Chapter 45
DAISY
It has been days since I had that strange dream, and I can’t shake her words from my head.
Born for a reason. You were theirs, and now you are mine.
I swear, if there’s one thing I hated about ever meeting Korithax—other than this whole war stuff—it’s the sheer number of cryptic assholes I’ve been forced to know since.
What is so wrong with just outright saying what you mean?
Why does everything have to be layered in riddles and half-truths and ominous pauses?
It’s all so headache inducing. Especially when there’s no one I can talk to about it.
I don’t want to make Korithax spiral, Aran is buried in the grimoire and failing leylines, and I haven’t seen Ezra since he was dragged off to the healing quarters to start his training.
And on top of demons threatening my best friend, creepy mirrors whispering cryptic prophecies, and an impending war… someone is actively trying to get through our wards.
I blow out a heavy breath, resting the back of my head against the carved headboard of our oversized bed.
Korithax is still sleeping soundly beside me.
He’s lying on his front, muscled and broad, his tattooed arms bare and powerful as his hands disappear beneath the pillow.
Gods, he looks so fucking good like that.
Since the council meeting in the war room four days ago, he’s stayed with me every night.
Sometimes during the day, he vanishes without a word, only to reappear hours later, sweat-soaked, his knuckles bloodied and swollen.
I never ask where he’s been or what he’s been doing.
I know he’s doing whatever he can to keep the thing living inside him at bay.
He still hasn’t touched me since that night, though. He kisses me and lets his hands roam over my body. But he won’t let himself go any further. Not after he bit my throat and made me bleed.
The thing is… I genuinely did enjoy it. At the time it hurt like hell, but it was a good kind of pain. Gods, I’m turning into a sadist. I miss him, though. I miss the feel of him on me… in me.
“Daisy,” Korithax rumbles, his voice deep and rough with sleep. “You’re aroused enough that your scent woke me.”
I burst out laughing despite myself. He turns his head, one dark brow lifting in question. “Sorry, I was just thinking of the other day,” I murmur, my cheeks heating.
He grabs me suddenly, pulling me atop him as he rolls onto his back. I squeal, laughter spilling from me as I land against his solid chest.
“Oh?” he murmurs, a dangerous edge creeping into his voice. “And what exactly were you thinking about, my queen?”
I can feel his solid length beneath me, and it takes everything in me not to grind down against him.
I don’t want to push him, though. I don’t want to make him feel like he needs to do anything he’s not ready for.
So I shake my head, refusing to answer his question.
He doesn’t like that, and decides to roll his hips up into me, slow and deliberate, drawing a soft moan from my throat.
“Tell me,” he growls.
“I was thinking about when you bit me,” I gasp as he rocks into me again.
He goes still. A faint frown creases between his brow, tension flooding his body. I lean forwards, cupping his cheek, stroking my thumb gently over his skin.
“Korithax,” I say softly. “I enjoyed it.”
“I shouldn’t have lost control like that,” he says firmly. “I should never hurt you.”
I sigh, slightly shaking my head. He’s never going to stop seeing himself as the villain.
“I’m going to go take a shower before today’s training,” I say quietly, the disappointment sinking heavy in my stomach when he doesn’t try to stop me from leaving.
Steam fills the room as I lather smoked-honey and lavender scented soap over my skin, my head tilting back beneath the spray. I can’t ignore the ache between my thighs, the constant low throb that’s been there since Korithax returned. It’s like I’m constantly in heat.
Before him, masturbation was something I barely thought about.
And after he died, the idea of sex felt hollow—wrong, even.
But now he’s back, and he’s right there…
and he’s not giving me what I need. Which is fine.
I understand why. But I need to freaking sort myself out before I walk into the training ring, and every demon in Hell scents my arousal.
Or is it just Korithax that can do that? Either way—I’m not risking it.
I drop my head back against the tiled wall, sliding one hand over my breast while the other slips between my thighs.
My eyes flutter shut as I draw lazy circles around my clit, pressure already building low in my stomach.
I pinch my nipple between my fingers, craving the pain alongside the pleasure.
The bond tugs, alerting me to his presence.
I open my eyes to find him watching me, a carnal hunger blazing in his gaze as I slide two fingers inside myself.
A moan escapes me as I work them slowly, my other hand tightening around my breast. His nostrils flare, the only sign of his restraint slipping as I pick up my pace, panting as I feel my pleasure build.
