Of Lust and Lunacy (Harbingers)

Chapter 1

CHAPTER ONE

ARKEN

When I woke the next morning, I found myself immediately enveloped in silky heat and the alluring scent of citrus and cloves.

Fates. Did last night actually happen? Was all of that real?

“Good morning, sweetheart,” a rough, low, and familiar voice rasped against the shell of my ear. The man it belonged to slid his arm around my waist, tugging me closer with ease. “I missed you.”

Well, that answered that question.

A strange blend of fear and relief surfaced as I stole a quick glance out the window and discovered the midday sun already hung high overhead.

I had most certainly overslept—but godsdamn, what a way to wake up.

As Kieran’s arms encircled me, drawing me flush against his muscled frame, an intense burst of feverish longing and carnal need joined the fold.

The fear, relief, and desire melted into contentment as Kieran began running his fingertips gently up and down my arm in a soothing, rhythmic motion.

“Missed me?” I murmured, shifting my hips to sink even deeper into the warm comfort of his soft sheets and hard body—hard in more places than one. “What, in the hour or two I’ve been sleeping in?”

“Three hours and forty-three minutes, if we’re being exact,” Kieran countered. “It’s almost noon, Little Conduit.”

Well then. Thank the gods I don’t have any classes today.

“If I didn’t know any better,” he continued, “I’d say someone kept you up awfully late last night.”

“Mhmm,” I replied. “But of course, you do know better. I was a good girl and followed Fen’s orders to the letter. I took my tinctures on time and got plenty of rest.”

“You were a very good girl last night,” Kieran agreed, nipping at my earlobe and sending a wave of gooseflesh down my arms.

I pressed my thighs together, already eager for another round or two…or three. But Fates, we’d have to pace ourselves at some point…Wouldn’t we?

“You must have been terribly bored all this time, Captain,” I observed with a wry smile. “You’re an early riser. How ever did you pass the time?”

He chuckled softly, burying his nose in my hair and breathing deep. “I’m not sure you actually want the answer to that question, Asher.”

I wriggled around in his clutches, tangling up the bedsheets as I turned myself to face him.

“Now what in the name of the gods does that mean, Vistarii?” I accused, attempting to narrow my eyes in some semblance of a stern expression.

My valiant attempt at being threatening was immediately countered by the sight of his face, that beautiful glacial gaze catching mine and leaving me briefly breathless.

A good night’s rest appeared to have softened some of Kieran’s features…

but not nearly so much as the gleaming, genuine smile that spread across his face in response to my attempt at pouting.

“I was watching you sleep,” he confessed softly, tucking a stray lock of curls behind my ear.

“The whole time?!” I asked incredulously.

His face remained soft, unapologetic, and damn near shameless as he replied, shrugging. “Perhaps.”

I groaned. “We need to find you a hobby.”

A low chuckle rumbled through his chest. “On the contrary, I think this one might suit me just fine.”

I felt a pang in my chest over the unspoken promise—the implication that more mornings like this might occur.

“Staring at women while they sleep is not a hobby, Kieran,” I teased, attempting to disregard the conflicting emotions bubbling up as the realities of last night began sinking in.

“Not women,” Kieran corrected. “A woman. Just one. Just you.”

This man had spent hours on end—literal hours—fucking the sanity straight out of my body last night, exploring every last inch of it without hesitation, and yet he still found new ways to make me blush.

“I missed you too,” I whispered, the confession feeling strange as I traced patterns against the broad expanse of his chest with my fingertips.”

“What, while you slept?”

I nodded, cheeks warming beneath the weight of this exchange and what it truly meant to me.

“Gods, this is…” Kieran trailed off, the rime of his gaze affixing itself somewhere distant.

I slipped my fingers through his hair, running my nails against his scalp with affection, giving him time to drift wherever his mind had wandered. His locks were so damn soft, the silkiness of his raven-black strands all sorts of tousled and mussed from last night’s various…activities.

“This is…?” I eventually prompted, surprised to see him bite his lip nervously before glancing back at me.

“So much better than I’d let myself imagine,” Kieran breathed, his eyes brimming with an awestruck sort of affection. “I thought I was still dreaming when I woke up next to you.”

As did I, Captain. As did I.

“Yeah?” I breathed back, leaning in closer.

“Very much so.”

Gods, he wasn’t wrong. This was more than I could’ve possibly dreamed of, reality eclipsing even my most furtive of fantasies.

We had held back so much, and for so long, that now it was only full-body exhaustion and a hint of rising anxieties that prevented me from launching myself on top of him and riding what I knew was already hard for me.

It was an effort to keep my eyes trained on his face, only his face, because if I let my gaze wander… I was done for.

But even in my periphery, I could see the blossoms of pink and purple, the pretty little bruises and bitemarks I’d left littered across his throat.

And I knew damn well that for every mark I’d left on his golden brown skin, he’d left at least three more on mine.

Hel, I could feel them, warm and aching.

The man had that effect in multiple places, it would seem.

A breath caught in my chest at the notion Kieran had claimed me last night. Fucking finally. And I had claimed him right back.

“Mine,” I had panted deliriously in his bathing suite, bent over the tub and meeting his harsh thrusts with equal force as I clung to the porcelain. We had failed in our pursuit to rinse off, chasing the sixth or seventh orgasm in our frantic fervor. “This dick is fucking mine.”

“Yes,” he’d crooned back, bending forward so his lips had brushed my ear. “All yours, Asher. Only yours. And you take it so fucking well.”

