Chapter 17 #2
A flush of heat flooded through me as he set himself at my entrance. This was still Carmine’s body, after all, and my body was certain about that.
When it came to Carmine, I’d opened my heart to him again the night I’d finally believed in the wrath curse and his imprisonment.
The demon king lowered me, and both of us groaned at the joining of our bodies. He wrapped both hands around my waist, and then quickly revealed the rest of his plan—to get this over with as soon as possible.
Tyran slammed me down, then lifted me in a blur.
I choked on the sudden fullness, but Carmine and I were so far into this mating that I couldn’t imagine any union of our bodies feeling bad.
I struggled to remain upright, but with my legs hooked over the throne and his hold on my hips dictating the pace and depth, I had little control.
But this got me everything I wanted, and I was more than happy to oblige as Tyran moved me up and down using my mate’s hands.
The change was sudden.
His movements slowed. Eased.
Deepened.
He returned a hand under my ass, then reached around my hip to circle my clit.
“Carmine,” I moaned.
My mate was here.
“Enamai?” He unhooked my legs from over the throne and set them either side of his body.
I didn’t waste any time settling into a rocking rhythm.
Carmine hissed my name, and untied my hands. I sighed at the freedom, and then again when he unfastened the cape at my neck and tossed it aside.
This was him, and the parts of me I’d held back until now relaxed for knowing that.
I wanted him more than anything.
I clutched the armrests and quickened my rocking, vaguely sensing that our smoke had started to release and intertwine.
Carmine kissed my shoulder, tilting my head to continue up my neck. He whispered in my ear, “Do you like fucking me on my throne?”
I nodded, biting back another moan as his voice rippled through me. Who in their right mind wouldn’t want to fuck on a throne? Even if they weren’t mated to a king.
I wanted as much time with Carmine as possible. I wanted to give him that, and us.
I climbed off and turned to crouch before him. “I’ve fantasized about this too.”
Winking first, I then took his length into my mouth and had the satisfaction of feeling him slam against the throne.
Power.
My body was in fever, and I took as much of my mate into my mouth as possible, driven by the towering lust between us. His smoke wrapped around my ankles, then eased up my legs. He locked my knees straight to force my ass high, and I yelped when his smoke swept up and down the backs of my thighs.
If not for him locking my shaking knees, there wasn’t any way I could have held the position. His torture only made me want to torture him. I swirled my tongue around his cock.
“Fuck,” he choked, then pulled from my mouth.
Carmine gripped under my shoulders to help me stand, and then his lips were on mine.
He pulled back and reached between my thighs. His fingers pressed inside me, and as glassiness overtook my gaze, I was aware of him drinking in the power he held over me. My body knew with absolute certainty that he would give me what I needed.
Every sound he made rocked through me. Every touch held the intensity of one hundred simultaneous touches. My body was in pain from what we shared, and there was no way either of us would stop.
I sucked in a breath as Carmine slipped another finger inside.
He set his forehead to mine. “I stand here with the intention of pursuing our mating. I ask that you open your heart, and I tell you that I shall open mine in return. It has always been open to you, and will remain that way because I am powerless to do anything else when it comes to you, Syera.”
Tears stung the corners of my eyes. He crooked his fingers, drawing a small cry from me.
He whispered again, “One smoke, my mate.”
I panted. “One heart.”
There was no talk of iron. There didn’t have to be.
I cried out as he worked his fingers faster, and then Carmine slipped them free to lift me. Our lips locked, and stayed that way as my back thumped against a wall.
I had no idea where we were. I didn’t care.
A scream was torn from me as his length filled me, and I could hear the begging edge to my hoarse calls of his name.
His mouth closed over my nipples, one by one, and I arched for any and all pleasure he could deliver me.
The mating power that amplified everything we shared wouldn’t allow for further delay. My smoke caressed Carmine’s back. His light touches over my skin were driving me mad.
“You’re mine, Syera,” Carmine whispered in my ear. “Mine alone.”
I had the awareness of nodding. I should remind him that he was mine alone. But it was too late for that.
Too late for words.
Our mating edged in to take over my mind. In a daze and fog, I rested my hand over Carmine’s heart. I felt, more than saw, when he placed his hand over my heart too.
Cracks formed in the iron surrounding our hearts, and the cracks were filled by our mating bond to reinforce the barrier against anyone who may seek to harm us.
From this moment forward, I would be heartbroken for my mate, in a sense. So we would exist always in a slight desperation for all we might lose in the blink of an eye if death befell the other.
This was the power of a mating that I’d never known. Yes, we were given warmth and the urge to protect and love each other from the start.
And now—in this ritual—we’d been given the fear to never take those gifts for granted.