDE
Pain claws at the edges of my mind, a dull, ceaseless throb in the back of my skull. My body feels heavy, weighed down by the ache of healing, or the lack of it. The air tastes of iron and sourness, a lingering reminder of too many battles fought and far too few won.
Voices filter through the fog, sharp, angry, but distant. At first, I think I’m dreaming, living some nightmare born of exhaustion and desperation. But no, the murmurs swell, snapping into focus, loud and jagged, like shards of glass cutting into my thoughts.
“Touch him again,” a low growl cuts through the din, freezing everything else. “I dare you.”
The voice is unmistakable.
Lorien.
I force my eyes open, wincing as light stabs through the haze. The room swims into view, blurring and sharpening in turns. Lorien stands at the center, dark and terrible, his presence filling every corner of the room like a storm. His hair is wild, his chest heaving with barely restrained fury.
And then there’s the dried blood.
It streaks his hands, smears across his cheekbone, and pools on the floor near his feet. The attendants, my so-called caretakers, are cowering, pressed against the walls like insects caught in a web. One man is clutching his arm, his face pale as he stammers incoherent apologies.
“Why isn’t he better?” Lorien’s voice is silk laced with venom. He steps forward, his movements slow, deliberate. A predator stalking his prey. “You said he’d wake hours ago.”
“Lorien…”
My voice is barely above a whisper, but it still draws his attention. His head snaps towards me, and for a moment, the rage falters.
“Leave them all alone before you hurt someone.”
“Jude.”
He’s at my side in an instant, the anger melting into something that hurts just to look at. His fingers ghost over my face, careful not to touch my face.
“I told them—” He stops, swallowing hard. “They didn’t listen.”
“I’m fine,” I manage, lying.
I’m not, and Lorien knows it. His jaw clenches, a muscle ticking beneath the surface.
“Out,” he snaps, not looking away from me.
The attendants hesitate, exchanging nervous glances. One of them stares at my stomach and I look down, noticing the bandage tied around my core. I assume it covers the wound that probably should have killed me, and Lorien gently splays his fingers over it.
“Now.” His voice drops lower, colder, and they scatter like leaves in a gale, the door slamming shut behind them.
The silence they leave is thick and oppressive. Lorien sinks onto the bed, his shoulders tense, his hands still trembling. All the things left unsaid hang between us, making our chests tight and Lorien clenches his jaw like he’s holding back a thought that’ll tear him apart.
His focus doesn’t leave my face, as if he’s waiting for me to break, waiting for some sign that I’m truly here. That I’m not going to slip away from him forever.
“You don’t have to be an asshole,” I say, nodding toward the door. “They’re just helping.”
There’s a fierceness in his stare, a possessiveness that sends a shiver down my spine. He’s always been intense, but this… this is something else entirely. This could destroy continents, consume countries, and Lorien’s containing the emotion tearing through him for me.
Because I need a little time.
I reach up, my fingers brushing against his skin. He flinches, just barely, before leaning into the touch.
“Jude,” he murmurs, my name a broken prayer on his lips.
And then he kisses me.
It’s not soft or tentative. It’s a claim, a vow, and a punishment all at once. His hands tangle in my hair, careful but insistent, as if he’s afraid I’ll slip through his fingers. I can taste the copper tang of blood on his lips, can feel the desperation in every movement.
I should rest. I shouldn’t be contemplating more.
But I can’t and I am, and I want more.
His weight presses against me, grounding me, pulling me back from the edge of whatever abyss I’ve been teetering on. His hands skim over my body, avoiding the worst of my injuries, but every touch ignites something in me—something I thought I’d lost.
“Mine,” he breathes against my skin, a promise and a warning.
“Yours,” I whisper back, saying the only truth that matters.
Lorien rests his forehead against mine. “The healers assure me it’s mended. Does it hurt?”
I shake my head, ignoring the dull ache that lingers at the base of my skull.
His fingers press into my stomach and there’s no pain.
I can’t help the breath I take in, relief flooding my chest over his gentleness, over his respect.
But it’s not just the physical relief; there’s something else in the air between us, something fragile but strong, like a promise that we’ll make it through whatever comes next.
“Will it scar?” I ask.
Lorien shakes his head. “Shall we check?”
His tone is playful, but it isn’t enough to ease my anxiety. I’ve never been vain, but maybe Lorien might change. I’m so dependent on him and this could be a heavy truth I’m not ready to hear. My hands shake as I pull them away, not wanting him to see how fragile I am.
