Chapter 31
Chapter Thirty-One
There's no softness in this kiss. No careful exploration. Only determination. Plunder. His tongue sweeps into my mouth and tangles with mine, hungry and demanding.
I fist my hands in his hair. Wrap my legs around his waist. When he grinds into me, the moan that escapes is shameless.
He does it again. Harder. Growls against my mouth when I meet his thrust. Bites my lip when I do it again.
He tears his mouth away long enough to yank the tunic over my head. Stops. Stares. I'm bare beneath it. Nothing between us but air and heat.
"Temptation." His voice is raw. "That's what it stands for."
Every other time he's asked, I've had a quip ready. Now I can't think of a single word. Not with his eyes on me like that. Wild. Ravenous.
His gaze traces my jagged scars. Travels up the sigil on my torso. He releases a shaky breath when his eyes reach my breasts. My nipples are peaked, aching for him. When his gaze finally lifts to mine, I'm trembling.
We stare at each other. Chests heaving. Wanting. Needing.
Holding his gaze, I rise onto my elbows. Stretch out my leg. Press my foot against the hard length straining his pants. I bite back a gasp.
Gods, he's impossibly hard. His eyes flare and darken as he takes a step back and begins to undress. His eyes stay on my face, tracking every shift in my expression as he reveals himself inch by inch.
Hard muscle. Golden skin. Scars that tell stories I want to learn. When he stands fully naked before me, I don't bother hiding my admiration. Don't bother pretending my mouth isn't watering.
"The way you look at me." His voice is gravel and smoke.
He steps forward. Drops to his knees. I gasp as his mouth finds my ankle. He presses hot, open kisses up my calf. My knee. The inside of my thigh.
The combination of his tongue, his teeth, the scratch of his beard against my skin makes it impossible to stay still. By the time he reaches my inner thighs, I'm shaking. He groans against my skin like I'm the best thing he's ever tasted.
He worships my scars with his mouth. Traces my sigil with his tongue. Finally, finally, he reaches my breasts. I stop breathing when he licks my nipple.
Arch off the bed when he draws it into his mouth and sucks deeply. The deep moan he releases vibrates through me, settles between my thighs, makes me clench around nothing.
I sink my fingers into his hair, writhing beneath him as he moves from one breast to the other. Licking. Sucking. Biting just hard enough to make me cry out. I could shatter from this alone.
Then he starts kissing his way down. Nipping. Tasting. Until his face is between my thighs and I forget how to think.
His rough fingers part me gently. The glazed, reverent look in his eyes as he stares at the most intimate part of me ... that might be my undoing. And then he licks me. Just once. A slow, deliberate stroke that makes every thought in my head scatter like ash.
"Gods, Menace." His breath fans over my sensitive flesh. "I've dreamed of this, but ..."
He doesn't finish the sentence. His mouth closes over that bundle of nerves instead. My hips bow off the bed and he presses me back down against it. I fist the sheets at my sides, desperate for something to anchor me.
"Oh my gods, Malachi—"
He uses his tongue the way a painter would use a brush, his mouth the way a starving man devours his last meal. My hips undulate on their own accord, chasing a release on his tongue, and he growls in approval, gripping my thighs hard as he sets to demolish me.
Even through the haze of pleasure, I know this man is going to ruin me. And I'm going to let him. He groans against me like he's the one losing his mind. Like he's the one unraveling.
He uses everything. The bond. The hitch in my breath. My writhing. The sounds spilling from my lips. He takes it all and uses it against me until he's found every spot that makes me scream.
Until I shatter. Convulse. Until my voice is hoarse from screaming his name. A ragged groan tears from his chest as he lifts his head. He slides two fingers inside me and starts pumping slowly, stretching me.
"Oh my—" I arch off the bed, unable to form words as his fingers work me and his thumb circles that sensitive bud.
"Look at you. So fucking beautiful." His voice is wrecked as he continues his torture.
