Chapter 55
Mora
“Yes!” Mora cried, tossing her head back, her inner walls clenching around the Fae’s thick length.
His lips on her breast, those sharp teeth nipping before he kissed and sucked the small ache away, while his fingers circled the apex of her thighs.
Her toes curled, her mind blissfully lost in an endless sea of pleasure.
Demons forgotten, just like she’d asked.
He’d meant it when he said he’d give her anything she wanted.
It was perfect. He was fucking perfect.
The bark at her back was somehow smooth, her skin unmarred despite the Fae’s deep, rhythmic thrusts.
She felt every glorious inch of him, filling her so deliciously.
Gliding through wet, swollen flesh, and wholly possessing her.
When she first saw him, she wondered if this were possible—he was massive—but he’d driven her over the edge with his tongue so many times she was dripping, her body weeping for him. Welcoming the divine invasion.
Mora wasn’t kidding when she’d asked if he was a god. As he drove his cock into her again, hitting a spot that had stars dancing in her vision, she felt certain he was.
This fantasy was everything she needed.
“Do you feel that, Little Witch?” he asked, those glittering eyes watching her with such reverence.
His fingers slipping lower to feel himself gliding through her sex.
A needy groan all she could offer in response.
She gripped his broad shoulders, nails digging into him and piercing the skin, a pleased curse on his lips.
“Do you feel how perfectly you stretch around me?” he gritted out. “How we were made for one another?”
“Yes,” she sighed, her core tightening, pleasant shivers running up her spine. She meant it. This was different. Mora craved the pinch of his teeth, loved the bite of his fingers squeezing her ass while he pulled her against him. The press of his slick skin on hers setting her aflame.
Mora couldn’t catch her breath. He consumed her, his grip on her nearly bruising, but that possessive touch felt... good.
The Fae’s words soothed an ache she’d been carrying since the first day smoke bled from her pores.
Tell me to stop. Tell me you want me to let go and I will.
He’d said them unprompted, when there was no promise he’d have her at all, prepared for her to walk away.
Offering her autonomy and control, even when he was acting as the dominant one.
Because choosing to submit should never come at the cost of her power; with the right person, her wants, her needs, always mattered. Her desire always respected.
One word and this would end. Even now. That knowledge alone allowed her to be free and shameless with him, trusting his every touch. Unafraid. Eager to give herself wholly to this carnal hunger.
When he affirmed that all he wanted was her, and only the pieces she was willing to give, any remaining hesitation faded. It was a cruel twist of fate; this was a dream, but she savored every moment.
Mora curled her legs tighter around him, heat building in her core as she rolled her hips, grinding against him while he slammed into her.
His tongue slid over her collarbone before the Fae kissed and nipped his way to her throat, and Mora bent her head to the side, savoring the feel of his teeth.
Shivering while those sharp canines scraped over her skin.
“You have no idea how badly I want to mark every inch of you,” he breathed against her throat. “I want you screaming beneath me when I bite you”—he tilted her hips, thrusting at a new angle that made her gasp—“knowing exactly who’s fucking you. Crying out my name while I make you mine.”
“Please,” Mora whimpered, jerking when his fingers slipped back to the apex of her thighs, circling and stroking until her body quivered.
Dragging his tongue up to her ear, he groaned before whispering, “Would you like that, Little Witch? Coming on my cock while I sink my teeth into your throat? Knowing exactly why you want me so fucking badly?”
The caress of his deep voice, his hot breath fluttering against her skin, was all too much. They panted, sharing their breaths as they neared the cusp of their pleasure, ready to tumble over the edge.
“Yes!” she cried, her inner muscles squeezing him tightly, a new wave of arousal coating his length. “Gods, yes. Please!” She’d become ravenous. Mindless. Wanting everything he offered, the thought of him biting down and marking her pure ecstasy.
“Fuck!” The Fae tipped his head back, a pleased growl rumbling in his throat.
Moonlight caressing his soft, olive skin, giving him an otherworldly glow.
He came undone, driving into her harder and faster, his insatiable fingers strumming her taut bud in unrelenting circles and demanding she fall apart with him.
The tension in her core tightened, back bowing while Mora rolled her hips as fast as she could, meeting his every punishing thrust.
