CHAPTER 32 #2
The moment my back hits the bed he continues his thorough exploration of my body.
A frustrating and glorious tension building deep inside me when he skips over every tender, sensitive piece of flesh he’s already mastered with his tongue.
He’s lavishing his attentions on my ankle when I catch the glint of his fangs in the first rays of sunlight that filter in through the windows.
I don’t have to glance down to see that he shares the deep growing need wetting my core.
His eyes burn through me when he says, “I’ve already told you that I am yours.” He leans over me, my breasts pebbling against his chest as it brushes against me. “Now let me show you what it means to be mine.”
My stomach dips at the gravel in his tone when he says it.
Before I understand what he intends, the male lays down on his back, lifts me over his head, and settles my legs on either side so that I straddle his face.
My cheeks burn, but before I can squirm out of his grasp his hands palm my ass and his tongue swipes at my entrance.
He moans at the taste and my knees quake, threatening to collapse.
His hands move from my backside to my hips, encouraging me to partake in his greedy tongue. It only takes a small pitch of my torso and that tender nub he’s been careful to avoid in his trail of kisses is being diligently teased between lips and teeth.
He smiles when I moan and, gripping my hips, he pulls me down onto his face. It’s all the encouragement I need to take full advantage of the position, and I press myself against his ravenous mouth.
His. That’s what he said. And I can’t deny that in this moment I want to be exactly that.
His tongue delves deep inside me, as his thumb strums between my legs causing my breath to catch in my lungs. He moans into my core when I throw my head back and tremor out my pleasure, his tongue offering a caress and flick at my nub with every rapturous quake.
With a self-satisfied smile and kiss to that tender mound, he lifts me up and lays me back down, my belly against the silk sheets. He hooks my waist, lifting me onto my knees, he pulls me against him and his thick shaft slides between my legs, gliding across that sensitive rise.
His chest presses against my back when he leans over me, cupping my jaw as he whispers in my ear. “Tell me you will stay with me in A’kori.”
He must feel my apprehension because before I can answer he lines himself up behind me, rises to his knees, and presses against my entrance. The slow stretch as he pushes himself into me draws a loud cry of pleasure from my lips. I clutch the sheets in my fists and bury my face in the duvet.
The male must be proficient at torture, and why hadn’t I suspected that before? He withdraws each tantalizing stroke before I can find the bliss of our completion.
“Xeyvian,” I beg as he teases me, “I want you.”
“I know the feeling, mi’ajna.” His breath caresses my ear. “Say it.”
The demand, the withholding, the torturous promise of rapture if I give in. The male is a demon, and I can’t even convince myself to hate him for it. I attempt to pull away. I won’t let myself lie to him, not about this.
His grip firms on my waist and he sinks himself deep, until his hips bump against my backside and I sigh at the reprieve as he releases a throaty groan of his own.
He graces my body with long, slow sweeps that send a shiver up my spine.
His lips land between my shoulder blades when he reaches a hand between my legs and rounds that sensitive mound of flesh with his thumb once again.
“Fates.” It passes my lips in a whispered breath as he thrusts himself into me fully. Never have I felt so complete.
My core clenches around him as I crest the rise of my release.
“Say it.” His demand makes me molten, and it takes everything I have to push down the urge to give the male everything he wants.
A quiet curse slips from his lips when I peak, tightening around his perfect length, every pulse of my ecstasy drawing him deeper inside of me.
Before my body can fall slack against the silk sheets beneath us, he withdraws from me and flips me onto my side, pulling one leg between his thighs as he wraps the other around his side. I hardly have time register the position before he sheaths himself in me once again.
He cups my breast as he pulls back and thrusts himself deep, an act he repeats at a quickening pace. My back arches and I stifle a moan, my body too sensitive for his attentions to be anything but mind bending.
His hands wrap around my torso, and he pulls me back against him in the same moment he thrusts his hips forward.
My head spins, my hands grasping at the sheets, my body contorting into a taut string, ready to snap.
The tension builds in my belly and the male smiles down at me smugly as he repeats the motion.
