Chapter 35
Chapter
Thirty-Five
I was right. Thom and Mira are mates. They accepted the bond and now they’re disgustingly happy and can’t keep their hands off each other. There’s something strange that happens when mates accept the bond—a honeymoon period that is rather sickening to be around. And it’s also rather cute.
— From the journal of Violet Andrever
The expression on Griff’s face could only be called elation. His head moved toward me slowly. He hesitated, only for a moment, as though he couldn’t quite believe I’d chosen this. Chosen him. Chosen us. So I closed the distance between our lips and something wild broke loose in him.
His lips crashed down on mine with a hunger that stole my breath. If I had thought our last kiss was intense, it was nothing compared to this one. Heat exploded through my veins as we ignited, and the golden light inside me flared to full strength, threatening to burst from my skin.
He didn’t just kiss me. He claimed me, and the bond settled into my bones, a recognition that went deeper than flesh and blood.
His arms wrapped tight around me, molding me against him, and I opened for him eagerly as his tongue tangled with mine. No hesitation, no careful restraint. Just a brutally deep, possessive kiss that tasted of forever, and I drank it in greedily.
I pressed ever closer to him, desperate to eliminate every fraction of space between us, and gasped when he hauled me into his lap. I straddled him as he devoured me, my arms clinging to his neck as I buried my fingers into the silky hair at the base of his skull.
The sound he made, a mixture between a groan and a growl, sent heat spiraling straight to my core. I tugged harder, wanting to hear that sound again, and was rewarded for my efforts.
I could have kissed him forever. A sense of absolute rightness settled through me, warm and certain. This was what I’d been waiting for: the feeling of coming home after wandering lost and finally knowing exactly where I belonged.
Safe. Wanted. Cherished. Claimed.
Griff held me against him, alternating between deep, devouring kisses and gentle sips at my lips, as though we had all the time in the world. How was this only the second time we’d kissed? I could feel my soul recognizing his, as though it had been waiting for this moment for eternity.
I shrieked as he stood, lifting me as though I weighed nothing. My muscles protested from my recent ordeal, but I locked my legs around his hips anyway, trusting him completely. His fingers dug into my thighs, his mouth never once leaving mine.
He carried me toward the cottage with determined strides.
As we approached, the door swung open for us without his touch.
The moment we crossed the threshold, it closed with a soft click.
Then Griff spun me around, shoving me back against the wooden surface, and I gasped as I found myself trapped between that hard door and the solid planes of his body.
I melted into his embrace, our mouths fused together.
I reached between us, hooking one thumb into his waistband, desperate to reach the thick length I could feel straining against the fabric.
“No.” He pulled back slightly, his eyes dark with barely controlled desire.
“I’ve waited too damn long. I have plans for this moment.
I want you naked, stretched out beneath me.
Where I can taste and worship and enjoy every glorious inch of you.
Our first time is not going to be taking you against a wall. ”
“But maybe our second?” I asked coyly, pressing kisses along his jawline and tasting the salt of his skin.
“Definitely our second,” he muttered, almost in pain.
“Promise?”
“I’ll promise you anything you want right now, Princess.”
“Then find us a bed in this place,” I whispered against his ear, letting my teeth graze his earlobe. “I’m tired of waiting to be yours.”
His groan vibrated through his chest as he hoisted me tighter against him.
I bit his bottom lip gently before slanting my mouth over his again, exploring his warmth.
I clung to him as he carried me up the stairs, our lips constantly seeking each other, neither of us willing to break contact.
I strung kisses along his throat as he tried the first door.
“Fucking library,” he muttered, and I laughed against his skin as he swore and pivoted to the second door, kicking it open with more force than necessary.
“Thank Voda,” he breathed as candlelight revealed a bedroom with a large, inviting bed. I didn’t question how the candles were already lit or the fire warming the room. This place reverberated with magic.
“Don’t you mean ‘thank Solais’? It is a soul mating bond.”
“I’ll thank all seven gods if I finally get to have you.”