It was filthy, the wet sound of their bodies coming together, their moans and pants curling through the meadow. Their tree creaked, the golden aura pulsing while an erratic wind twisted around them, carrying the song of their pleasure with it.
“That’s it, Little Witch, come for me again,” the Fae purred. “Milk my cock dry. Claim what’s yours.”
Dear gods! Their gazes met, starlight enraptured by amber, his dark stare ensnaring her while she unraveled. A pleasured scream burst from her lungs, her core spasming around him, gripping him as if she might keep him there forever.
The male fucked her through her bliss until his thrusts grew ragged, roaring her name. Planting himself deep. Heat flooding her center. His lips pressed against her throat, sharp pants tickling her skin while he breathed her in.
Warmth spread through her veins, gold pulsing behind her eyes—she could almost see it, a gilded tether stretching far beyond herself, seeping through the Fae to twist around his heart like roots. Like it could grow into something more.
Mora melted into his hold, her head on his shoulder, damp curls sticking to her brow.
Her half-lidded eyes roved the wall of trees surrounding them—they swayed, their branches curving toward them as if Mora and the Fae were the center of their world.
There were no hints of azure haunting the shadows, but a small part of her—a wicked part—hoped Dother watched.
Prayed he saw Mora taking what she wanted. Being worshiped as she deserved to be.
That was all the thought she gave him—no one could take this moment from her.
In the Fae’s arms, it was hard to think of anything else. He enraptured her. Surrounded her. The soft, earthy breeze, coated in mint, summer rain, sweat, and sex, filled her lungs until all Mora could feel or taste was him.
Sliding her palms down to his hard pecs, Mora licked the sweat from his throat, the pleasant rumble in his chest calling to some feral part of herself she hadn’t known was there.
Without thought, she sucked and nibbled on his skin until she was certain it would bruise, wishing she could do more.
Salivating at the thought of tasting his blood.
“Is my Little Witch territorial?” he asked, a satisfied grin tugging on his lips.
His cock somehow hardening once more. “Did you want to mark me too?” He shifted his hips, pulling nearly all the way out, his seed dripping down her thighs.
“Would it please you?” he asked, thrusting languidly to the hilt, “marking me as yours, knowing no other would dare touch me?” Another lazy thrust.
Mora tried to roll her hips, but he’d pinned her so firmly against the tree all she could do was take whatever pleasure he gave her. She was so wet she could hear it every time he moved, his heavy sack slapping against her rear when he subjected her to another slow, hard thrust.
Running her fingers through his soft, black hair, Mora marveled at the gold in the depths of his gaze. It was like basking in the glow of the heavens—she was sure she could get lost there. That the Fae could consume her whole, and she’d wish she had more to give.
“It would please me,” Mora breathed, shivering as he pulled his hips back ever-so-slowly, “if you’d fuck me harder.”
“Are you sure, Little Witch?” he asked, driving back into her. A soft moan slipped free, his cock hitting the perfect spot. His hands found her waist, clutching her to him as he pulled her away from the tree.
Gentle fingers traced her spine while he moved through the meadow, settling on a lush patch of grass peppered with wildflowers and glinting daisies that hadn’t been there before.
He laid Mora down carefully, like she was something precious, threading his fingers through her dark curly hair and pressing his forehead to hers.
“You are worthy of worship, Little Witch. Of someone who’s as willing to take their time with you as they are in ravaging you like an animal.
” He stared at her as if she were everything.
As if he hoped to drown in her gaze, happy to tumble beneath the surface and bask in the glory of her soul.
Tears brimmed in Mora’s eyes, her heart slowing to a steady thrum, each beat igniting that warm feeling within her.
As if her blood sang for him—lines of gold traced her veins, pulsing on her hands and into his skin wherever she touched him.
Even the beast in her chest purred, her magic close to the surface. His to take if he so chose.
The male slid a gentle thumb over her cheek, wiping a tear away. “Don’t cry.” That deep voice was a gentle song calling to her, the cadence a melody soothing all the jagged, broken pieces of her being. A music she wished to hear endlessly.
“Why do you look at me like that?” she asked.
“Like what?”
