Chapter Twenty-One #3
His tongue works me with expert skill, finding every sensitive spot, every place that makes me gasp, arch, and beg.
He sends a shiver of coldness sweeping up me, and then tempers it with his warmth, making the sensation an overload of pleasure.
He slides two fingers inside me, curling them just right, his fingers like icicles, and I shatter, the orgasm ripping through me with enough force that I cry out his name, my fingers fisting in the sheets as wave after wave of pleasure crash over me.
But he doesn’t stop.
He works me through it and beyond, building the tension again until I’m trembling and desperate, pulling at his shoulders, needing him inside me, needing to be filled, claimed, and completely, undeniably, and utterly consumed.
“Raze, please,” I beg, pride abandoned in the face of overwhelming need. “I need you. Now.”
He rises over me, positioning himself at my entrance, and the look in his eyes is pure possession, pure claiming, pure mine. “You’re sure?” he asks one last time, giving me the choice even now.
“Yes,” I breathe. “Claim me. Make me yours.”
He thrusts into me in one powerful stroke, filling me completely, and we both groan at the sensation.
Heat and ice collide as our bodies connect, his power bleeding into me, mixing with whatever wild magic I carry until the air around us shimmers with energy.
Frost forms on the windows. Heat shimmers between us.
The room itself responds to our union, reality bending around the force of what we’ve become together.
He doesn’t move gently. There’s nothing careful about this.
He pulls almost all the way out and slams back in, setting a brutal rhythm that has me gasping and clawing at his back, meeting every thrust with equal force.
This isn’t lovemaking. This is possession.
This is reclaiming what my mother tried to steal.
This is confirming that we belong to each other in a way that transcends memory, magic, and everything.
“Mine,” he snarls the word again against my throat, hips snapping forward with devastating force. “Say it. Tell me who you belong to.”
“Yours!” I cry out, nails raking down his back hard enough to draw blood. “I’m yours, Raze. Only yours. Always yours.”
His teeth find the junction between my neck and shoulder, and he bites down, marking me, branding me as his in the most primal way possible. The pain mixes with pleasure, pushing me higher, and I bite him back, my teeth sinking into his shoulder muscle, tasting ice, fire, and dragon on my tongue.
He roars, the sound echoing through the room as his thrusts become harder, deeper, more desperate.
His hand slides between us, fingers finding the bundle of nerves that has me seeing stars, and the dual sensation pushes me over the edge.
I climax with a scream, my body clenching around him, pulling him deeper as the orgasm tears through me with devastating force.
“Fuck, Roxy!” He follows immediately, burying himself to the hilt before he spills inside me, his roar of completion mixing with mine, heat and ice exploding between us in a rush of power that cracks the frost on the windows.
For a moment, we aren’t two bodies at all. We’re one—bonded, claimed. His fire slips into my quiet magic, curling through it until the line between him and me disappears.
When awareness returns, we’re both trembling, sweat-slicked and breathing hard, still joined as he collapses partially beside me, careful not to crush me with his weight but unwilling to separate our bodies completely.
“Mine,” he murmurs again, softer this time, his hand cupping my face with surprising gentleness. “You’re mine, Firecracker. And I’m never letting you go again.”
“Yours,” I confirm, my voice rough and satisfied. “And you’re mine, Frosted Tyrant. Don’t forget that part.”
His laugh is low and rich, the sound vibrating through me where we’re still connected. “Never.” He kisses me, slow and deep. “You’re stuck with me now. For better or worse. Until the end of everything.”
“Good,” I whisper against his mouth. “Because I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
We lie tangled together in sheets damp with sweat and power, his arms wrapped around me like he’s afraid I’ll disappear if he lets go. I trace patterns across his chest, feeling his heartbeat beneath my palm, steady, strong, and alive, matching the rhythm of my own.
“So… this is your bedroom?” I ask with a smirk.
He grins, leaning in to kiss me briefly. “It’s yours now too, Firecracker.”
A slow smile crosses my face at the thought until another slightly more terrifying one slips into focus. “They’re really coming,” I whisper into the darkness, reality creeping back in now that the desperate need has been satisfied. “The fae… tonight.”
“Let them,” Raze murmurs, his hand sliding up my spine, fingers tangling in my hair as he pulls me closer. “They can try to take you. They’ll fail.”
I want to believe him. I want to trust that the club can withstand whatever is coming, that love, loyalty, and supernatural power are enough to hold back the tide. But fear still coils in my chest, quiet and persistent, whispering that some battles can’t be won with strength alone.
“What if they’re stronger than you think?” I ask, hating how small my voice sounds. “What if—”
He cuts me off with another kiss, fierce and possessive, silencing my doubts with the kind of certainty that only comes from three centuries of surviving impossible odds.
“Then we burn them down together,” he declares against my lips, eyes blazing with fire and ice and absolute conviction. “Nobody… nobody takes what’s mine.”
Outside, the forest whispers warnings.
The fae are gathering.
War is coming.
But wrapped in Raze’s arms, bonded and finally home, I find myself believing that maybe, just maybe, love is the most powerful magic of all.
Even against impossible odds.