Somehow, I manage to open my eyes and look down at him. Gods, I shouldn't have. He's watching me with such wonder. Such awe. Like I'm something precious. Something sacred. The emotion that rises in my chest is too much. I bite my lip hard to keep it from spilling over.
"Mal." My voice breaks. "I need you inside me. Please."
His eyes smolder. He holds my gaze as he latches his mouth over me again, hooks his fingers, and sends me over the edge once more. I come screaming again. I hear him murmur something as he kisses my leg. Feel the bed shift.
When my vision clears, he's hovering over me, one hand cupping my face as he starts to slide inside. I gasp at the stretch. Spread my legs wider to take more of him. My eyes squeeze shut as tears threaten to spill.
"You okay?" His voice is rough. Strained.
I nod, eyes still closed.
He stops moving. "Ada."
"Don't stop." I force my eyes open. "Please. It's just been a long time. I'm fine. Keep going."
He huffs a laugh. It's strained, barely controlled.
"It's been much longer for me." His forehead drops to mine. "Taking myself in hand every night, thinking of you ... it's nothing compared to this. Nothing compares to you."
My heart stutters at the admission. I slide my hands back into his hair, and something in his expression softens.
"Go slow," I whisper.
He lowers his mouth to mine in answer.
"Keep your eyes on me." He pulls back just enough to hold my gaze. "I want to watch you fall apart around my cock."
My breath catches. I nod.
He sinks all the way in with a thrust that knocks the air from my lungs. Both of us make a sound. His is strangled, barely contained. Mine is something closer to a sob.
He holds there for a moment. Lets me adjust. Then he finds his rhythm. I can't look away. Can't do anything but feel as he moves in slow, languid strokes. Each thrust hits that spot inside me that makes stars burst behind my eyes. Each retreat leaves me aching for more.
He braces on his forearms. Claims my mouth again. His tongue finds mine in a slow, sensual rhythm that mirrors the movement of his hips.
"So close." I whimper against his mouth. "Mal, I'm so close—"
"Gods, yes." He increases his pace, tongue stroking into my mouth in time with his thrusts. "Give it to me. Give me everything. Let me feel you."
He breaks the kiss. Pulls back. There's something wild in his eyes as he grips my hips. Then he unleashes.
Harder. Deeper. Relentless. I'm speaking words that make no sense, screaming for him not to stop, and then I shatter, clenching around him so hard he groans.
"Oh, fuck. Fuck, Ada." His thrusts stutter.
Then speed to an impossible pace as he chases his own release. He roars as he comes undone. Shudders so violently that I shudder with him. He collapses forward but catches himself on his forearms before his full weight crushes me.
I wrap my arms around him. Take the first content breath I've drawn in longer than I can remember.
After a long moment, he pulls back. Searches my face. I watch his throat work as he swallows.
"What you said earlier, about flaying yourself open." His voice is rough. "You've been doing that to me every second of every day since we met."
He claims my mouth again before I can respond.
“How did you get these?” he asks, tracing the larger scars on my torso.
“That one is from my bargain. Jordi was shot by a poisoned arrow and I didn’t know how to use my healing gifts.”
His eyes flick to mine. “Your desperate bargain.”
I nod, smiling softly as I brush his hair away from his eyes. “I guess when I heal people, I end up taking their scars.”
“You guess?”
"I didn't see Jordi's chest afterward. I forgot to ask if he ended up with one."
He nods and traces the larger, jagged scar. “What about this one?”
“I don’t know.”
He frowns as he searches my face, waiting for an explanation.
“I had it when I arrived. That’s what the Sages told me, anyway.”
He stares at me for a long moment before he presses a kiss to each scar, then my sigil, then my throat, and finally, my lips. I smile as I sit up higher against the headboard, pulling the sheet up with me as I turn my face towards him.
"Why do your eyes flash like that?"
