Chapter 18 #3
I do it again. Then I use my tongue. A slow, flat stroke from bottom to top.
Her taste explodes on my senses—musky, sweet, uniquely her.
I circle the tight bundle of nerves at the apex, my movements lazy, relentless.
I slide a finger inside her, curling it.
She is hot. Silken. Clenching around nothing.
“Azrael…”
It sounds like surrender. Like prayer. Like something sacred breaking open.
I add a second finger, stretching her gently, scissoring them. My mouth works over her, drinking in every sound she makes. Her hips lift, seeking more pressure, a faster rhythm. I give it to her. My tongue flicks. My fingers pump. Her hands fist in my hair, holding me to her.
I feel her body tighten. Her thighs clamp around my head. A high, keening cry rips from her as she comes against my mouth, her inner walls pulsing around my fingers.
I don’t stop. I work her through it, gentling my touch until she’s a boneless, trembling wreck beneath me.
Only then do I move up her body. I kiss my way back to her mouth, letting her taste herself on my lips. Her eyes are heavy-lidded, unfocused with pleasure.
My shadows rise without my calling them. They seep from my skin, purple-black tendrils that curl into the air. They are gentle tonight. Tender. Weaving patterns above us like a living canopy.
The same power that unmade men this morning now moves like reverence.
Her silver-edged shadows rise from her skin to meet mine. They dance together, twining and separating in a silent, beautiful language only we understand.
I reach between us, guiding myself to her entrance. The head of my cock presses against her wet heat.
“Look at me.”
Her silver gaze locks onto mine. It’s filled with trust. With love. With a fire that matches my own.
I push forward. An inch. A slow, inexorable filling. Her heat envelops me, tight and perfect. I sink deeper. Another inch. Her breath catches. Her nails dig into my shoulders. I bury myself to the hilt, our bodies fully joined.
We are still. Connected. Breathing the same air.
Then I move.
I withdraw almost completely, then slide back in. A slow, dragging stroke that makes us both groan. I set a pace that is pure agony and ecstasy. Each thrust is deep, measured. I angle my hips, rubbing that spot inside her with every inward stroke.
Her eyes flutter shut. “Oh, god…”
“Look at me,” I repeat, my voice strained.
She forces her eyes open. The connection is more intense than the physical joining. I see everything in her gaze. Every fear soothed. Every hope affirmed. Every ounce of love she holds for me.
“I love you,” she gasps. I punch the words out of her with my next thrust. “I love you, I love you…”
“I love you.” My rhythm falters. The sweet, slow torture is building to an impossible peak. “My queen. My heart. Mine.”
“Yours.” Her legs wrap around my waist, pulling me deeper. “Always yours.”
My climax takes me. It rips through my body, blinding and absolute. My release pulses into her, hot and endless.
I feel it through the bond—her climax mixing with mine until I cannot tell where she ends and I begin. Perfect synchronization. Perfect union.
When the light finally fades, we are tangled together, breathing hard, covered in sweat, and glowing with residual magic.
We breathe in ragged unison, our slick-skinned bodies tangled together, still joined. My shadows and hers rest softly over us like a blanket.
I brush sweat-damp hair from her forehead. Her eyes are closed, a small, sated smile on her lips.
I stay inside her, not ready to break the connection. The world outside this room feels very far away.
Her fingers trace a slow pattern on my damp back. “Don’t move yet,” she murmurs, her voice thick with sleep and satisfaction.
“I have no intention of moving,” I say against her hair. “Ever.”
She laughs, a soft, breathy sound that vibrates through both our bodies. “Tomorrow…”
“Does not exist,” I whisper.
“Yeah.” She curls into me. “It doesn’t.”
We lie in comfortable silence.
“Tomorrow,” she says eventually. “When you crown me. What happens?”
“The court binding activates. You will feel it—connection to the Shadow Court itself. To the land. The people. All of it.” I stroke her hair absently. “It can be overwhelming at first.”
“More overwhelming than transformation?”
“Different overwhelming.” I consider. “Transformation changed what you are. The court binding changes what you are responsible for.”
“No pressure, then.”
Despite everything, I smile. “You will be fine. Better than fine.”
She’s quiet for a moment. Then: “Will it hurt?”
“The binding? No, but you’ll feel the weight of it. Thousands of years of Shadow Court history flowing into you all at once.”
She whistles softly. “That’s a lot of history.”
“It is. But you won’t be alone in carrying it.” I pull her closer. “I will be right there. Like always.”
“Like always,” she echoes.
We drift off like that. Tangled together. The shadows content around us. Tomorrow looms, but for now, just this.
Two people who found something worth fighting for in the darkness.
And decided to keep it, no matter what the cost.