Chapter 14 Mihalis
MIHALIS
I'm barely holding myself together.
Every muscle in my body coils tight as I lean against the door, wings spread wide to create distance between us because if I turn around right now—if I look at her in that dress again—I'm going to do something that will send her running straight back to the streets where I found her.
The essence of fire burns through my veins, amplifying every sensation, every emotion. The way she looked tonight when I walked into her room. The sound of her laugh when she spun for me. The absolute fury that consumed me when that bastard put his hands on her.
Mine.
The word echoes in my skull like a war drum, primal and possessive and completely at odds with the careful control I've maintained for weeks.
I've been so fucking careful with her, walking on glass to avoid triggering her fear of being owned, of being controlled.
But seeing another male touch her, hearing him assume he could just take what he wanted. ..
My hands curl into fists against the wood. The bond pulses between us, feeding me her emotions in fractured bursts—arousal, confusion, something that tastes like hunger but sharper. More desperate.
"I wasn't going to do anything with him."
Her voice cuts through the silence like a blade, defensive and sharp. I can't help the bitter laugh that escapes me.
"It's not like you would have been given a choice." The words come out sounding cruel, but they're true. I've seen enough of what happens during Noxalyth to know exactly how that encounter would have ended. "Not with someone like that."
It's not like she chose me either.
The thought makes something twist viciously in my chest. She's here because of magic, because fate or the gods or pure cosmic cruelty decided to bind us together. Not because she wants to be. Not because she chose this—chose me.
I feel her bristle through the bond, anger flaring hot and bright.
"Then what do you want from me?" The words snap like a whip, all that carefully contained fire finally breaking free. "Some kind of apology? What?"
The question breaks something inside me.
I whirl around, and the sight of her nearly brings me to my knees. Hair wild from the wind, cheeks flushed with anger and drink, that black dress clinging to every curve I've been trying not to think about for weeks. Beautiful and fierce and completely unaware of what she's asking for.
"Everything." The word rips from my throat like a confession torn free. "I want everything, Heidi."
I stalk toward her, and she doesn't back down—doesn't retreat even as something dangerous unfurls in the air between us. Of course she doesn't. My brave, reckless little thief.
"I want your body, yes. Gods, yes—I want to taste every inch of your skin, want to hear you scream my name until your voice breaks.
" The words pour out harsh and raw, months of careful restraint cracking like ice.
"But I want more than that. I want your trust. Your laughter.
I want to know every secret you've ever kept, every dream that keeps you awake at night. "
Her lips part in shock, storm-gray eyes wide as I close the distance between us. I can smell her arousal now, sweet and intoxicating, mixing with the lingering traces of essence of fire on her breath.
"I want your anger when I do something that pisses you off.
I want your softness when you think no one's watching.
" I reach up, fingers ghosting along the line of her jaw.
"I want you to choose me—not because some cosmic force decided we belong together, but because you want to.
Because you can't imagine belonging anywhere else.
" My voice drops low. "Gods, my fucking soul reaches out for you. Can't you feel that?"
The tension between us snaps like a bowstring.
She surges up on her toes, fingers fisting in my shirt, and crushes her mouth to mine with desperate hunger. The kiss is brutal—all teeth and need and weeks of suppressed want finally breaking free. I nip at her lower lip hard enough to draw a gasp, and she retaliates by biting down on my tongue.
Fire races through my veins, pooling low and hot. My hands find her waist, lifting her easily onto the edge of my desk as I step between her parted thighs. The kiss deepens, becomes savage, both of us taking and demanding and giving nothing but raw need.
I break away to breathe, both of us panting, and her fingers are already working at the buttons of my shirt. But I catch her hands, pin them against my chest.
"Are you sure?" The question scrapes from my throat. "Because once I start, Heidi, I'm not going to be able to stop. Not until I've had every part of you."
Her answer is to lean forward and bite the side of my neck, hard enough to leave marks. "Then don't stop."
Something snaps inside me—the last thread of my control finally giving way.
I lay her back against the desk, hands skimming up her thighs to find the hem of that sinful black dress. She lifts her hips to help as I peel it away, revealing inch after inch of pale skin marked with old scars and new determination.