“Korithax,” I moan, my mouth dropping open on a gasp as I feel my arousal slicking down my thighs and mixing with the water streaming over me.
He’s only in his underwear, his cock straining against the fabric, precum darkening the material.
“Please,” I whimper. “Please fuck me.”
I’m not above begging at this point. My fingers feel good, but I know he would feel better. I’m desperate for him. I need to feel every inch of him buried inside me.
He snarls, prowling forwards as his underwear burns away.
In seconds, he’s got me pinned against the cold tiles, his body flush to mine, water cascading over his shoulders as dark hair clings to his face.
His onyx eyes are blown so wide, there’s barely any white left at all. And they’re completely locked on me.
“Beg me again, princess,” he breathes, his hand closing around my throat. “Beg for my cock like the filthy girl you are.”
“Please, Korithax,” I gasp. “Please give me your cock. I need you.”
He lifts me effortlessly, yanking my hand away from pussy and slamming into me in one brutal thrust. I let out a guttural scream that melts into a deep, throaty moan.
The burn and pleasure collide, overwhelming as all nine inches of him fill me.
He growls into my ear, giving me no time to adjust as he pounds into me, my back hitting tile, and my nails digging into his back.
“Fuck, yes, Korithax. Yes!” I cry, biting down on his chest hard enough to draw blood. I lick at it, the coppery taste sending my pleasure spiralling higher.
He tangles his hand in my hair, forcing my head back to look at him. “Look at you,” he snarls. “So fucking beautiful with my blood on your lips, and your cunt filled with my thick cock. You take me so well, baby girl.”
I can feel my pleasure building, my lower stomach tightening as he pushes himself into me to the hilt. It doesn’t take long for stars to fill my vision, my orgasm ripping through me so violently, it leaves me dizzy, my entire body vibrating with aftershocks of pleasure.
A few thrusts later, he follows. A rough, broken sound tears from his chest as he finds his release, his body shuddering over mine as hot ropes of cum fill me before he finally stills. His forehead drops to my shoulder, his breath hot against my skin, our bodies trembling in unison.
He slowly pulls out, dragging a whimper from me as he sets me down on shaking legs. I watch with wide eyes as he lowers to his knees, smiling up at me with a wicked glint to his eyes.
“Kori,” I breathe. “What are you doing?”
“Let me taste us, little flower,” he murmurs, lips brushing against my soft stomach.
“I… I don’t think I can—”
His tongue cuts me off, flicking over my clit and stealing the words from my mouth. He wastes no time, devouring me like I’m his favourite sin, moaning as he tastes us together. Another orgasm quickly crashes over me, my legs buckling as my head spins from the intense pleasure.
He catches me and pulls me down onto his lap, a low chuckle in his throat as he wraps his arms around me and presses his forehead to mine.
“Happy now, my love?” he asks smugly.
I nod, smiling as I kiss him, tasting everything we just shared.
“You did it. You stayed in control,” I whisper, resting my head against his chest, his erratic heartbeat thudding in my ear.
“For you, my queen. I’ll do anything.”
For a while, we just stay there on that cold tile floor, the soft pitter patter of the shower sounding in the room.
His arms remain wrapped around my waist, holding me close as my fingers drift lazily over his chest, tracing the dark ink that coils across his skin.
The markings twist everywhere, over his shoulders, down his arms, across his ribs and stomach.
Swirling lines of black, beautiful, and brutal all at once.
My fingertip follows the one curling near his sternum. “What do they mean?”
Korithax stills beneath me. Just enough for me to feel it. His heartbeat changes, too, one hard thud, then another.
I lift my head slightly, looking at him. “The tattoos.”
His jaw tightens, and for a moment, I think he won’t answer. Then his gaze drops from mine to where my fingers rest against his skin.
“They hide things,” he says quietly.
A chill slips through me at the way his voice sounds so unlike him. “What things?”
His throat bobs as he swallows. “Scars.”
My hand freezes. Korithax says nothing for a long moment. Then, slowly, he takes my wrist and guides my fingers lower, over the tattooed lines that spiral across his ribs. Beneath the ink, I can feel the faint difference in the texture of his skin. Slightly raised in places.
My chest constricts.
“Your father?” I ask, barely breathing.