With a ragged moan, every muscle in my body flexing in an uncontrolled demand for release, I spiral into oblivion. His own passion floods me as he follows after, chasing the stars and reforming the known constellations in the ripple of our combined breaking.
I’m lost among unknown worlds when he brushes a dark spiral from my face, trailing his thumb across the flush of my cheeks, bringing me back to him.
“Tell me you’ll stay,” he begs, “because now that I’ve found you, I know that whatever life I thought I had before was merely existing.”
His plea guts me, and I find that more than I’ve ever wanted anything for myself, for my kingdom, for my king, I want to give this male everything he asks. But how can I?
Even if I tell him everything and he allows me to live—which he won’t. How could he?—Even if I find out that everything they’ve told me about the La’tari is true, there is still more to consider.
“Vos,” I say.
His brow draws down and he brushes his knuckles over my cheek. “We are strong enough to deal with Vos when she comes for you, and there is no safer place for you on Terr than by my side.”
I know he believes that, and he might be right, but at what cost? I’m no fool. I know that I had gotten lucky when I felled her mate. What little I’ve learned about the female since then tells me all I needed to know about her strength and the impossible power she possesses.
A tick at the edge of his jaw draws my attention.
“It doesn’t take an empath to see the war in your eyes, mi’ajna.”
It isn’t a question but the need to explain bubbles up inside of me.
“I want to stay,” I admit, even as my stomach dips in fear of the proclamation, even knowing it won’t change a thing. He wants more; I can see it in his eyes as clearly as he is reading the tempest of muddled thoughts in my own, but he doesn’t press.
He simply nods and lands a gentle kiss on my lips when he says, “That is enough, for now.”
He begins to push away from me, a flash of disappointment exposing his weakness. My whole life I’ve been trained to exploit that weakness, to use it against him to further my own ambitions. But I don’t think before I thread my fingers in his hair and pull his mouth to mine.
I don’t want to use the male’s weaknesses against him, all I want in the world is to reassure him that I want him.
That if it were just us, I would give myself to him without hesitation.
With the caress of his tongue against mine, he deepens the kiss, his hand resting over my heart.
When he breaks away, resting his forehead against mine, the tension leaves his body in a deep sigh.
He pulls me to my feet and ushers me back into the washroom, as he continues through, making his way toward the closet.
Cringing when I look in the mirror again, I find a comb to untangle the mess of locks knotted down my back.
I’ve barely finished working my mane into manageable spirals when he comes up behind me, ready for the day, landing a lingering kiss in the crook of my neck.
“I sent an invitation for the masque to an old friend of mine,” he says, “She is set to arrive tomorrow, and I’d like you to meet her.”
My stomach pits at the tone of his voice and the serious look in his eyes. But I smile and nod, considering, as always with the feyn, what her gifts might be and how a moment alone with the wrong gifted will change everything.
A knock at the door calls him into the main room and he closes the washroom doors as he leaves.
Dressing in a blue-grey gown with a matching pair of fitted pants, I immediately regret the absence of the leathers against my skin.
Wishing I had some way to hide my precious blades beneath the skirt of my dress, I let myself out into the room beyond.
The general stands in the doorway of the war room speaking with Riesh, his brow falling in confusion when he takes in my chosen attire. I run my fingers through the length of my hair and raise my brows. If the male has something to say…?
“You don’t plan to train with Riah this morning?” he asks curiously.
I shake my head, pulling my shoulders back, well aware of the protests I’m about to receive from him.
“I’m going to visit my uncle,” I announce.
Despite the fact that it is not a question, he draws in a deep breath, considering me.
“I will take Riah with me.” I only say it because I’m sure that there is no veil in Terr in which the male will let me go alone, not while Vos remains on the continent.
He shakes his head, and I firm my resolve. I’m ready to go to war with him if he tries to lock me inside the palace for my own good.
“Let me send a carriage for him,” he says, offering a solution.
I can’t fault him for his desire to keep me safe inside the palace grounds and so I agree to his request. It might be a bit overprotective but when I recall how I felt when the Drakai came to claim his life I find that I understand all too well.