My mouth waters at the sight of her. Beautiful. Perfect. Mine.
"I want to mark you," I murmur against the hollow of her throat, breathing in the scent of her skin. "I want everyone to know you belong to me."
Her soft moan is answer enough.
I scrape my teeth down the column of her neck, testing, watching her face for any sign of fear or hesitation. But all I see is want—desperate, hungry need that mirrors my own.
So I bite down. Hard.
She writhes beneath me, back arching off the desk as a cry tears from her lips. The sound goes straight to my cock, but it's the way her body responds—the way she melts into the pain instead of pulling away—that nearly undoes me.
My hand slides between her thighs, fingers finding her already soaked. "Fuck, Heidi. You're so wet."
I push two fingers inside her, feeling how she clenches around the intrusion, and she keens softly. Her hips rock against my hand as I drag my mouth lower, teeth grazing the delicate skin just above her collarbone before biting down again.
The mark blooms dark and violent against her pale skin, and the sight of it makes something primitive roar in approval deep in my chest. Mine. Finally, visibly mine.
I work my fingers deeper, thumb finding the sensitive bundle of nerves at her apex, and she gasps my name like a prayer. But it's not enough—won't ever be enough until I've claimed every inch of her.
My mouth moves lower, teeth scraping along the swell of her breast before closing around her nipple. She tastes like salt and sweetness and something uniquely her, and when I bite down—not gentle, not careful—she comes apart beneath me.
Her pussy clenches around my fingers as she rides out the waves, my name spilling from her lips in broken syllables. But even as she shakes with aftershocks, I don't stop. Can't stop.
I need more. Need everything she promised to give me.
I break away from her breast, my tongue immediately soothing the sting I left behind as my hands work frantically at my laces. The soft whimper she makes goes straight to my cock, already straining against the confines of my pants.
"Patience, little thief," I murmur against her skin, but my own words mock me. There's no patience left in me—not after weeks of wanting her, not after seeing another male's hands on what belongs to me.
The laces finally give way, and I shove my pants down just enough to free myself.
My cock springs free, already hard and aching, the head slick with need.
I drag her closer to the edge of the desk, positioning myself between her spread thighs, and the sight of her laid out before me—flushed and wanting, marked by my teeth—nearly breaks the last of my control.
I grip myself at the base, dragging the head of my cock through her folds.
She's so fucking wet, slick and hot against me, and I have to bite back a groan as I coat myself in her arousal.
The sensation is exquisite torture—her pussy lips parting around me, the promise of what's to come making my entire body coil tight with anticipation.
"Please," she whimpers, hips rocking against me, trying to take me deeper. "I want more."
The breathless desperation in her voice makes something dark and possessive unfurl in my chest. I look down at her—hair spread across my desk like spilled ink, cheeks flushed, lips swollen from my kisses—and I can't hold back the predatory grin that curves my mouth.
"More?" I tease, notching the head of my cock at her entrance. "Tell me what you want, Heidi."
"You," she gasps, nails digging into my shoulders. "I want you inside me. Please—"
I push forward, just the tip breaching her entrance, and we both groan. She's impossibly tight, her body gripping me like a fist, and I have to grit my teeth to keep from slamming into her all at once.
"Fuck," I breathe, watching her face as I sink deeper. "You feel incredible."
Her pussy yields to me slowly, inch by agonizing inch. Her walls flutter around my cock as I stretch her, and the small sounds of pleasure and surprise she makes drive me closer to the edge of madness. She's so tight I can barely move, but gods, the way she takes me—like her body was made for mine.
"So full," she moans, head thrown back against the desk. "You're so—gods, Mihalis—"
I slide deeper, feeling her body adjust to accommodate me, and when I'm finally buried all the way inside her, we both go still.
The sensation is overwhelming—the heat of her wrapped around me, the way her pussy clenches and releases as she gets used to my size, the bond between us singing with shared pleasure and need.
For a moment, I just breathe, forehead pressed against hers, both of us panting as we adjust to the connection. She feels perfect around me, like coming home after years of wandering in the dark.
"You're taking me so well," I murmur, pressing a kiss to the corner of her mouth. "Every inch of me."