Chapter Six #2
My protest died in my throat as his hands yanked my leathers down, freeing me in the cool air.
“Thane—”
He took me into his mouth without warning.
The heat was immediate, devastating, wet and perfect as he sank down on me, taking me deep in one smooth motion. I swore, my hands flying to his hair, fingers tangling in the dark strands as my hips jerked forward involuntarily.
He hummed around me, the vibration sending shockwaves up my spine, and hollowed his cheeks as he pulled back, creating a suction that made my vision blur.
“Gods,” I breathed, my head falling back against the stone, every muscle in my body going taut.
Thane worked me with the kind of focus he brought to battle, determined and relentless, his tongue sliding along the underside of my cock, his hand wrapping around the base to stroke what he couldn’t fit. He knew exactly how I liked it—rough and fast, no mercy, no hesitation.
I looked down and nearly lost it at the sight.
Thane on his knees, lips stretched around me, eyes closed as he concentrated on taking me deeper, his own cock still hard and flushed between his legs, leaking against his thigh.
He looked wrecked already, undone by this as much as I was, and the bond between us flared hot and tight, our pleasure feeding into each other until I couldn’t tell where mine ended and his began.
“That’s it,” I growled, my grip tightening in his hair, guiding his rhythm. “Take it all.”
He moaned around me, the sound muffled and desperate, and redoubled his efforts, bobbing faster, sucking harder, his hand pumping in time with his mouth.
The pressure built fast, coiling low in my spine, heat pooling in my gut. I tried to pull back, to warn him, but he followed, refusing to let me retreat, one hand gripping my hip to hold me in place.
“Thane—I’m—”
He pulled off just enough to gasp, “Do it,” then sank back down, taking me to the root.
I came with a shout, my release flooding his mouth as my body locked, pleasure slamming through me with enough force that my knees threatened to give out. Thane swallowed, working me through it, his throat moving as he took everything I gave him, not spilling a drop.
When I finally stopped shaking, he released me slowly, licking his lips as he sat back on his heels, looking up at me with dark, satisfied eyes.
“Bastard,” I panted, still trying to catch my breath.
He smirked. “You started it.”
I reached down and hauled him to his feet, ignoring his sound of surprise. His cock was still hard, flushed dark and leaking, and I wrapped my hand around it again, stroking firmly.
“We’re not done,” I said.
His breath hitched. “Malric—”
“Turn around.”
Thane hesitated for half a heartbeat, then obeyed, turning to face the wall. I pressed against his back, my hand still working him, my other hand sliding up his spine to push him forward, bending him slightly.
“Hands on the wall,” I ordered.
He braced himself, palms flat against the stone, his body trembling with anticipation.
I released him long enough to reach for the small vial of oil I kept in my belt pouch—a soldier’s necessity, something we’d both learned to carry on long campaigns. I slicked my fingers quickly, efficiently, then reached between his thighs.
Thane gasped as I circled his entrance, the tight ring of muscle clenching at the contact.
“Relax,” I murmured against the back of his neck, pressing a kiss there. “You know how this goes.”
He exhaled shakily, forcing his body to soften, and I pressed one finger inside.
The response was immediate—his back arching, a low moan escaping him as I worked him open, adding a second finger, then a third, stretching him carefully despite the urgency thrumming through both of us.
I knew his body as well as my own, knew what he needed, knew the exact angle to press to make him see stars.
I found it now, curling my fingers, and Thane cried out, his hips pushing back against my hand.
“Please,” he gasped. “Malric, please—”
I withdrew my fingers and slicked myself quickly, positioning myself at his entrance. The head of my cock pressed against him, and I paused, giving him a moment to adjust, to breathe.
“Ready?” I asked, though my voice came out strained with the effort of holding back.
“Yes,” he hissed. “For fuck’s sake, yes—”
I pushed inside in one steady thrust.
We both groaned as I filled him, the tight heat of him closing around me, perfect and devastating. I gave him a moment to adjust, my hands gripping his hips hard enough to bruise, my forehead resting between his shoulder blades as I fought for control.
“Move,” Thane demanded, his voice ragged. “Damn it, Malric, move—”
I pulled back and thrust in again, harder this time, setting a rhythm that was rough and demanding, exactly what we both needed.