He lowered me to the bed and followed me down, pressing me into the mattress.
He braced himself with one hand while the other worked the laces of my corset.
He was going too slowly, so I pushed his hands away, my fingers fumbling with the ties.
The two sides gaped open, leaving my chest bare to him as I wiggled out of the restrictive garment.
While my experience in this certainly wasn’t vast, I’d never seen anything like the ravenous hunger in his eyes as they consumed my body.
“You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” he growled, before gently cupping one of my breasts. I arched into his touch, chin lifted in silent invitation, and he took my plea for a kiss. I tugged at his shirt, and he broke away for just a moment to rip it off his head.
My mouth went dry. I’d seen him shirtless before, seen him train, watched him spar, hell even swam with him in the ocean, but this was different.
The candlelight flickered across his sun-touched skin, illuminating every sculpted muscle, every scar.
The broad expanse of his shoulders. The chiseled abs disappearing into the pants he was inexplicably still wearing.
I pulled him back down to me with renewed urgency, needing to feel his skin against mine.
He lowered his body, my head tucked into the cradle of his arm, as that perfectly muscular chest pressed against mine and crushed me into the bed.
I met his mouth hungrily as he kissed me with unrelenting intensity.
My hands went to his waistband. Never taking his mouth from mine, he made quick work of stripping his pants. I lifted my hips as he divested me of my pants just as quickly, before he stopped and pulled back.
I lay splayed out on the bed before him, completely exposed.
Completely vulnerable. My hair fanned out beneath me, my skin flushed from his kisses, every inch of me bare to his gaze.
And yet I didn’t care. Didn’t feel the urge to cover myself or hide.
All I felt, as his eyes traced over my body with a reverent gleam, was want.
His gaze traveled slowly, deliberately, as though he was drinking in every curve, every place where light and shadow danced over my skin.
His breathing grew ragged as his eyes paused between my legs, where I was already slick with need.
His pupils dilated with pure desire as heat flooded through me again.
“You’re perfect,” he rasped, with barely controlled restraint. “Absolutely perfect.”
I felt powerful in my nakedness, seeing this strong, always controlled man tremble with desire. It was intoxicating. I stretched languidly beneath his gaze, letting him look his fill, reveling in the way his eyes darkened with my every movement.
And I needed him. Needed this man. “Touch me.” My voice came out husky. “Please, Griff. I need you to touch me.”
I barely saw the elation cross his face before he crushed me to him, running his hands down my ribs only to capture my wrists and pin them above my head with one of his large hands. The motion caused my back to arch and my breasts to lift. He smiled his satisfaction.
“Months I’ve wanted to do this. Feeling these against my arm every night, longing to touch them.”
His head bent to my nipple and sucked it into his mouth, while his free hand kneaded my other breast.
“Months I’ve wanted you to do just that,” I moaned, rotating my pelvis against his, frantic for the feel of him. He released my breast only to put his mouth on the other one, as his hand wandered down to my thighs.
I was wet and aching for him. He discovered this for himself, purring with satisfaction as he touched me gently, brushing his fingers through my lower lips, before diving one, and then another, into me.
I melted as the sensations tunneled through me.
I dragged my nails over his back, hard enough he would have scratch marks in the morning, before my hand moved to cup the back of his skull as he lapped at my nipple.
“Fuck,” he moaned against my breast, his palm covering that sensitive spot while his fingers dipped in and out, curling slightly. I rode his hand, his palm, as he anchored me to him with those long fingers.
His fingers never ceased their motions inside me as his mouth left my breast to kiss his way down my body. I squirmed as he took his time, learning every curve, every divot. He hadn’t been kidding about the worship. I lifted my hips, hoping to encourage him to move faster.
I’d forgotten I was dealing with the master in patience.
He nuzzled my inner thighs, dragging his tongue over my sensitive flesh, meticulously avoiding the one place I wanted him.
My breaths were coming in jagged pants now, my fingers fisted in the sheets, and I lost control of my body as it thrashed against his mouth.
