Chapter 8 Ezra #2
“Ezra … please … your fingers—fuck, I need them. I need you. I want to keep you. Let me keep you …”
My body tenses.
My shadow shudders.
She’s dreaming—but she’s already reaching out for me, already giving herself to me.
Beneath the grip of the shadowed hand curled around her throat, she releases a raw moan, splitting me open like a festering wound.
A groan escapes my chest before I can stop it.
I lean in, lips brushing her ear, my voice nothing but a gravel-dark growl.
“Keep making those pretty noises, little vixen, and I swear I’ll give you everything you’re begging for. I’ll bury my fingers so deep you’ll forget how to say anything but my name.”
My tongue drags along the shell of her ear, slow and fucking starved. She moans again. But this time it’s filthier, like her dream just slipped its leash.
And something inside me snaps.
Fuck staying away.
I need to be close to her.
I need to fucking touch her.
I tuck my nose against her hip and drag in her scent like it’s the only thing holding me together.
My thoughts blur—lost to the pull of her.
I could show her so much. I could mark her with things that never fade.
I could make her beg for me, cry for me, lose herself in the weight of my shadows until I’m the only thing she knows.
The only thing she wants.
The only thing she needs.
Just like I need her.
Suddenly, her rhythm shifts. Her legs part wider. And then—fuck—two of her fingers slide inside, slow and deep, like she’s imagining they’re mine.
I swallow over the lump of lust and violence caught in my throat while the grip my shadow has on her throat tightens.
The need to touch Aurora becomes an ache I can no longer ignore.
I reach out, my fingers wrapping gently around her wrist. Slowly, I pull her hand away from her soaked cunt.
She whimpers and pouts in the cutest fucking way as I bring her fingers to my mouth and softly suck them clean.
Jesus fucking Christ, she tastes like corruption coated in powdered sugar.
I guide her hand to one perfect tit, then lean in and pull the nipple of the other into my mouth.
Even her skin tastes sweet.
When I bite down hard, her hips buck into the air while her wanton moan echoes off her bare walls.
“Fuck, Ezra … your fingers—need them so bad, need them inside me while I come all over your hand. Say I’m yours, Grim. Make me beg. Wanna be your good girl tonight …”
Her voice breaks off. A whimper. A moan. Sounds that say “take me” without saying a word.
That’s all the permission I need.
How the fuck am I supposed to resist a plea like that?
Chin on her bed, I watch her writhe, every inch of her soaked with want.
I slide her panties to the side and stroke between her thighs, growling at the obscene heat and slick waiting for me.
I won’t hurt her.
She’s … different.
Sacred, somehow.
Slowly, I push one finger into her hot, perfect cunt while my other hand strokes my cock with brutal precision.
Fuck, I knew she’d be tight.
Aurora whimpers, then cries out.
“Fuck, yes. More, Ezra. Give me more. Stretch me open. Don’t fucking stop.”
Christ, little lupine.
My breathing becomes ragged, and my moans are louder than they should be, but I don’t give one single shit. I’ll happily fill this little cunt to the fucking brim.
I push two fingers into her while another shadow slithers to her clit, making slow, careful circles.
Her hips meet the strokes of my fingers, which manifest vivid images of being balls-deep in this beautiful creature.
With a deep, primal groan, I work three fingers inside of Aurora, making her cry out.
Her perfect cunt flutters and clenches around my fingers.
She’s so fucking close to coming for me.
“Krisztusom, n? … What the fuck are you doing to me?” I growl, curling my fingers deeper inside her just to feel the way she clenches.
So fucking greedy. So fucking perfect.
“You want to come so bad, don’t you? But not yet. I’m going to tighten my grip around that beautiful throat. Not to hurt you, just enough to remind you who owns your pleasure. Be good for me, little vixen. Take every inch of my fingers and don’t come until I say so.”
The shadows don’t wait for my command anymore. They move on their own now. Wrapping around her thighs. Sliding up her hips. Stroking across her skin like they’ve waited eons just to touch her.
I should care.
I should stop them.
But I fucking don’t.
The shadowy hand around her throat applies more pressure while the other tendril worships her clit, leaving me free to concentrate on her.
My hand stays wrapped around my cock, strokes growing rougher as I lean forward, pull her nipple into my mouth, and curl my fingers to hit the spot that makes her tighten around me.
Every clench is a ritual, her body sacrificing itself in devotion to something dark and unholy.
Aurora’s body tenses with pleasure, then melts into the sheets as she gasps for breath.
“That’s my girl,” I rasp as she trembles, biting back the edge of her release.
The raw fucking power I have over her in this moment makes me want to do something truly stupid like sink my cock into her.