I’m not used to needing anyone.
I’ve survived by hiding myself beneath a thousand layers, and Lorien’s peeling them back. He’s seen everything I’ve tried to mask and he’s revealing everything at my core with terrifying speed.
“You’re mine, Jude,” Lorien says, peeling back the layers with a reverence that steals my breath. “Scarred or not, I’ll love you through it. Every scar, every moment of weakness, every failure, and all your successes. You’re mine.”
He smiles and I glance down, his fingers pulling back the bandage to show nothing. Not one blemish, not even the hint of a mark. It was as if nothing happened, as if the creature and the darkness in the library didn’t try to claim me.
“What was it?” I ask, too shocked to say anything else.
Lorien glances up. “A sargath. They’re darkness conjured and controlled by the kelpies. I think we can be certain that they want you.”
I swallow.
He smiles and I don’t understand why.
“I want you too, Jude.”
My mouth forms a small ellipse as Lorien’s fingers trail down my stomach in an unsubtle and seductive manner.
“I thought I was losing you. I thought, for one dreadful moment, that I had lost you. And now I need you. I need us to come together, to know that you are mine, and to claim you again.”
The excitement surging through me is undeniable, but it isn’t the scorching inferno it’s been before.
This is different. This is deeper. This burns in a cooler, softer blaze that scorches my soul, and I recognize this for the kind of desire it is.
I’m not consumed with lust, and this longing, this need, is born from love, and it is more dangerous than any flame I’ve ever played with before.
“You came for me,” I whisper.
“Always,” Lorien replies.
His mouth crashes onto mine and his kiss is deep, possessive and as determined as his hand. He’s found my cock and although he’s careful, he’s not holding back. His touch is firm and I moan into him, my dick hardening as he strokes it until I whine into his mouth, begging for more.
“I’ll do all the work,” he says, kissing above where the iron cuts into my neck.
“You kept the collar on,” I groan.
“Yes,” he says, rubbing his cock against mine. “You’re mine, Jude. I own you. Your mouth and your ass. Your cock and your soul. My collar isn’t coming off.”
I feel his hand wrap around both of us and my cock throbs, desperately needing the pleasure he’s sending through me. I’m aching for an entirely different reason now, and Lorien knows he has me exactly where he wants me.
“Spread your legs, baby.”
My legs move instantly, and he hums in approval.
“Good boy.” Lorien’s eyes fixate on my erection. “Your cock is fucking hot, Jude. One day, when you’ve earned it, I’m going to have it pierced. And then I’ll cage it and make damn sure it’s mine.”
I shake my head and he laughs low.
“You’ll like it, baby. The piercings bring you pleasure and the cage stops you from receiving it. You’ll learn to beg and plead for release, relishing the agony of anticipation, and I’ll deny you until you can’t help but come for me and the pleasure will be exquisite.”
My dick jerks, and Lorien’s eyes widen.
He’s caught my arousal and he understands it before I do. The man is far too quick and even now, he hasn’t missed a single thing. Not one beat. And I’ve shown more than a little interest in something I don’t understand.
“That’s for later,” he says, releasing his grip. “For now, I’m going to fuck that tight ass of yours. You’re going to learn to take me whenever I want, wherever I want. I want you trained to let me bend you over and fuck you without any warning, ready and willing to give me pleasure.”
Lorien’s fingers slide backward, and I exhale, relaxing as he finds my ass. The gold in his eyes lights as he presses into it, and I whimper, slightly sore, as he uses more force than before.
“Two fingers,” he says, softly. “Such a good boy for me.”
I nod and he slides them in and out, giving me a little time to adjust. There’s still a pinch and this is still too new to be easy, but it isn’t painful, just harder than before, and a little pleasure would help. I grab my cock and stroke it once before he yanks my hand away.
“Remember the rules,” he snarls. “I control your orgasms. I control when you play with yourself. Nothing’s changed, Jude. You beg if you want that.”
Pleasure ripples through me, and this is still a game I want to play.
Lorien hasn’t asked my permission, but maybe it doesn’t matter. Not when it feels this good, this right. I didn’t know I liked this, but he did, and maybe that’s the lesson I need to learn that Lorien knows me better than I know myself, at least about this.
“It’s a lot…”
“Then you know what you need to do,” he replies, without one single note of sympathy in his tone.
I groan a half-hearted, final protest. “Please, Master.”