Will – Challenges #2
Malin whimpered, her head pushing back against the velvet cushion. “Will, please.”
“Please what, Sparks?” he asked with a low husky whisper, trailing open-mouthed kisses up her waist, worshiping her breasts, then moving up her jawline. “Tell me what you want to talk about. You want to talk about Darik?”
“No,” she breathed, her hips chasing his hand as he pulled back just an inch. “Gods, no.”
“Good girl,” Will growled. The dark, ugly jealousy in his chest finally began to recede, fully replaced by a blinding surge of possessive victory. The scent of sandalwood was entirely gone, obliterated by the heavy, intoxicating musk of her arousal.
He dramatically increased the pressure, his thumb finding her center and pressing deep.
Pleasure built within her, eliciting a loud, raw cry of pleasure that tore up her throat.
Will shifted instantly, remembering the thin canvas walls and the camp full of people just outside. He moved his hand from her waist and clamped it firmly over her mouth.
“Shh,” he breathed right against her ear with a triumphant smile, his tone dropping into a dominant, protective rasp. “You have to be quiet, Sparks. Unless you want the entire army out there to know exactly what I’m doing to you.”
Her eyes flew open, glazed and blown wide with need. The taboo of the setting, the imminent danger of being caught, combined with the relentless, edging friction of his hand, pushed her entirely over the edge. She was absolute putty in his grip.
He stroked her faster, mercilessly pushing her higher and higher. Against his palm, her muffled moans turned into frantic, breathless screams. Her body wound tighter and tighter.
“Let go,” he commanded softly, his own body aching with the effort of holding back. “You’re mine. I want to feel you let go.”
With a violent shudder, Malin shattered.
Her muffled cry vibrated against his hand as the climax ripped through her. The soul-bond flooded with a blinding, golden wave of pure pleasure, washing away the tension, the anger, and the trauma in one overwhelming tide.
As the aftershocks rolled through her body, Will slowly lowered his hand from her mouth.
She lay limp, completely boneless. He lay next to her, pulling her pants back up to her waist, and covered her bare breasts with his arm.
He loved seeing her chest heave against his arm, her skin damp with sweat and radiating that impossible, furnace-like heat.
He fondled the heavy amulet that hung around her neck.
His hand moved lower to grasp her breast, thoroughly enjoying the feel of toying with her nipple, and how it made her squirm under his possessive touch.
“This is new.” He tried to hide his fear that it was something that damn shadow wielder had given her.
“My aunt gave it to me. It safely stops my magic,” she managed to say.
With one leg draped heavily over her, he was entirely content, knowing she had put her trust blindly in him. He held her as her breathing slowly evened out, feeling a deep, profound sense of relief. He had her. He had erased the other man, silenced the argument, and brought her right back to him.
He had won.
He didn’t want pleasure for himself. This was all for her.
He got what he wanted. He claimed her. Overwriting Darik’s scent was enough to soothe the jagged edges of his jealousy.
As her breathing evened out, she shifted, pulling her shirt down.
Sitting up, she straddled him, leaning his shoulders back firmly against the back of the velvet couch. She rose slightly on her knees and rocked forward, her hips ground deliberately and heavily against the aching ridge of his arousal through his trousers.
“My turn,” she whispered, her eyes dark and heavy with lingering lust. She attempted to take control of the rhythm, pressing her weight down to pin him in place.
The moment her weight settled, trapping his hips beneath hers, the world violently hitched.
The scent of vanilla and musk vanished. In its place was the copper tang of blood and the damp, rotting air of his captivity. The velvet couch felt like a hard wooden chair. Her hands pressing into his chest suddenly felt like rough, unyielding ropes binding him in the dark.
Lydia’s mocking, phantom laughter echoed in his ears.
Helpless. Powerless. Weak.
Will’s entire body locked into rigid iron. A cold sweat broke across the back of his neck. The blinding heat of his arousal was instantly incinerated by a drowning wave of primal panic.
“Stop,” Will gasped, his voice cracking.
Malin froze. She pulled back, her hands hovering in the air, her eyes wide with sudden, empathetic alarm. The afterglow vanished from her flushed face, instantly replaced by shock and a flash of hurt. “Will? What’s wrong?”
His hands flew up, grabbing her hips not with passion, but with desperate, defensive force. He shoved upward, physically stopping her movement and breaking the heavy friction between them.
“Just stop,” he breathed, dragging himself back to the present. He stared at her with wide, haunted eyes. He felt entirely out of control, drowning in his own inadequacy.
He needed to put his walls back up. He shoved her away, terrified that if she touched him, his shattered memories would make him physically lash out.
“You don’t know what it’s like in my head right now,” he rasped.
“Nemilos and Lydia made a twisted mess of me. When I feel helpless, it’s suffocating.
The only time the ghosts recede is when I know you are safe and I am fully in control. ”
Malin reached out, her tone softening with profound sympathy. “I know you are hurting, Will. I want to share your pain. I want to be your partner through this.”
He recoiled from her pity. “If we are being open,” he said, his voice tightening with protective panic. “You took too many risks tonight. You shouldn’t have been in Darik’s path. And Jacien. I don’t want him shadowing you anymore. I hate that they have access to you.”
“He was there to protect me,” Malin said, her brow furrowing. “And Darik is an asshole. Yes, Darik is visually attractive, but he isn’t you. I almost pity him.”
Attractive. The word triggered a blinding spike of inadequacy.
“Stop,” Will growled, stepping back into a rigid, unyielding stance.
“I can’t hear you talk about him. I need you to stay away from Darik and that Elf.
I will guard you. You stay exactly where I can see you.
I swear I will get help. I will fix my head, but I need you to be okay with this right now. Just until I can get my mind straight.”
Malin’s expression hardened into pure ice. “What about Nar and Khelek?” she threw back, her voice laced with venom. “Should I avoid them, too? Should I just avoid anyone who happens to look in my direction?”
The soul-bond snapped taut with unadulterated fury.
Did she realize his real motives earlier, for the passionate intimacy they had just shared?
That it was mostly a lie to get Darik’s scent off her.
He had not done it to close the gap between them; he had done it to distract her so he could be around her without feeling like going primal.
Malin violently shoved his chest. “I know you suffered, but that does not give you the right to treat me like property. Do not mistake my empathy for submission,” she snarled. “You need to heal, Will, but you will not do it by putting a leash on me.”
She buttoned her clothes with trembling hands. Will instinctively pushed his nullifying power outward to ensure her wild magic didn’t flare. The last thing they needed was for her to siphon others in her rage.
“I am going back to the negotiations,” she spat, her voice lethally calm. “I’m tired, I’m cranky, and I really do not want to kill you. Keep your distance. If I need my magic controlled, I’ll have Aeladar do it.” She turned and walked out, leaving him alone in the suffocating silence.