Chapter 41
Chapter forty-one
Archer
The bond throbbed, a living, breathing thing within my soul.
Under my hands, I could feel Delilah’s heart beating, racing like a frightened rabbit, and the beast within me growled in anticipation. I was desperate for another taste of her.
All of her.
And I was through waiting.
Reaching down, I curled my hands under her thighs, smirking at the shocked squeal she released when I hefted her into my arms and turned from the wall to the bed. Around us, my shadows undulated like a black sea, rising and falling in time with each of my rapid breaths.
Reaching the bed, I tossed Delilah lightly and she gasped as she bounced on the plush mattress. She opened her mouth—likely to protest—but before she could utter a word, I leaned over her, one hand on the mattress by her head as I pressed a finger to her lips.
“Don’t speak, witch, unless it is to beg me to fuck you.”
“I—”
“I mean it,” I snarled, gnashing my teeth at her. “Not a single sound unless it’s you crying my name for more.” She blinked at me, eyes wide. “Nod if you understand.”
After a second’s hesitation, she nodded, and I felt my mouth curving into a dark smile.
“Excellent. Now, lay back, witch, while I taste my mate.”
I watched as her eyes widened, the shock of my words sinking in, but any protest she had died on her lips when I reared up, grasped the hem of her dowdy dress, and pulled, ripping it all the way to her navel.
Looking at her, seeing the blushing pink of her pussy staring back at me, I felt my cock twitch behind my pants.
She was perfect—of course, she was—flushed and rosy and dripping for me.
Curling my hands over her thighs, I spread her wider, growling when her dewy lips clung together for a second longer, then popped open, showing me all of her.
I’d touched her before; in the Void, I’d had my fingers buried in her heat, feeling the slick walls of her clenching against me with every thrust.
I’d smelled her often; whether she knew it or not, the rich musk of her arousal had floated my way on several occasions—usually when we were bickering at one another.
But I’d never tasted her, and that was a crime for which I would pay a thousand lifetimes.
Not wanting to waste another second, I leaned in, letting the scent of her wash over me as I extended my tongue and took a long, slow lick.
“Fucking delicious.” As I said the words, Delilah moaned, her muscles clenching around nothing while she writhed against my hold, her hips involuntarily tipping toward me.
Unable to deny her any longer, I began to feast, consuming her with everything I had.
My tongue—longer and more agile than any mere human could ever hope to have—snaked inside her, teasing along her sensitive walls until she gave me another of those delightful squeals.
“You’re everything I never dreamed I could have. ”
Delilah gasped at my words, her hands flying to my head to tug at my hair.
She froze for a moment when her questing fingers encountered the stubs of my horns, not fully extended, but definitely noticeable.
I paused, waiting for her to freak out. To bolt from the strangeness that she was aware of but not quite used to.
But my witch didn’t bolt. She doubled down.
Letting out a sound between a grunt and a growl, my witched grabbed both horns in her tiny fists and pulled, shoving my face back against her weeping pussy with more force than I would have given her credit for.
Happy to oblige, I continued to devour her, needing to know every single inch of her body. Needing to taste her pleasure, to drink it down like sweet ambrosia.
“Archer!”
She was close, her body bucking beneath my hands as she rode my face, chasing her orgasm.
Beneath my knees, the floor boards began to vibrate, and the dim light of the lamps flared, the bulbs buzzing like live wires all around us, but I ignored it all, intent on my mate and the feel of my tongue inside her.
When she came, her scream rocked through the room like a whip and I grinned in pure male satisfaction.
Rising from the floor, I stared down at her, panting and boneless on the bed as she gazed up at me dreamily.
“I’m far from finished with you, witch,” I said, my voice nearly all growl as I shed my clothes, her wide-eyed stare as she took in my naked body for the first time filling me with enough Pride to make me Fall all over again.
Planting one knee on the bed, I watched as she scrambled backward, clumsily removing the last shredded bits of her dress, leaving me staring at her round, perfect tits, the cluttered pendant hanging between them.
“I intend to stake my claim tonight.” I prowled up the bed on all fours, watching as she settled back against the pillows, her caramel colored hair fanning out behind her in a messy puddle that took my breath away.
“Because I’m your mate?” she asked, her fingers trailing up her body and tracing over the mark I’d left on her neck, both of us shivering in unison when she stroked it lightly.
