27. Romancing
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Romancing
Ilay across the settee in the entrance parlor, battling against nausea.
After waking moments ago, I peeked past my lashes, but the dusklight spearing through the curtains burned so fiercely that I quickly shut them again.
Dusklight was much more faint than any other part of the eve. I must have pushed myself too much.
A hand on my foot jolted me awake. Cassiel stared at me where he sat at the end of the settee. A fur blanket covered me, all except for my feet which were currently sitting on his lap. I would have known he was there if I hadn’t been seized by pain. I rubbed the cold spot on my breastbone.
Another wave of nausea rolled through me. I groaned.
“You should not have continued,” Cassiel chastised.
His hand on my foot tightened, stopping my retreat. His fingertips pressed into the bottom of my foot. I kept stiff, but the ministrations were relaxing. I begrudgingly kept my foot there, accepting the rub.
“We need too many answers for me not to translate.” He remained quiet. “We need to know how this Elysian Pair situation functions and how Warlords are made.” I exhaled. “Did you see that Lord Vaner had the Hollow Plague?”
He stopped rubbing my foot.
“What?” he said sharply.
“When I cut into his shoulder, I saw his flesh. It’s not something that can be mistaken.” I kept my eyes closed.
“That must have been why he wanted to leave the body.”
“And why he had Al dissecting and testing on various Hollow Plague victims,” I added.
“Centuries of various hosts.” Cassiel squeezed my foot. “He wanted your body for its immortality.”
“Why not the body of a Warlord?” I mumbled. It seemed such an easy solution. “Perhaps there will be answers in the grimoire.”
Cassiel remained silent. I settled into it. The conversation had eased the ache in my head until it was a faint pulsing.
He ran his fingers over the heel ever so lightly.
“What are you doing?” I pulled at my foot. He repeated the motion higher, closer to my toes. With a squeal, I yanked my leg away from his grip. He pressed the arch relentlessly and I snorted, laughing.
I gasped and kicked out. “Cassiel!” I screamed.
A chuckle left him. The sound was airy and light.
I grinned at him, hot and flushed. His smile was quite striking. He did not do much of it, so being faced with it rendered me mute.
Our interactions never felt this way. The air felt heavy with intention crackling between us. His lips quirked up which softened me more than anything else could have. The bloom in my belly trembled. I pulled myself up until I was closer, a hand’s length away from his face.
His gaze searched mine. The eerie red surrounding his pupil pulsed.
“You hurt me.” The whispered words hovered between us with tangible heaviness.
‘I know.’
The corner of his lips tensed, a small divot formed between his brows. I tucked my chin down as if it could protect my agonized throat, not wanting to fall into the sadness of considering what-ifs.
“When you brought me back to life, did you know this would happen?” I motioned between us, hoping he understood what I alluded to.
‘I have never saved someone from the brink of death. I see tethers when I access my necromancy. Your bond to life was frayed. When I reached for your life force, it was at the same moment the bond with your wraithling snapped. Magick has a mind of its own and in grasping you before death, it created our particular connection.’
A convoluted moment of chance, and not something that could be replicated.
“But I . . .”
He trailed off; the furrow deepened between his eyes. I peered into his conflicted eyes.
‘I believed saving you would bring your wraithling with you.’
As I absorbed his words, the tendril of resentment connected to Piper faded away. I had blamed him for not keeping Piper alive. As if he somehow had the ability, but had not cared to.
He lowered his head, turning his face away from me.
With this, I believed his sincerity. Cassiel had not lied. He tended not to, I realized.
He reached out, his pointing finger curled as he dragged it across my cheek, moving my hair out of the way. “You are fascinating.” Cassiel scrutinized my face as if drinking every bit of it.
“You are frustrating.”
His eyebrow rose.
“I have wondered one thing,” I started. I cleared my throat, the flush on my face worsening.
“Hmmm?” He rubbed the back of his finger along the crest of my cheek. I found myself swaying closer to him until my shoulders angled toward him, my torso following.
“That night, one of the first ones I lay chained to your bed.” I wet my bottom lip. His features smoothed out. Almost as if preparing. “Did you know I watched you touch . . . yourself?” I stuttered.
Shock splashed across his face, then a fiendish smile spread across his lips. He leaned forward until his mouth hovered over mine. The ferocity of his dark eyes held me captive.
“Of course I knew.” He caught my mouth with his. I stilled under the assault of his tongue. His fang nicked my tongue. He wasted no time in licking the spot. Desire roused to life, as it always did under his regard.
Such a tempting man. I pulled back.
