Chapter 39 #2
“Not so fast, Dareth. It’s your turn,” she whispered, pulling him closer.
“Let me show you what it means to be wanted.” He smiled a delightful smile, and his eyes were filled with desire.
She loved that she could affect him so much.
He was always composed and in control. She wanted to see what he looked like when he was all hers.
Every inch of him was full of longing and desire for only her.
She touched him with determination. She started at his neck and kissed him with such intent, sucking and swirling her tongue.
She moved across his shoulders and to his chest. His chest muscles were so sculpted and perfect.
She caressed him slowly. Then she moved down his side, kissing and worshiping him with her tongue.
He moaned in response. She kissed all around his navel.
She unbuttoned his pants and could see by his bulge how much he wanted her.
She pulled his pants off. He was fully naked.
She looked him over and admired every inch of his finely honed warrior body.
He was beautiful. She continued kissing around his navel.
He flinched slightly as she moved lower down his body.
She took his cock into her mouth. It was slow at first and then more purposeful.
She stroked him up and down using her hands, and also kept her mouth on his shaft.
She moved to his tip and continued licking and swirling for his pleasure.
Her eyes locked on his. Thorne’s hands fisted the sheets beside her, and he trembled, trying to have some control and restraint.
“Thaelyn, if you keep going, I’ll–” His voice fractured. “I want to have you, all of you.”
She smiled wickedly at him. Then she breathlessly said, “Then have me.”
He hovered above her, both trembling. “Are you sure?” he asked, voice raw. “Because after this, I won’t be able to let you go. It will change me. You’ll be mine forever.”
“Then don’t let me go,” she said. “I want everything with you, and I want all of you, too.”
He laid her back on his bed. He carefully spread her thighs and moved on top of her.
When he entered her, the world fractured around them.
He waited for a moment. He waited for her to adjust to his size.
Thaelyn jerked her hips against him, demanding more.
A slow, dark smile curved on his lips. Then he moved in rhythmic perfection.
His body matched hers perfectly. It wasn’t just passion.
It was fury and flames, pure magic and thunder.
They moved in an aligned rhythm. Their mouths were colliding.
Their hips met together with each thrust. She moaned out his name.
“Thaelyn, I fucking love when you moan my name like that. I love the way your muscles contract tightly around my cock because you want more of me.” With each continued stroke, they gasped each other’s names as they fell into their climax.
They couldn’t get enough of each other. They didn’t stop until well into the early morning.
When they finally stilled, tangled in sweat and sheets and breathless wonder, Thorne whispered into her hair, “You’re not a weakness.
You’re the only thing that makes me whole.
You are it for me.” She curled into his chest, hearing the steady thrum of his heart, and wondered if this moment, if this sanctuary, could hold forever.
They both slept soundly in each other’s arms.
The morning light filtered in through the edge of the high-arched window, soft and golden where it spilled across the stone floor of Thorne’s dorm.
The fire in the hearth had long since burned low, leaving only faint embers that cast a warm glow against the cold gray of morning.
The air was still, quiet in the space between breaths.
Thorne lay on his back, one arm tucked beneath his head, the other resting loosely over the sheet draped across their tangled bodies. His breath was slow and steady. Asleep.
Thaelyn blinked slowly into the light and the warmth of his chest. Her cheek rested against him.
She heard the steady thump of his heartbeat anchoring her to a moment she hadn’t known she needed until now.
She could feel the weight of his arm around her waist, the cool fabric of the sheets curled around her legs, and the lingering ache in her hips, a reminder of the fire they had kindled only hours ago.
She didn’t move. Not yet. Instead, she simply watched him.
His features, usually carved in shadow and guarded silence, were softened by sleep. The tension he always carried in his jaw had melted away, and the slight part in his lips revealed a rare vulnerability. His hair had fallen across his forehead, dark strands brushing over his temples.
Her fingers moved before she could stop them, tracing the curve of his chest, the ridged lines of muscle, and the heat of his skin.
The dragon mark that sprawled across his torso shimmered faintly in the light.
Intricate swirls of black and crimson magic curled like smoke down his ribs and over the curve of his shoulder.
She let her fingertips follow one of the threads, watching the way it spiraled along his bicep and faded into the skin of his forearm.
He shifted slightly in his sleep, and the sheets dipped lower across his waist. Thaelyn’s lips quirked into a private smile.
She dragged her gaze lower, her breath catching a little as her eyes followed the narrow trail of hair from his navel downward, across the sculpted V of his hips, and down where the sheet just barely preserved a sliver of modesty.
Her hand hesitated over his lower abdomen, tracing the deep lines carved there by years of physical discipline.
She remembered the way his body had moved over hers, the strength in his arms, the possessive grip of his hands, the way his voice had broken when he whispered her name. The memory sent a flush of heat rising to her cheeks. Her eyes flicked to his face again. Still asleep.
With mischief curling at the corners of her mouth, she lifted the sheet and admired his body. He was long, large, and thick in all the right places. He stirred. Then stilled.
A slow smirk tugged at his lips before his eyes even opened. “Do you see something you like,” he murmured, voice graveled-deep and rough with sleep, “Or, something you want again?”
She leaned forward and pressed a feather-light kiss to the center of his chest, just over his heart. Thaelyn grinned, looking up at him, her hair spilling over his chest. “I’m still trying to decide,” she whispered.
“Mmm.” He cracked one eye open, the scar at the corner twitching as he looked at her. “Need a closer inspection?”