The angle was perfect, my cock dragging over that spot inside him with every stroke, and Thane pushed back to meet me, taking me deeper, his hands scrabbling against the stone.
“Yes,” he gasped. “Like that—gods, yes—”
I fucked him harder, faster, the bond between us blazing bright, magic tangling and surging until the air around us crackled with energy. His storm built again, lightning flickering at his fingertips, and my own power strained against the mark, the leash burning hot and angry.
“Come for me,” I growled, reaching around to wrap my hand around his cock, stroking him in time with my thrusts. “Let me feel it.”
Thane shattered with a broken cry, his body clenching around me as he came hard, spilling over my hand and against the wall.
The sensation of him tightening, pulsing, pushed me over the edge, and I followed him into release, my hips stuttering as I emptied myself inside him, pleasure whiting out my vision.
We stayed like that for a long moment, both of us trembling, our breathing harsh in the quiet chamber. Slowly, carefully, I withdrew and turned him around, pulling him against my chest as his legs threatened to give out.
Thane sagged into me, his face pressed to my shoulder, his arms coming around my waist.
“Still mad at me?” I asked quietly.
He huffed a laugh, breathless and tired. “Always.”
“Good, because I’m not done with you.”
His grip on me tightened, and the bond between us settled, steady and sure.
For now, that was enough.
Aveline
The nest had always been my sanctuary.
I burrowed deeper into the furs and blankets, pulling them close until they cocooned me completely, shutting out the world beyond the small circle of warmth I’d created.
The tower hummed beneath me, softer here than in the rest of the structure, as if it understood that this space was mine and adjusted itself accordingly.
I pressed my face into the pillow and tried to steady my breathing.
My body still felt strange—too warm, too aware, every sensation amplified in ways I didn’t understand.
The blanket against my skin irritated me.
The air moving through the room was heavy, warm, pressing on me.
And underneath it all, a low, insistent pulse had taken up residence in my belly, a warmth that wouldn’t settle no matter how still I lay.
I told myself it was anger. Frustration at Malric’s commands, at the way he’d looked at me like I was a problem to be solved rather than a person. At the way Thane had looked at me with too much understanding, as if he could see straight through the walls I’d spent years building.
But anger didn’t make my thighs press together. Anger didn’t make my breath catch when I remembered Malric’s hand at my waist, strong and unyielding, or the warmth of Thane’s body when I’d leaned into him.
I squeezed my eyes shut and willed myself to sleep.
The tower was silent around me in the way it had always been silent—no footsteps, no voices, no indication that anyone else existed within these walls. For years, that silence had been a comfort. A promise that I was safe, untouched, alone in the way Father said I needed to be.
Tonight, the air was being pulled out of the room. Tonight, I knew there were other people here.
I shifted restlessly, the furs sliding against my skin, and tried to find a position that didn’t make the heat worse. Nothing worked. If anything, the movement only intensified it, the friction of fabric against my body sending small sparks of sensation through me that pooled low and insistent.
Then I heard it.
A sound.
Distant. Muffled. But unmistakably there.
I froze, my breath catching in my throat, every muscle going rigid as I strained to hear. The tower had been silent for so long that any noise was amplified, a disruption of the natural order.
It came again. A low, guttural sound that resonated through the stone, traveling up from somewhere far below.
A groan.
My heart hammered against my ribs. For a wild moment, I thought it might be Father, that he had returned and found them, that violence was unfolding in the lower levels while I hid in my nest like a coward.
But the sound came again, and this time it was followed by another. Higher, breathless, ending in something that sounded almost like a moan.
Heat flooded my face. My hands tightened in the furs, embarrassment and confusion warring inside me because I recognized that sound from the books I’d read, from the passages I’d skipped over because they made my skin feel too tight and my thoughts scatter in ways I didn’t understand.
I should stay here. I should bury myself deeper in the nest and pretend I heard nothing.
Instead, I pushed the blankets aside and stood, compelled to investigate against my better nature.
The air in the room cooled my overheated skin, raising goosebumps along my arms. I crossed to the door on unsteady legs, my hand hovering over the latch for a long moment before I finally pulled it open.
I began moving down the stairs, slowly, cautiously. My hand gripped the stone wall for balance as I descended, each step careful, deliberate, my heart pounding so hard I was certain they would hear it even over their own sounds.