But, to my surprise, I don’t give in to that primal urge to breed this sweet little human.
Instead, I concentrate on giving her as much pleasure as possible while making mine secondary.
Shit. Maybe I never had power over her.
Maybe I’m on my knees like a fucking supplicant—not out of weakness, but because she’s holy in a way I’ll never be.
She spoke my name, and I handed her every piece of power I had left.
“Ora, vieni per me, Aurora,” I whisper, forcing my shadow to release the pressure around her neck with a rumbling growl.
Aurora gasps for breath as her back arches off the bed.
My fingers sink deep into her beautiful body, her arousal dripping down my wrist in slow, sweet trails.
It’s obscene. It’s art. It’s mine.
I come hard, a snarl ripping from my throat as I spill across her sheet—marking her space like the fucking animal I am.
One day, I’ll paint her in it. Every inch. And she’ll beg me for more.
When Aurora comes for a second time with my fingers still deep inside of her, I almost miss the soft orange glow that briefly surrounds her body.
Sure, it’s strange, but I’m too drunk on her to fucking care.
The little human rides her orgasm to exhaustion, taking every ounce of pleasure I have to give.
When her body goes limp, I sweep strands of coppery hair from her face and reluctantly cover her with the duvet.
I should leave.
But I won’t.
Instead, I sit on the floor beside her bed, my chin resting on the mattress—watching her dream, aching every time she breathes my name.
She’s fucking perfect.
Part of me wants to sink my teeth into that perfection, the other part of me wants to worship it like it’s my fucking religion.
And it’s eating me alive.
What the fucking fuck am I doing? Everything in my life has always been crystal clear until she stumbled into my town.
Maybe I should kill her.
End it before it becomes worse.
Before she becomes worse.
It would fix everything.
But the moment I picture her torn from this Earth, her voice silenced and her body left cold, something inside of me splinters.
Besides, I don’t want to hurt her. I want to make her mine.
Lay every filthy, fucked-up part of me at her feet.
Collapse before her, forehead to the floor, and let her see what ancient horror looks like when it loves.
And maybe then, I’ll believe someone could love the monster without trying to save him.
She lies there, carved from copper light, glowing like something my void was never meant to touch.
I tell myself this is the last time I’ll look. The last time I’ll pretend I have any right to want her.
But I still linger—because, void damn me, I want to burn for her just a little longer.
The birds start chirping and the sky bleeds pink.
Shit. Morning.
Which means I can’t pretend she’s mine anymore.
My knuckles graze her soft skin, and it’s over.
I’d kill for her.
Die for her.
Burn everything that ever touched her.
She’ll be at the shop later today to meet with Thane. It’s the perfect opportunity to show her the lengths I would go to please her.
I shift into my Umbraeth, preparing to slip through the bedroom window, but something stops me.
My shadows resist—trembling with refusal, pulling against me.
They don’t want to leave her.
Neither do I.
I force them back, ignoring the way they cling to the bed, the way they twitch toward her skin, the way they fight me.
They’ve never fought me before. But I don’t have time to dwell on it now.
As I phase through the window, I growl, desperately wishing I could curl my body around hers and sleep for the first time in a billion years.
Instead, I float through the woods, allowing my mind to race and wander.
Why did Aurora dream about me in the first place? She doesn’t even know me, not really.
Why the fuck is Aurora living with a hellhound?
And what was that flickering orange glow that surrounded her at the peak of her orgasm? It almost looked like she was on fire.
I’ve been alive a long time, and I’ve never seen anything like that.
When I finally return home, I shift into my L?kkda and groan from the painful pressure that’s been building in my cock since I left her.
In my haste, I stumble onto the porch and almost trip over a thermos sitting on the welcome mat right outside my front door.
Okay, a little odd, but my mind is elsewhere, so I kick it aside.
The minute I’m through the door, I slam it shut, unzip my pants, and roughly stroke my cock.
I know I just came, but the little lupine does something to me.
She makes me fucking savage without even touching me.
I close my eyes, trying to remember the feel of her perfectly stiff nipple in my mouth, the way her round hips bucked off the bed, the tight wetness of her perfect cunt, and the sweet whimpers that fell from her full lips.
Within seconds, I come so hard I almost pass out.
I have to jerk myself off two more times before I feel remotely sane again.
And even then, it’s not enough.
After a quick shower, I sit down at the island in my kitchen and jot down a few notes on what I know about the little goddess so far.
After billions of years of boredom, I’ve finally found something that consumes me.
Aurora.
She’s a mystery. A puzzle I must solve.
And if I have to destroy myself to do it?
So be it.