She arched a brow. “Maybe. Though last night gave me a pretty thorough overview.”
“I can offer a refresher,” he said, reaching up to cup her hips and draw her against him beneath the sheets. The sudden press of him, hard, warm, and very much awake, made her breath hitch.
“You are insatiable,” she said, biting her lip as he leaned in.
“And you, Thae, are my little terror. You are going to make us late to flight drills if you don’t stop looking at me like that,” he growled against her neck.
She laughed, threading her fingers into his hair as she kissed him slowly and deeply.
When they finally pulled apart, breathless and flushed, she rested her forehead against his. “Let’s be late.” She said with a devious smile
He groaned, “You truly are a wicked, my wicked little terror. Don’t tempt me, Stormborn. I’d like to keep you in this bed and never leave.”
Thaelyn rolled her eyes and pushed herself up. “As much as I’m enjoying this, I need to change before drills. And if you keep staring at me like that, I’m never going to make it out of this bed.”
Thorne gave her one final, shameless once-over as she stood and reached for her scattered clothes. “Can’t help it,” he said. “You’re kind of breathtaking when you’re just mine.”
She paused, turning back to him as the words settled between them. No teasing in his expression now. No smirk. Just the truth.
“You are a menace.” She walked back to the bed and kissed him, softly this time. Slow. And then whispered, “But, you are my menace, every single inch of you.” She smirked and walked off towards the bathing chamber.
By the time Thaelyn reached the upper floor of the female cadet wing, her legs ached like she’d run every length of the Scorchfield twice. The stone steps groaned beneath her boots, but it wasn’t exhaustion that slowed her stride. It was him.
Her body still hummed with fire, as if Thorne’s hands lingered at her waist and his lips still claimed hers in the hush of morning shadows. Her hair hung loose, and her lips remained swollen, kiss-bruised, tingling with the memory of a hunger that had begun as a spark and risen into a storm.
She shoved the door open, trying not to look like she’d just wandered out of some moonlit fever dream.
Inside, the dorm was warm with the scent of lavender soap and steel. Iri sat cross-legged on her bed, humming tunelessly as she polished her throwing knives with unnerving affection. She looked up the moment the door creaked and smirked.
“Well, well, well.” Iri set the blade down with theatrical reverence. “Look who returns from her secret tryst with the Prince of Smolder.”
Thaelyn rolled her eyes and kicked off her boots, aiming for casual. “You’re impossible.”
“That’s not a denial,” Iri pointed out, springing to her feet with predator’s grace. “You’ve got ‘he laid siege to me against a bed’ hair. That hair’s seen combat, sister.”
From the other side of the room, Feyra looked up from where she lounged upside down on her bunk, legs propped up against the wall like a lazy cat. “You were gone all night.”
“Was I?” Thaelyn muttered. “I didn’t notice.”
“Yes, now give us some details,” Feyra replied, arching a golden brow. That’s not ‘I hung out and talked hair, that’s someone tangled it with intent hair.”
“Insufferable,” Thaelyn groaned, dragging a hand over her flushed face as she collapsed onto her bed. Her pillow swallowed the sound of her voice. “I hate both of you.”
“No, you don’t,” Iri said sweetly, crawling across the floor like a shark scenting blood. “Come sit, and tell us the juicy details. Did he finally admit his undying love? Or just pin you to the bed and ravish you all night long?”
Thaelyn lifted her head just far enough to glare. “You read too many romance scrolls.”
Feyra twirled a lock of her hair around one finger, her grin feline. “She’s avoiding. That means it was good.”
Iri gasped in mock offense. “He didn’t ravish you against the training dummies, did he? Because I am never touching one again.”
“No,” Thaelyn said quickly. Then, under her breath, “Not against the dummies.”
Feyra bolted upright so fast she hit her head on the bottom of Vaeryn’s bunk. “You did not!”
“I didn’t say anything!” Thaelyn protested, laughing despite herself.
“She so did,” Vaeryn crowed. “That is the sound of a woman who has been thoroughly and gloriously ruined. Look at that glow. That’s not just morning light. That’s post-something cosmic happened radiance.”
Thaelyn buried her face in the pillow again, muffling, “It was amazing.”
That did it. The three girls shrieked in perfect unison, an unholy blend of glee, horror, and victorious triumph.
Feyra launched a pillow missile across the room. “Give us details before I explode! Did he go slow and loving, or was it more ‘drag me across the battlefield and make me forget my name’ kind of energy?”
Thaelyn peeked up with a dazed, almost dreamy smile that startled even her. “It was– intense. Like something ancient inside us had finally snapped free. We couldn’t stop or get enough.”
The mood shifted like a flicker of flame snuffed by wind. Iri’s smile faded, her eyes narrowing with quiet understanding. “So it wasn’t just lust.”
Thaelyn nodded slowly. “No. It’s more. There was heat, yes, but underneath it, there’s a pulse deep inside my chest, as a hunger echoed through us. Like being claimed by something older.”
Feyra's teasing grin vanished. “The dragons.”
Thaelyn whispered, her fingers tracing the hem of her sleeve. “Nyxariel speaks of the old bond between them, the Prime Bond. She says it can happen between the riders.”
“Are you afraid that continuing to be with him may turn into a prime bond?” Iri asked, tone suddenly serious.
“No,” Thaelyn said immediately. “I trust him. Even when he’s maddening or arrogant, we would know or talk about it before it happened. He did tell me I was it for him.”