Chapter 10 Caelan #3
I don’t care. I don’t care about anything except the way she’s looking up at me like I’m a dream come to life, and I’m touching her, and the only thing I want—the only thing that matters—
Is kissing her.
So I do.
My lips find hers in a rush of heat. It isn’t gentle or sweet or soft. It probably isn’t the first kiss she deserves, but I’m running on pure instinct, and those instincts want to devour her.
And this…this is more than a kiss. It’s six centuries of starvation. It’s desperation. It’s finally realizing I’m home for the first time in my long life.
I’ve waited lifetimes for this, and I didn’t even know. Never even suspected.
Idril gasps into my mouth, and I swallow it greedily, desperate to coax more of those noises from her before this is done.
That small intake of breath is mine. Every sound she makes will be mine, and I’ll spend the rest of my days cataloging each one until I know them better than I know my own name.
Her lips move against mine in a shy, uncertain way. They’re silk and sin and everything I’ve been denying myself for my entire immortal existence.
Angling my head, I deepen the kiss. When she makes another quiet little noise in the back of her throat, something desperate and needy shoots through me and settles low in my gut.
More. I need more.
I lick the seam of her lips, begging to be let in. She opens for me. There’s no hesitation, only a shy eagerness that makes me burn hotter.
I take my advantage, sweeping my tongue past her lips to taste her for the first time.
Oh, fuck.
I feel feral. Unhinged. She tastes like honey and spring, sweet and crisp and addictive.
I’ll never crave anyone else for the rest of my life.
Her hands clutch at my shirt, fisting the fabric like she’s holding on for dear life. The possessive makes me groan, a deep, primal sound I almost don’t recognize.
She whimpers and presses closer.
Then she’s falling and pulling me with her. I follow eagerly, determined not to allow a single inch of space between our bodies.
My tongue darts out and licks into her mouth again with slow, deliberate movements. I focus on exploring the shape of her, her taste, the way her entire body shivers when my tongue slides along hers.
Bracing my hands on either side of her, I’m careful to keep from crushing her delicate frame with my larger one.
Gentling the kiss, I lean back just far enough to suck her lower lip between my teeth.
Then I bite down.
Not hard, but enough to make her gasp.
“Caelan.”
My name on her lips is the single most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard. I want to hear her say it for eternity.
“I know,” I whisper against her lips. “I know, love.”
I kiss her again, slower and deeper this time, relishing in every small whimper, every stuttered breath, every shiver that works through her body.
She wraps her legs around my hips like she’s done it a thousand times before, and I’m fucking done-for.
One hand drags gently up the curve of her back, following the line of her spine until I’m cradling her neck in my palm. She arches into me, moaning low in her throat—a breathy, perfect sound that makes my fangs throb.
The swirling warmth in my chest feels more like liquid fire than gentle light now. I can feel it pushing me, encouraging me, urging me.
Closer, closer, godsdamned closer.
It’s a maelstrom. Chaos of the best kind. I never want it to end.
My left hand finds her cheek again, and my fingers spear through her long white strands.
Her hair is just as soft as I imagined—pure silk that flows gently across my skin.
I want her body on top of mine, her back arched, head thrown back in pleasure, feeling these long strands tickle my thighs as she takes what she wants from me.
Fates, I’ll let her have whatever she wants. Anything. Everything.
The calluses on my palms catch on her delicate skin, but I don’t care. I suddenly want to leave a mark on her. I want to leave a thousand marks all over her body.
I need every inch of her to always remember the feeling of my skin on hers. Most of all, I want to claim her, and the thought of piercing her flesh with my fangs and tying her to me forever sends another rush of heat through my body.
I nip at her lower lip, and she arches closer.
My cock kicks against my zipper, and I instinctively grind down, growling when I hear her shocked gasp.
That gasp morphs into a needy whine as my hard length rubs against the soft heat between her thighs.
Is there anything I wouldn’t willingly give for the chance to sink my cock deep into her tight heat and brand her as mine?
No.
If there is, I can’t remember.
I kiss down her jaw, my lips finding the pulse in her neck with ease. I lick the skin there, memorizing the feel of her heartbeat pounding frantically against my tongue.
Too fast. Her heart is racing too fast.
Mine is, too.
I pull her closer, desperate to feel the slight weight of her against my chest. I want more.
I want to bury myself inside of her and never leave.