He settles beside me. "Because I'm a Rook."
"Freida told us stories about raffin wielding different colors of lightning. She never mentioned the riders' eyes flashing."
"Not all raffin wield lightning. Some control cloud formations. Create storms. It helps them travel unseen." He stretches his arm behind me. "Others can disappear entirely. My raffin happens to wield bronze lightning."
"That sounds incredible." I pause. "And terrifying."
His lips twitch.
"Have your eyes flashed before tonight? I can't imagine I'd miss something like that."
"Once." He casts me a sideways look. "At Siren's. When I learned you were in a private room with that legion guard."
A smile spreads across my face before I can stop it. "Because you were jealous?"
He chuckles. "Are you so cruel that my agony excites you?"
“Your agony doesn't excite me.” I trace a finger down his chest. “Knowing you want me does.”
He cups the back of my neck. Gods. Even after everything I've told him, he looks at me like I'm the only one who can satisfy the hunger banked inside him.
"I always want you, Menace."
The yearning in his eyes undoes me. I shift, straddling his stomach, and shiver when I feel him hardening between my legs. I lean in, holding his gaze, and press a soft kiss to the hollow of his throat. The choked gasp he makes sends a thrill through me.
"Merciless." His fingers dig into my thighs as I lick up the column of his throat. "That's what you are."
"You said you like everything I do."
"I love everything you do." His grip tightens. His voice is hoarse. "Everything."
I pull back to say something. The words die on my tongue when I see the hunger blazing in his eyes. Instead of speaking, I rise up. Position him at my entrance. And slowly sink down.
My breath catches at the stretch.
"Gods—fucking—damn." Each word is punctuated by a strangled sound as I seat myself fully.
When I start to move, he makes another sound. Something between a groan and a prayer.
"The meeting with the Sages." His fingers trace slow circles on my back. "That's when you learned about your parents? That's why you wouldn't let me comfort you?"
I nod against his chest.
"Gods, Ada." He pulls back to see my face. "Why didn't you tell me? Did you think I'd drag you to the Bratus? Did you think I'd—"
"No!" I push up on my elbow to face him. "I didn't want you to look at me and see a monster. That was before I knew you were the prince!"
He chuckles, hand settling on my hip. "And we know how you feel about monarchs."
"Oh gods." My eyes widen. The twinkle in his only grows brighter.
"Don't worry. I won't tell the king."
"Goddess strike me." I bury my face in the pillow. "You couldn't have stopped me from putting my foot in my mouth?"
"And make myself a target of your ire?" He laughs. "No, thank you."
He brushes the hair from my shoulders. Turns my face toward him. Cups my cheek, eyes soft. "You're so beautiful."
"So are you." My chest tightens as I shift closer. "What are we going to do?" I whisper.
"Figure it out." His thumb strokes my cheek. "Together."
"What if we can't?"
"We will."
I swallow. "The Flame said I won't lose my life to the curse."
His eyebrows rise. "She said that?"
"She said I'll lose my memories." I look away.
"That's not going to happen."
My eyes snap to his. "Mal. We can't change fate."
"I'll speak to her. I'll—"
"No." I sit up, cross my legs, face him fully. "You are not making another bargain."
He sits up, shoulder against the headboard. "You can't make that decision for me."
"And you can't fix everything with bargains." My voice sharpens. "I won't allow it."
He stares at me. Eyes narrowed. Jaw tight. "We’ll leave the night after tomorrow."
"What about the ivory weapons?"
"Kage will handle it." His voice brooks no argument. "Our priority is the scepter. And finding a way to lift this curse without endangering you or losing your memories."
I nod.
"I meant what I said." His eyes hold mine. "I won't let you sacrifice yourself."
We both know the prophecy can't be changed. But I place my hand over his and squeeze, hoping it's enough. Cursebearer. What a terrible thing to name a child. What a terrible weight to carry for three hundred years.
I refuse to add to it.