“Please, Griff,” I begged.
He finally gave me what I was desperate for and buried his head between my thighs, licking and sucking that bundle of nerves.
His tongue replaced his finger, and as he tasted me, I felt his growl of approval vibrate through me.
Soon, I was writhing and whimpering, small sounds escaping without my permission.
I arched against his mouth as I felt everything spiral up and up until the pleasure was out of control.
The candles flickered and spluttered as my climax burst free and I screamed his name.
His mouth gentled, pressing kisses to the inside of my thigh, both hands supporting my waist, holding me steady as I came back down to earth.
He kissed his way back up my body before looking at me with an expression torn between longing and satisfaction. I reached down and touched him, where his cock was ready and twitching against my leg. He groaned as I caressed him.
“I can’t wait,” he muttered against my lips.
“Don’t,” I urged.
Taking himself in hand, he reared up. As he positioned himself at my entrance, our eyes met and held.
The thread of our bond pulsed and shone as he moved slowly—too slowly—inside me.
He propped himself up on one forearm to avoid crushing me, but I was having none of that.
I wanted to be crushed. I wanted to feel him over me, surrounding me, inside me. I wanted him everywhere.
And I wanted him to finally lose the remnants of control that he was clinging to. I wanted him as thoroughly annihilated as I was.
Acting on instinct, I pushed that thought through that golden thread as I breathlessly demanded, “More.”
It worked. Something broke free inside him, and with a single thrust, he filled me to the hilt. I gasped, my body stretching around him, feeling the full weight of him as he pressed down on me. His mouth found mine, our tongues mimicking our bodies.
“You feel… I never imagined…”
The Champion who was always calm, always in control, couldn’t even string words together as he plunged deep within me, and I reveled in his loss of control.
The tilt of his pelvis rocked against that sensitive part of me.
I clung to him, my fingers digging into his upper arms as he set a frantic motion that moved us inch by inch across the bed.
There was nothing gentle about it. Nothing held back.
It was raw need, pure desire driving us onward.
The sensation was earth-shattering. Not just the physical joining but the way our bond blazed to life like a forge, welding our essences together, binding us with pure magic that sang and breathed and lived. The boundaries between us faded away as we were transformed into something new.
His mouth consumed mine, our bodies touching in every way imaginable, and I felt the surge start through me again.
I balanced on that torturous edge, my movements erratic as he kept me pinned beneath him, swallowing my whimpers, kiss by kiss, until I couldn’t take it anymore and I exploded.
The candle flames didn’t just flicker this time, they erupted in a glorious column of orange and crimson, painting flickers of flame over our bodies.
The golden thread binding us, formerly as delicate as spun silk, now flowed as a torrent of light, bright as the sun’s rays, fusing our hearts, minds, and souls until I couldn’t tell where I ended and he began.
Every plunge of his hips sent waves cascading through my body. I clenched around him as my release ricocheted through me. He pounded into me, hard and frantic, drawing out my release until, with a roar, he found his own, spilling deep into me.
The candles guttered, mere waxy stubs remaining. He slumped against me, as our foreheads came together and my hand tenderly cupped the back of his head.
After a moment, he lifted his head to search my eyes. His expression was soft as he delicately brushed hair out of my face. “How do you feel?”
That was a good question.
I felt more than I’d ever felt before. Instead of scaring me, though, it filled me with the same wonder I saw on his face. And really there was only one answer. “Complete.”
He smiled, and my heart stuttered. This wasn’t his usual guarded expression, but an achingly real look, more genuine than any expression I’d seen from him.
As if this moment had freed him from every burden he carried, every responsibility that normally shadowed his eyes.
I wondered if he found the same refuge in my arms that I had always found in his.
“I feel the same way.” He pressed gentle kisses to my forehead, my cheeks, my lips. “Nothing can break this bond, Princess. Nothing can separate us.”
“Good,” I said firmly, pulling his head down to mine. “Because I’m never letting you go.”