“Because you’re my mate,” I agreed, not fully sure she understood, but too far gone for a rational discussion.
Perhaps it was unfair, not confirming that she knew exactly what had happened between us when I’d sank my teeth into her flesh and marked her, but fair was not part of the equation at the moment.
Between my bite at her neck, my collar at her throat, and my sigil over her heart, I was completely gone, a savage in a man’s body—barely.
I could feel the shift happening, the demon form I usually kept locked tightly down practically bursting out of me as I prepared to stake my final claim over Delilah. There was no containing it.
I was hers and she was fucking mine.
“And as my mate,” I said, staring down at her flushed cheeks and beautiful, too-trusting face. Leaning close, I lined my cock up to enter the last woman I would ever know in the biblical sense, letting her fully see the demon within me. “I expect you to claim me right fucking back.”
I entered her in one smooth thrust, sliding home as her body welcomed me.
“Yes,” she hissed, her head thrown back, putting my mark on full display. “Archer, yes!”
“You were made for me, Delilah,” I said, pulling back slightly and then sinking back in. “Just as I was made for you.”
Wrapping her arms around me, Delilah dug her short nails into the flesh of my back, pulling me tighter against her.
“I know,” she breathed, her eyes wide with wonder and lust. “I don’t know why, but I’ve always known.” A small frown appeared between her brows, and I wanted to smooth it away. “Even when I thought I hated you, I was drawn to you.”
“You don’t hate me anymore?” I asked, pausing my thrusts and smirking down at her.
“I will if you don’t keep doing what you were just doing,” she pouted, and I laughed, pressing a kiss to her furrowed brow before resuming my movements.
“Trust me, witch. Now that I have you, I don’t ever plan on stopping.”
She smiled softly, and it was like the sun rise after a storm, bright and hopeful, and the dead shriveled thing that I once called my heart beat just a little faster at the sight of it.
Fuck, how I needed her.
I’d never needed anyone before. My brothers and I had a bond, a mutual respect based on countless centuries of relying on one another in battle, and I knew I’d be lost without them.
But I’d survive.
As I stared into Delilah’s eyes, watching as she bit her lip and moaned in pleasure, my shadow collar stroking her throat the same way I was stroking her clit, desperate for her to come again, I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that I’d never survive losing her.
And that scared the shit out of me.
Noticing my distraction, Delilah used the opportunity to push against me, her palm hot against my bare chest. Digging her feet into the mattress, Delilah rolled her hips, encouraging me to increase my pace again.
Reaching above her, I grasped the headboard with one hand, keeping the other busy massaging her clit in a way that seemed to make her squirm.
She lifted her knees, heels digging into the base of my spine as she urged me to go deeper, harder, and like the slave to her I was, I acquiesced.
“Yes. Yes, oh!”
My chest was burning, my heart thrashing beneath her palm as I gasped for breath.
Around us, my shadows roiled, a sea of darkness that flowed across the bedroom floor.
The bulbs flashed, the candle flame flickered as though tossed about in a tempest, and it felt as though the entire house was ready to shake apart around us.
But all I could see was Delilah. My witch, my mate, glowing beneath me as I claimed her. Joined our souls and our bodies together.
Forever.
“Archer,” she cried, her crystal blue eyes widened, seeming as though they were lit from within. “Archer, what—I need…please. Please, more!”
“Anything,” I promised, meaning it with everything I had inside me.
“Always,” she whispered, her quiet words igniting between us like gasoline on a fire.
Her touch on my chest felt like lightning, the sensation shooting through my flesh and burning right into the core of me. I could feel it, the final step of the bond snapping into place. Delilah had claimed me, even if she didn’t know it.
She was mine and I was hers.
It felt good. It felt right.
Of all the things I had done in my very long existence, she was going to be my greatest triumph.
Or my final damnation.
“My witch,” I said, close. “Come, witch. Give it to me. Give it all to me.”
She came, her sweet, hot pussy gripping me almost violently, and I followed her immediately, pouring myself deep within her.
But that wasn’t the only violent thing to happen.
As she screamed her release, the buzzing around us grew louder, the bulbs from the lamps hissing and flaring again, until, as one, they exploded, plunging the room into darkness.