Chapter 70
Zadriel
“Little Witch?” Zadriel knelt by Mora’s side, his fingers grazing her face.
Her eyelids fluttered, lashes tickling her cheeks while she stirred—in their meadow, she looked otherworldly, the golden aura above lovingly brushing against her radiant, brown skin.
Giving her an angelic glow. He could stare at her for a lifetime and never have his fill.
“Hmm?” she mumbled, brilliant gems of amber staring up at him when she opened her eyes. A thick, moss-covered root from the Mother Tree cushioned her head, her bed a cluster of sparkling daisies. “We match,” she breathed, pressing a hand to his chest.
Zadriel looked down at his robe, the gold-dusted, crisp white garment open to reveal his warm, olive-toned skin. He didn’t mind when Mora followed his gaze, a want in her eyes as they roved over his muscled pecs. “That we do.”
“I feel like I’ve been waiting centuries,” she murmured, her face darkening.
“For what?”
“For you to find me.” She smiled, but it was delicate.
Sad. The sorrow on her face gripping his heart.
“Somehow, this is the only place that feels like home. You—this version of you—feels like home.” Her throat bobbed, her next words so quiet he wondered if she hadn’t wanted him to hear.
“I need something that feels like home.”
Zadriel brought his hands to hers, threading their fingers together and reveling in the warmth pulsing beneath her touch. “I live for these dreams too, Little Witch. My waking hours are hell, but these shared moments with you... even if they’re not real, I cherish them.”
“The waking world is a nightmare,” she agreed, leaning closer, her hand slipping lower. “There are many things I wish to escape from, especially tonight.”
“What do you need?”
“Hold me,” Mora breathed, pressing her lips to his collarbone.
She kissed her way up his throat, the teasing graze of her teeth awakening a wild instinct within him.
Gods, he wanted her to bite down. To break the skin and stain her lips with his blood.
To mark him as hers, though he knew this could never be their reality.
Was it so wrong to dream?
“You’ve been sent by the Fates to torment me,” he rumbled when she nipped him.
Mora’s laugh was a song he longed to listen to until the stars fell from the sky. “I wish that were my purpose.” She sighed, resting her head on his shoulder. “A life as your tormentor would be easier on my heart... Though, if I found you in the waking world, I doubt things would be this pleasant.”
He curled his arms around her, his cheek resting on her crown. “There are many things you don’t understand, Little Witch.”
“I understand enough.” Her face was grim when she trailed her finger across his throat, a sting following the scrape of her nail. “You made your intentions clear the night we met. Not to mention...” She trailed off, her focus drifting to the bramble
Zadriel cupped her cheek, pulling her gaze back to his, her soft, brown curls tickling his fingers. “Give me your words, Little Witch.” He longed to run his hands through her hair. To pull her closer and lose himself in her. To escape together.
“I’d rather not speak of it.” Mora tipped her head back to stare up at him with pleading eyes. “Something horrible happened and I’m finding...” Her lower lip wavered. “I don’t know how to go on.”
The slow, gentle swipe of his thumb on her cheek had her leaning further into his touch. “You don’t need to know how to go on, love. All you need to do is keep breathing.”
She huffed a tired laugh through her nose.
“Did I say something funny?” he asked.
“No, I only wish it were that simple.”
“Can’t it be?” He kissed her brow. Softly.
Reverently. His other hand gently squeezing her fingers.
“I’ve lost so much, sometimes I too don’t know how to go on, but tomorrow always comes, even when I’m not sure how to move through it.
Time doesn’t need you to have answers, Mora, it simply needs you to be here. Breathing.”
The breeze stilled while Mora mulled over his words, darkness fading behind her eyes. Amber glowing brighter. “What if I want to disappear? To pretend. To lose myself in you again, if only for a few hours. What if that helps me breathe through it?”
Mora crawled into Zadriel’s lap, hands splaying on his chest. She didn’t need to say another word—Zadriel pulled her closer and tipped his head to the side, his lips finding hers in a slow, gentle caress, though she had other plans.
The moment Mora kissed him back, her teeth pinched his bottom lip, igniting something within him.
The warmth pulsing around his heart heating further.
Consuming him until all he wanted—all he knew—was her, every breath filling his lungs with lavender, kissed by crackling embers and a new hint of pine.
A piece of him, he realized, as if their scents were already beginning to blend.