“I must return to my translations.”
He curled his arm around my waist and hoisted me up into his arms. I gasped, my legs falling apart around his waist.
He did not respond, continuing with his wide stride.
Thud.
Thud.
Thud.
Each step seemingly louder. My dress fluttered around my thighs.
Until the frame of the door crossed the corner of my eye, then Cassiel was lowering me onto a pile of fur. I landed on my back while he hovered over me, tawny hair falling forward to cast his face in shadows.
Cassiel lowered, bringing his nose to the tip of mine. He exhaled and his sweet breath filled my nose. I held painfully still, waiting for his next move. His grin widened.
The oaf knew he was tormenting me.
His teeth grazed the tip of my nose, then he was gone from view, leaving me staring at the stone ceiling. I had no time to wonder where he had gone because he yanked down my bloomers, then spread my legs as wide as they would go.
“Cassiel?”
He offered me a smirk that curled his perfect lips up at one side, his fangs perfectly on display, then he lowered, keeping his eyes on me as he dragged his tongue up the slit of my entrance.
My breath caught in my throat.
A familiar pulse started between my thighs. I pressed my head back against the mattress, arching my spine to take more of his mouth. The delightful flicks of his tongue rendered me mute.
He moved his tongue up until he pressed against the bud hard. My mouth opened in a silent cry. I took hold of the front of his hair, gripping it tightly.
He didn’t slow the possession, plundering me as if he savored my taste.
I reached the climax, my body relaxing from the tension that had turned me rigid. Panting so hard my breasts heaved up and down. Cassiel’s damp lips quirked up and he lowered again to kiss my leg. He stood, reached for the button on his trousers to loosen them, and the bulge bobbed out.
Liquid dribbled down the side of the turgid length.
My mouth flooded with moisture.
Could I bring myself to do as I wished?
The dips framing his hips deepened as he moved to sit on the bed.
“Come mount my face,” he rasped.
I stood before him, staring down at the thickness. The reddened tip twitched and produced more moisture under my gaze. I gave in to doing what I’d been curious about. I grasped the shaft. A peek at him showed me his raised eyebrows.
I grabbed the nearest cushion and lowered to my knees. In the same move, I took him in my mouth. Cassiel gasped, his hand sliding into my loose hair.
‘You do not . . .’ A groan cut him off.
I flicked my tongue around the top, collecting his need. Then I dragged it down the side, suckling as I licked. Spit and need trickled to the top of my hand, so I used it to glide down.
He pumped up while his hand pressed on my head. The tip of his length shoved against the back of my throat. I choked, and he hissed. His hold on my loose tresses intensified, verging on pain.
“I do not want to harm you again,” he hissed through clenched teeth.
Again, as he had when he broke my hip. My hand seized his shaft. I pushed up, about to remove my mouth from him. He let me go so suddenly, shocking me into stillness. Cassiel grabbed the blanket beneath him, squeezing hard.
I hovered with him in my mouth. The pleasure on his face . . .
He watched me, eyes wide and mouth agape. Cassiel was so still, as if I would stop if he moved. I slowly flicked my tongue around his tip.
“You are shattering my control,” he said in a low voice. On the heels of his words, the shaft in my palm pulsed. “I cannot—” A grunt cut him off, and hot need flooded my mouth. I ran my palm down until I touched the bulge of his knot. It throbbed, the veins underneath the silky flesh throbbing.
Saints.
Another gush of warmth came from him. Some escaped the sides of my lips.
“I have not had enough,” he bit out.
He grabbed my hips and pulled me until my knees pressed into the edge of the bed. Cassiel convulsed, a snarl ripping through the chamber.
“Now,” he bit out. “Or I’ll fuck you so hard there won’t be a way to fix it.”
The pinch in my hip throbbed as a reminder.
My body could take him now because we were matched.
I stumbled forward and straddled his waist, hovering over him with my hands braced on his shoulders. “Ride me,” he whispered in a silky tone. Creases lined his face, and his fangs were fully on display with his bared teeth.
Scooping the bottom of the simple gown, I pulled it high on my waist until I was exposed. Cassiel inhaled sharply.
“You smell fucking delicious,” he hissed, and his shaft twitched, dampness beading at the tip. I switched most of my gown’s skirt to one hand and reached down to grip him. He groaned, hips thrusting up into my hand. Slickness dripped onto the side of my hand.
His tip pressed against me. My lips parted on an exhale, and I gave into the urge to rub the head of his shaft against my increasing dampness.
Cassiel’s breathing elevated.