Cautiously, her hands move over my body, sliding from my chest and racing up my ribs and across my back. I can’t help the soft smile that tugs at my lips.
She’s exploring me.
Which is fine, because I want her hands everywhere. My hips roll forward—I can’t fucking help it—and her needy, perfect whimper makes my cock throb.
I can feel precum dripping from the head, saturating the fabric of my boxer-briefs.
The primal part of me hates the idea of my cum being wasted. I have the most overwhelming urge to paint her lips with it and rub it over her scent glands.
I want it all over her. I want it inside of her.
I’ve never had an urge to mark a female like that before. Part of me is baffled, pointing out that I should be questioning the desire, but a larger part purrs at the idea, confident that the urge to mark her is exactly right.
She’s mine. She should be covered in my scent.
Her hands wander up my back. Her fingers find my shoulder blades, and she adjusts her grip, scraping short nails over the closely cropped hair at my scalp.
I groan against her lips as shivers dance down my spine.
This time, it’s her turn to swallow the sound.
Her fingers brush the sides of my neck, right against my ear, and—
“WHAT the fuck, Caelan?”
Dax’s voice explodes in my eardrum, red-hot with fury and fear.
I jerk back on instinct, adrenaline coursing through my veins.
Idril startles at the movement, yanking her hands to her chest and cradling them like she’s been burned.
“It’s alright,” I murmur, reaching out to take one of her hands. She resists, but only for a moment before letting me cradle her delicate hand in mine.
“It is not fucking alright,” Dax barks, making zero attempt to temper his volume. “Don’t lie to me. You muted me for fifteen fucking minutes, and now all I’m getting down the Bond is a godsdamned tsunami of lust. What the hell are you doing?”
The silence after his outburst feels dangerous. I wince, aware that there’s no way to defuse this situation.
“Would you believe me if I said yoga?”
“Is the Omega in heat?”
The question makes me bristle.
“No, and that shit is none of your godsdamned business either way.”
“Then what the hell is going on? That Omega is not your mission. I told you to get out!” I can hear him pacing, voice shaking with barely-concealed rage.
Idril looks bewildered, so with a sigh and a wince, I mute Dax before he can explode.
Again.
“I have an ear-comm in, love,” I explain gently, tapping the side of my head. “You must have brushed it by accident. My teammate is… asking questions.”
Her eyes go impossibly wide, and she claps her hands over her mouth in shock. A blush bleeds up her neck and settles in her cheeks.
Gods, she’s perfect.
I flick the comm back on, bracing myself for the hell Dax is about to rain down on me.
I’m so fucked.
“I will castrate you if you do that again, do you understand me?”
Yup, I’ve definitely pressed my luck too far tonight.
“Later,” I reply tersely, refusing to take my eyes off Idril. “I’ll see you at home.”
“You fu—”
I cut comms before he can finish, then slam a mental block in place so hard it’ll probably feel like a kick to the balls. He’s already pissed, might as well go for gold, I suppose.
Kneeling in front of Idril, I reach out, not quite sure if she’ll let me touch her again now that the adrenaline of the moment has passed. Her gaze is wary, but she doesn’t pull away.
I cradle her face in my hands, running my thumbs across the soft skin of her cheekbones. Her eyelashes flutter, and she leans into my touch like she’s starved for it.
With a sinking feeling, I realize she probably is starved for touch. She nuzzles into my hand like a cat, making my Alpha preen.
“What is happening?” She mumbles.
She sounds so confused, and Fates, I get it. I don’t understand this anymore than she does.
“I don’t know,” I reply honestly. I hate that it’s the only answer I have to give her.
We sit in the dark quiet of the empty room, breathing each other in. My mind races to come up with a way to explain what happened tonight to my pack without making things worse.
This isn’t simple lust. I’ve felt lust a hundred times before.
I focus on my pack Bonds. They’re right where they’ve always been, green and pulsing with life. Connecting our souls.
And right next to them, impossible to miss, is the swirling pool of silver. A Bond and yet, not a Bond by the strictest definition of the word. There’s no thread, but…
After tonight, it’s even stronger than before. Glowing, warm, and ancient. There’s no denying that it feels… alive.
The fastest way to protect Idril and get her out of here is to get proof that she isn’t working with her father. Once I have that, I can insist we take her under our protection and keep her safe from him.
And, if she were to offer her assistance in exposing him, that would go a long way to alleviate Dax’s mistrust.
I’m more confident than ever that keeping our Bond a secret is the right course of action.