CHAPTER 34 #2
I crush his lips with my own, cupping his neck.
My deep-seated longing for the male wells within me, brimming with every kind touch, and every soft word and kept promise he ever whispered into my ear.
Maybe I’m a fool. But the reward of having him for my own greatly outweighs any pain I could ever suffer by his hand.
He returns all the fiery passion I pour into him, palming my ass, lifting me until he has situated me above his tip and is teasing my entrance.
“I want you, Shivaria.” My breath catches in my throat when he says it.
It’s a simple declaration, one that I understand well, one that I’ve spoken to him before. But when he says it, it tugs on an invisible thread in my chest that is firmly tethered to his own on the other side.
“You have me,” I answer, understanding for the first time the promises held in the same words he said to me.
His eyes are full of that promise when he parts my entrance and slides me down his length. I moan at the perfect stretch of my body around his when he pushes himself in to the hilt.
“Say it again.” His eyes burn with the desire of his request as he pumps his thick shaft in and out in long, sweeping strokes, guiding me up and down with his hands on my hips.
“You have me.” My stomach hollows when I speak the words aloud, a slew of emotions clashing deep within my gut.
As much as it’s a relief to finally admit to myself and to speak aloud to him, I’m gripped by the fear of what I’m giving the male.
Myself, unguarded and defenseless now that he knows that he is what I want.
Only once before have I spoken these words to anyone, and I push down the memories as quickly as they rise.
“Never, mi’ajna.” I barely hear the whisper as his hand travels between my legs, and he swipes a perfectly calloused thumb across my nub. “I will never hurt you, never betray you.”
My throat burns even as my core tightens, and he captures every moan of pleasure on his lips.
With a last deep thrust and strum against that sensitive mound of flesh I unravel.
Millions of small threads that once made up a whole are cast out into oblivion, to flit across tides of starlight.
He meets me there, even as I dance in the ethereal beauty of the endless skies, patiently collecting those threads, binding me back together until I am whole once again.
I shudder the last of my release even as he swells inside of my pulsing core, spilling his sated desire within me.
I brush my lips along his shoulder, regretting that the moment has passed. It’s not enough. It never is.
His throaty chuckle tickles my ear. “Let me take you to bed, mi’ajna. The night is still young, and I’ve only just begun.”
“You said you couldn’t read my mind,” I say skeptically, my head resting on his shoulder.
“I don’t need to read your thoughts to feel the desire welling within you, it’s the same as my own.”
“You can feel that?” I ask, pulling back to read his eyes, speculating as to the male’s gift.
He nods. “Sometimes there is a great deal I can feel from you. Other times, nothing at all.”
I hum under my breath, wondering just how much of my murderous intent he’d felt at the beginning. I suppose that might explain a few of our earlier interactions. Deciding it’s better to keep all those thoughts from my head, I let my eyes drop to his mouth and bite my bottom lip.
That’s all the male needs to hook an elbow under my legs and carry me out of the tub.
He kicks a lever by the floor on his way to the bedroom and my eyebrows hit my hairline when the gushing waterfall cuts off and the marble tub drains in a giant whirlpool.
Maybe I really could spend a lifetime exploring the palace and all the carefully constructed inventions of the feyn.
Late into the night, after Xeyvian has driven my passion to blissful release for hours, I rest my head on his chest. My mind wanders as I listen to the beautiful sound of each breath he draws into his lungs as he sleeps.
There is too much to consider, too much to ponder in one night.
But there is one simple truth I can no longer deny. I have no desire to kill the feyn king.
Learning that he is protecting the fea from the Vatruke is reason enough to want him to live.
But, apart from that, I know now that I could never intentionally injure the male that lays by my side.
Not by ending the life of his king, not in any way that I can fathom.
My very being recoils at the thought of that betrayal.
Even as I admit all of this to myself, I don’t taste the bitterness of failure that I expect. I am Drakai no longer, and I will never be Fea Dien, not in the way I was molded to be.
My stomach hollows as I consider my future. I have to tell him. This is not a secret I can keep from him forever. Even if it were, the very thought of maintaining this deception between us is vile.
Despite the fact that he claims he will never hurt me, his loyalty is to his king first, and I am a threat to everything he stands for.
I won’t blame him if he throws me in a cell.
As the king’s general he won’t have a choice once he learns what I am.
Even as I think it, guilt swells in my gut.
Guilt that the male who has given himself to me will be forced to execute my punishment.
My brow pinches when I am struck with the realization that the choice to punish me is something I can take out of his hands. I can do this for him.
I will tell the king and let him seek justice as he sees fit. I have to believe that the male is merciful to some extent, though it is entirely possible his tolerance and the sanctuary he offers the fea won’t extend to a mortal sent to end him.
Tomorrow, I will seek the king and let the fates decide which of the few remaining paths left of my life I will tread.