Chapter 22 Aurora #2
His mouth crashes into mine. Feeding something starved inside me. Setting it loose.
The idea of him drenched in blood, sinking those razor-sharp teeth into someone wicked?
It shouldn’t do it for me. But it does.
I catch his lip between my teeth, biting down until I feel the give of skin, the taste of hot metal filling my mouth.
Ezra hisses, the sound sharp and raw with hunger.
His shadows? Yeah. They definitely felt that.
They lash out before he can pull them back—a barely contained, vicious wave curling possessively against me. The inky little deviants want to sink into my skin, learn the shape of my pleasure, then drag me under until I belong to them, too.
That makes me even hotter.
His teeth find my throat, biting just shy of too hard, and my head tips back, giving him more.
Ezra’s hand drags up my thigh slowly … lazily … possessively.
Spontaneous human combustion? Yeah, I think I solved that mystery.
His fingers trail higher, so fucking close. So fucking slow.
I wrap a leg around his, rocking into his palm. A wicked chuckle rumbles through him as he grabs the back of my head and runs his nose up my neck.
It’s possessive. It’s primal. It’s consuming.
“So fucking needy.” His voice sinks into my skin as he drags his knuckles along my inner thigh. “You’d beg for it, wouldn’t you, little goddess?”
A whimper escapes through my lips, humiliatingly loud and painfully desperate.
You’re goddamn right I’d beg. I’d fall to my knees for this man.
Ezra smirks, but the shadows at his back give him away. They flicker with curiosity, holding back like well-trained beasts desperate for a scrap of affection.
Ezra inhales sharply, his grip tightening as if he’s considering something reckless. Something irreversible.
I brace for him to break. But then, just as suddenly, he pulls away.
His voice is smooth and so fucking composed.
“Unfortunately, there is work to be done.”
Ezra’s shadows linger, curling around my thighs, clinging like they don’t want to let go. Like he doesn’t want to let go. He exhales through clenched teeth, his breath shaking with the effort.
The tendrils recoil. Not because they want to, but because he makes them.
“Besides, I want to watch you squirm while we work. I want you to think about my tongue deep inside you, darling. About how my fingers feel when they hit that perfect spot—”
I groan, actually groan, and cut him off. “That’s not fair.”
The absolute fucking audacity.
Ezra chuckles, then bites my ear with a growl. I want his teeth to sink deeper, to make me bleed.
I’m so fucked. And not in the good way … yet.
“Delayed gratification, Aurora. Think about it, sweet girl … on your knees, mouth open, drool slipping down your chin while my cock slides down your throat so slow you’ll feel every inch.
I won’t stop until your eyes are watering and your cunt’s dripping from the sound of me telling you how divine your mouth feels wrapped around me. ”
He exhales against my throat. “But not yet.”
His lips claim mine, and for a moment, I can’t tell whose otherworldly growl echoes in my ear.
Fuck delayed gratification.
I glare up at him, furious with want. “Then let’s get to work, you fucking vag tease.”
Ezra barks out a laugh and drags me toward his bedroom. The ache between my thighs flares, but the second we step inside, I’m disappointed.
We’re not going to the bed.
We’re going to his goddamn closet.
My stomach dips as he pulls back a row of clothes, uncovering a hidden panel. He enters a passcode without hesitation, and the door clicks open, revealing a secret fucking room.
Because of course Ezra has a secret fucking room.
This is some straight-up Fillory bullshit, the kind of hidden doorway that drops you into a world of talking animals, cryptic quests, and a lifetime of magical trauma.
I hesitate, waiting for a talking badger to appear and hand me a riddle that will ruin my life.
Ezra doesn’t rush me. He just watches with his head tilted, visibly entertained by my indecision.
I open my mouth, then close it again.
Eventually, he grabs my hand and pulls me inside.
The space is long, dark, and silent. A single table and two chairs sit in the center, but I barely register them. Because the walls are lined with thousands of books: some ancient, some delicate, and some bound in “leather” I don’t even want to try to identify.
I slip from Ezra’s grasp, stepping toward the nearest shelf. This must be the collection he mentioned at the bookshop. I scan the titles, my fingers trailing over the spines.
At first, I assume they’re about the underborne and erevald. But no, the writing is a collection of swirling, heavily accented symbols I’ve never seen before. And then it dawns on me … these books weren’t written about them. They were written by them.
When I turn back to face Ezra, my heart stops. It’s like every fantasy I’ve ever had just materialized.
He leans against the wooden table, arms and legs crossed, watching me like I’m the most important thing in existence, all while standing in a secret library. My stupid face must give me away because he chuckles while I swallow around the lump in my throat.
“Your face right now is a goddamn masterpiece, Aurora.” Ezra smirks as he pushes off the table and slowly stalks toward me.
“I had a feeling you’d like my little collection. And before you ask, yes, the underborne and erevald write fiction, too. Many of them publish their books through human publishers, so you’ve probably read a few already. I’m not especially interested in collecting those. But if you follow me …”
Ezra grabs my hand and leads me toward the back of the library.
“I have a collection you might be interested in, little lupine. Especially given your … late-night reading habits.”
Ezra stops in front of a shelf stuffed with well-worn paperbacks, looking comically out of place beside the ancient tomes.
I squint at the titles.
The first three words I make out?
Wicked. Seduction. Desire.
Oh, for fuck’s sake.
“Tell me, darling … which one caught your eye first?” Ezra’s shadows curl around my shoulders, pretending to read along, too. I nuzzle against one, letting it brush over my cheek before pressing a kiss to its smooth, inky tendril.
They shudder, reacting instantly. Behind me, Ezra releases a deep, guttural groan of pure pleasure.
“What do you think, boys?” I whisper playfully. “Was this his favorite?”
The shadows wiggle with delight, nestling closer to me.
How the hell can shadows be this cute?
When I turn around to say something snarky, I freeze. Ezra is already behind me. His breath ghosts over my throat, fingers digging into my hips. I feel his mouth curl into a devious grin against my skin, daring me to lose the last shred of restraint I’ve got left.
Ezra’s lips graze my neck while he speaks. Each kiss scorching my skin, threatening to burn me alive.
“Underborne dark romance is very … primal. I think you’ll enjoy them.”
I mean, just the thought of Ezra coming here, stroking his thick, tattooed cock while buried in a smutty novel sends a wave of hot chills through my slutty body.
And that self-satisfied smirk? It tells me my fantasy might just be a reality.
Jesus Christ, that’s so hot.
Fuck this delayed gratification bullshit. He’s getting off on watching me squirm.
But instead of giving him the satisfaction, I gently push him away and try not to whimper when he lets me.
He won’t give me anything until we’ve made progress with our research, and we both know it.
He chuckles, fully aware of the effect he has on me.
My body’s already scheming, and my mind might as well be waving a pennant that says, “Listen to your body, babe.” Images of my knees on his shoulders, my hands in his hair, riding his face until I’m sobbing and the shadows beg for mercy flash in front of my eyes.
I press my thighs together, which is fucking pointless.
My brain’s a fried circuit board, and Ezra’s just standing there looking like the monster under every good girl’s bed.
I need a distraction. A bucket of ice. Divine intervention. Anything to stop thinking about riding his face.
And then I sigh, fully surrendering to his little game. “Fine. Where do we start?”