Another burst of anxiety surfaced, my cheeks heating with embarrassment as I recalled the assertion, feeling rather exposed by the searing truth in the light of day.

I’d clearly been referring to his cock—absolutely lust-addled and sex-drunk from the flawless fit of the damned thing—though even now, in the privacy of my own thoughts, I could admit I wanted to claim so much more than that.

Fear began to ricochet through my veins, not only at the notion of losing this but the possibility of having it, which somehow left me just as nervous. My breath hitched in my throat before I released a ragged exhale.

Fucking Hel, woman. Get a hold of yourself.

“What are you thinking?” Kieran murmured, running a calloused finger across my collarbone with lazy, unhurried fascination.

Please don’t leave me. I don’t want to lose you over this. I flinched at the raw honesty of the intrusive thought.

“Last night,” I murmured instead, my voice sounding more wistful than I had intended.

If my tone concerned Kieran, he didn’t show it. His fingers simply continued their patient foxtrot across my skin.

“What about it?” he asked softly.

The way last night felt like so much more than sex.

The way I now know, deep within my bones, that you’ve ruined me for any other.

The way I know I’ll never be able to fall into bed casually with anyone else, man or woman, without comparing them to you.

Because the moment you slid inside me, it was the first time in my life I’d ever felt whole, and now I feel safer in your arms than anywhere else in this realm.

I’m afraid of what I want from you, what I fear I might need from you now that I’ve tasted just a drop of this exquisite drug.

I want more than I deserve—more than I could ever bear to ask for.

But I didn’t dare confess any of those words out loud, not now. Not…yet.

“Do you regret it?” I asked instead.

Kieran looked incredulous as he snorted. “Fuck no. Do you?”

“No, but…” I paused, biting down on my lower lip. “Do you think we should stop?”

Should we quit while we’re ahead? Just say that we finally fucked and got it out of our system? Is this where we move on and pretend like something between us hasn’t shifted irrevocably?

“Again, fuck no,” Kieran said without hesitation. “Unless, I mean…Do you want to stop, Arken?”

His eyes were earnest, searching mine for answers, hunting for the subtle truths he knew I kept locked behind my teeth. He knew me too well. He saw straight through my bullshit, every godsdamned time.

“I…I don’t, but—”

“But nothing, Asher,” Kieran interrupted.

No, not nothing. Everything. Everything is at stake here, Kieran. There is so much at risk. There is so much to lose…at least for me, if not for you.

“We made those rules for a reason,” I whispered, the words feeling like agony ripped from my tongue.

“Fuck the rules,” Kieran growled, one hand cupping my jaw to tilt my chin upward, demanding I look him in the eye. “Please, Arken. Let’s try to pause the overthinking for just a moment, okay? Breathe with me.”

Following his lead, I took a few slow, measured breaths.

“Thank you, sweetheart. Now, answer me this: What do you want right now?”

“It’s not that simple, Kier,” I protested. It really wasn’t. “That doesn’t—we still shouldn’t—”

He cut me off again. “That’s not what I asked. Consequences be damned, Arken. If nothing else mattered—what would you want, right now? At this very moment?”

Abyss take me, this man was maddening. I was trying so desperately to be the voice of reason, to cut our losses here.

My grasp on old boundaries was already tenuous at best because the answer ran through my veins.

It was in the air I breathed, the aether I drew upon—the answer had carved itself into my body and bones with every kiss, every touch.

He had no idea what it truly meant when I whispered my response, but I offered it to him anyway. It felt cruel to deny it.

“I want you,” I breathed.

“Then take me, Little Conduit,” Kieran said with a gentle sort of authority, simultaneously a plea and a command. He lifted his hand from my jaw to brush his knuckles ever-so-gently across my cheek. “It’s as simple as that.”

It’s as simple as that.

The words echoed in my mind, a pleasant humming reverberation.

I let the levity of such a statement fill my chest, imagining the absence of complication, the ease…

I had always loved that about him. How easy it was to be near Kieran, the way I never seemed to tire of his presence.

His friendship seemed to lift burdens I hadn’t known I was carrying, his very existence taking a profound weight off my shoulders.

There was a certain simplicity in that, I could not deny it. And yet…

“Nothing about us is simple, Kier,” I whispered.

“It could be,” he replied softly, still stroking my cheek. “If we let it.”

Just let it be simple, Arken. Just this once.

At the end of the day, I knew I wasn’t strong enough.

I couldn’t let him go, couldn’t walk away from this if I tried—and so, I leaned in for a kiss, brushing my still-swollen lips against his in gentle request. His tongue coasted lasciviously over my lower lip, welcoming the interruption to our conversation.

My lips parted, inviting him to take things further…

So further he went. The frantic fervor of last night came rushing back as soon as that low groan escaped his mouth, and I found myself needily grinding up against his thigh in search of friction and pressure.

“Fuck, Arken,” he rasped. “Aren’t you tired of me yet?”

“Not even close,” I murmured against his mouth, hooking my leg around one of his.

How could I possibly tire of this? Of him?

“Thank the gods,” he said as I shifted myself, straddling his lap so I could kiss him harder, deeper, and longer.

So that I might moan freely while he palmed my breasts, an appreciative smirk crawling up his mouth as I began to rock my hips, coating his cock with the slick arousal and heat that had been pooling between my legs all morning.

“Thank the fucking gods,” he said again, the words an echo of where this all began.

Thank the fucking gods, indeed.