“Like you know me.” Mora closed her eyes and took a slow deep breath, filling her lungs with mint and petrichor. “Like I’m everything.”
Like you actually see me.
She didn’t say that part out loud but knew he understood when his face softened.
Castellan was a friend, but he still saw Mora as a way to the crown.
To Eris, Mora was power. Something with teeth, to tame and to conquer.
And to Dother, Mora was... his Treasure.
To the Fae, however, in her wildest dreams, Mora was simply Mora. A Little Witch. A woman he truly saw, never balking at the fire in her eyes.
This male didn’t look at Mora as a means to an end, or a way to empower himself. He didn’t wish to fuck her, marry her, and wear her crown.
The Fae only wished to make love to her in their meadow.
“You are everything,” he breathed, pressing the softest kiss on her lips, moving with slow, sensuous strokes.
Mora groaned as he moved, pushing back into her while his tongue swept through her mouth.
She welcomed him, wrapping her legs around his waist to pull him deeper. Each slow drag stealing her breath.
Something sparked between them in that moment, an intense feeling she didn’t quite understand building in her heart. Gold-tinted moonlight growing brighter in her periphery.
“I see you, Little Witch,” he murmured, teeth grazing her bottom lip. He kissed her again, a slow, desperate possession. “One day I hope you see me too.” Those words were so quiet, spoken against her skin like a prayer.
Mora’s eyes burned. She squeezed them shut, tossing her head back and panting while a new wave of delicious tension built in her core.
“Look at me,” he breathed, kissing the tip of her nose and cupping her cheek.
It was impossible to deny the plea in his voice. Glowing amber met an endless night sky, its starlight brighter than before. Filled with an adoration that pulled at the blackened roots clutching her heart until they loosened their hold.
“This is why I look at you like you’re everything,” he said, and she wondered what he saw. If there was something festering in his soul too, something that could only be gentled by her stare.
Mora wasn’t sure she understood what was brewing between them in this dreamscape, but each drive of his hips felt like heaven. And, for the first time in a long while, she felt human. Like herself. Free from the clutches of her curse and the cruelty of the Fates.
It was like coming undone. Like being unwoven into smoke, plucked apart piece by piece until she could barely hold on.
Except the Fae’s touch, the way he kissed her so reverently as he pushed her toward paradise, put her back together.
The look in his eyes promising he’d do it over and over again, whenever she fell apart.
Mora cried out as the growing tension reached its tipping point, ecstasy crashing over her like a tidal wave. Pulling her under. Stealing her breath while her entire body grew taut, squeezing the Fae tight as she unraveled.
He moaned against her lips, arms curling around her and pulling her slick to his chest while he planted himself deep, filling her with his seed.
“So perfectly mine,” he purred, sliding himself through their shared pleasure.
She stared up at him, shivering while their bliss coursed through her blood. Utterly weightless. Overwhelmed by the triumph and awe of their joining.
It was a dream, but Mora couldn’t help her smile.
This moment was hers.
Her choice.
Her pleasure.
With a male who felt like home.
“Can we do that again?” she asked, cheeks darkening.
He laughed softly, propping himself up on his elbows. “Do you want more, Little Witch?” he asked, brushing a stray curl away from her face and tucking it behind her ear.
“Yes!” Mora leaned into his touch, reveling in the feel of his fingers against her cheek.
All this time, she’d been so hungry for it, but too afraid to try.
Too scarred from the echo of unwanted fingerprints burned into her skin.
This was what it felt like to be free with the right person, and she wasn’t ready to walk away yet.
“I want whatever you’re willing to give me. ”
“Everything,” he murmured, thumb brushing over her cheekbone. “I’m willing to give you everything.”
When her smile widened, the Fae rolled onto his back, holding Mora on top of him, his hands gravitating to her hips.
She sat up, her head tipping back at the feel of him—he was so much deeper like this, filling her in a way that had her gasping already.
But then she saw the meadow. Daisies glittered all around them, peeking out through the grass, dancing with the wildflowers as the wind weaved between their stems. And above the Mother Tree bloomed, Her branches heavy with thick, golden leaves, each bough tipped in their direction.
It was breathtaking, as the Fae promised, though it felt as if they were watching.
Waiting.
But for what?