50. Chapter Fifty
CHAPTER FIFTY
MORTE
I feel him.
I feel him in my chest, in my heart, in every fiber of my being. The bond pulses between us, a living, breathing thing that connects our very souls. I can sense his emotions, our bond rushing through us like liquid fire, searing away any loneliness and pain of the past.
My phoenix basks in it, her wings unfurling within me, reveling in having this connection back. For the first time in my life, I feel utterly complete, whole, no longer yearning for a missing piece of myself.
I can’t stop touching him, my hands roaming over his shoulders, his face, his abs. His golden skin is hot beneath my fingertips, slick with sweat, and alive with magic. I trace his tattoos, marveling at the ink as though seeing it for the first time.
The first time I saw him, I thought he was a god.
“Morte,” he whispers, “I want you to bite me. Mark my skin with your teeth, drink the blood that only flows for you.”
His words ignite a primal hunger within me, my phoenix screeching in approval. I trail my lips along his neck, feeling his pulse quicken beneath my touch. My teeth ache to sink into his flesh, to taste him in the most intimate way possible .
He flips onto his back, pulling me with him. I straddle his waist, and his hands grip my hips, steadying me as I lean down, my lips ghosting over his neck. I inhale deeply, savoring his scent.
“Fuck,” he groans. “If you don’t bite me right now, I might combust. Take it, Firefly. All of it and all of me.”
The raw need in his voice undoes me. I sink my teeth into the tender flesh where his neck meets his shoulder, his blood exploding on my tongue, rich and intoxicating. It tastes of power, of magic, of him.
Of mine .
He cries out, his body arching beneath me, his fingers digging into my hips hard enough to bruise.
The taste of his blood, the sound of his pleasure, the feel of his body against mine—it's all too much and not enough at the same time. I drink deeply, letting his essence flow into me.
He drags my hips against him, grinding our bodies together in a primal rhythm. The friction sends sparks of pleasure shooting through me, intensifying the euphoria of his blood on my tongue.
I pull back, but before I can bring my hand up to heal him, he traps them between us.
“Don’t, I want everyone to know who I belong to.”
A possessive kind of fire ignites inside me, my phoenixes’ flames licking at my insides. I lean back, admiring the mark I’ve left on his skin. The bite is already bruising, a perfect imprint of my teeth stark against his golden skin.
He flips us, driving me into the bed, hand against the headboard as he rolls his hips against mine. I arch into him, craving more contact, more of his skin.
His lips find my neck, hot and demanding. He nips and sucks, his fangs sliding back in. He pulls from my artery as I run my fingers through his hair, tugging at it while holding him against me.
The pleasure is overwhelming, a heady kind of ecstasy as he drinks from me. I can feel our essences mingling, his blood still on my tongue as mine flows into him. It's an intimate exchange, a joining of bodies and souls that goes beyond the physical .
His hand slides down my body, tracing the dip of my waist before slipping between my thighs. I gasp against him, my hips bucking into his touch. He growls, low and possessive, as his fingers find their mark.
"Mine," he murmurs against my neck.
“Yours,” I breathe.
His fingers work their magic, drawing gasps and moans from my lips. I'm lost in sensation, drowning in the exquisite feeling of his touch, his mouth, his body against mine.
He lifts his head, eyes dark with desire, lips stained crimson. I pull him down for a searing kiss, tasting the copper tang of my own blood on his tongue.
His thumb presses against my clit, and I feel his shadow wrap around me, tugging me closer to him as if his physical touch isn’t enough. The darkness caresses my skin, and I moan into his mouth. His fingers increase their pace, the tension building inside me as I spiral higher, closer to the edge with each expert stroke. His mouth leaves mine, trailing kisses down my jaw, my neck, until he reaches my breast. When his lips close around my nipple, I cry out, arching into him. The sensations of his mouth and his fingers are almost too much to bear.
"Let go," he whispers against my skin. “Let go for me, and take me with you.”
His words, spoken with such raw intensity, are my undoing. The pleasure crests, the tension that's been building inside me finally snaps, and I shatter in his arms. I cry out his name, my body shuddering against him as the orgasm takes hold, his own release triggered by mine. His shadow pulses around us, a living thing vibrating with our shared need and desire.
Warmth fills me as he spills inside me, his body shaking with the force of his climax.
For several long moments, we lay tangled together, our breathing gradually slowing. His fingers trade idle patterns on my stomach as I lay boneless and spent .
He lifts my hand, bringing it to his lips, and places a gentle kiss on my palm.
Thundering footsteps sound from the hall, and his shadows snatch the blankets that have fallen to the ground, covering us both in one swift motion.