He smiled against her lips, savoring her taste. Grateful for this imagined reprieve. His hands splayed on her back, grip tightening, the thin material of her dress bunching in his fist—Mora’s breasts slipped free, the soft globes pressing against his chest.
She gasped, and he tangled his tongue with hers, unable to hold back his satisfied rumble.
Her blissful sigh rose to meet it, and he inhaled it greedily.
Wanting to consume all of her sweet little sounds.
To taste her moans and drink her whimpers until he knew no other flavor.
She shivered against him, her hands sliding over his jaw until they ran through his dark hair, curling around the strands and tugging, his Little Witch as eager to consume him.
Zadriel’s palm trailed down her back, lingering on the generous curve of her rear, squeezing when her hips moved, her core grinding against his hard length. Damn the gods, he needed these trousers off. Now.
Gold glittered on her skirt, the white material bunching around his wrist when his fingers returned to their exploration, lazily tracing her thigh. Inching ever higher. He pulled back, a silent question on his face.
A dark flush painted her warm, brown cheeks, heat burning in her eyes. Her lips swollen and lush. Mora nodded, her fingers digging into his scalp as she pulled him into another demanding kiss, spreading her legs in invitation.
Zadriel slid his palm up her thigh until he reached her warm slit, his touch greeted by exquisite wetness.
“Would you like to play a game?” he asked, nipping at her bottom lip. “Would that help you escape?”
“What kind of—ah.” Mora’s breath caught when he moved his fingers in slow, tantalizing circles, teasing the aching, swollen bud at her center. Her head fell back, curls falling over her shoulder to reveal her full breasts—fuck, they were perfect, her dark brown nipples peaked, begging to be tasted.
He thrust a finger into her center, savoring her breathy moan.
“Sing for me first, Little Witch, and then I’ll tell you.
” Zadriel’s thumb twirled that sensitive bundle of nerves until she whimpered, dipping to kiss her throat.
Nipping and sucking on her flesh, so tempted to sink his teeth in and break the skin.
But he stopped himself, raking his canines down her luminous body until he reached her right breast instead.
The heat of his mouth found her nipple as he added a second finger, stretching her. Preparing her for him. All the while, he swirled his tongue in tandem with the slow swipe of his thumb.
“Oh gods,” she cried, her thighs shaking. Nails biting into his chest. Mewling so pleasantly when he added a third.
“I’m the only god you need to think of tonight,” he whispered against her breasts, before biting down.
His sharp teeth pinched, the bite of pain a perfect contrast to the rising pleasure building in her core.
His canine nicking her skin, a single drop of blood trickling over his tongue, a sweet, burnt sugar taste lingering in its wake.
It was almost familiar. Almost like sap, but there was something else there.
Something calling him, tugging at the edges of his soul.
“Fuck!” Mora panted, her body tensing, those inner muscles squeezing his fingers.
“Come for me.” He dragged his tongue over the small cut, hungry for more, his power rumbling within him, roused by a single taste. “Unravel, Little Witch. Set yourself free.”
Mora’s cries filled the meadow, her soft curls tumbling over his forearm as she arched her back.
It was euphoria, brought to life and dancing through the sacred space, Mora’s moans growing more erratic.
His favorite sound, he decided, though he’d like it better if she were calling his name. If she knew it at all.
When she sagged in his arms, panting, barely able to catch her breath, he pulled his hand free and brought his fingers to his lips. Sucking on her arousal. A pleased growl rumbled in his chest, his endless black eyes never leaving her face while he licked each one clean. “I could get drunk on you.”
“I would surely drive you to madness,” she breathed. Glimmering gems of honeyed amber graced him, raw power churning in the depths of her eyes. Arcadia’s power.
Ignoring the sharp pain in his heart, Zadriel leaned closer and brushed his lips over her forehead. “I’d lose myself gladly. Give in to whatever madness you demanded, if only for another moment in your presence.”
Her lips parted, too many emotions to count flashing in that stare. “You mentioned a game?”
He grinned as he rose, pulling her up with him, and for a moment, he simply stared at her.
At those perfectly flushed cheeks. At the way her breasts moved with each breath, little bruises peppering the surface where he’d nibbled on her skin, a single cut from his canine marking her. That pleased him greatly.
Trailing his lips along her jaw, he made his way to her ear, chuckling before he whispered, “Run.”
“What—”