Chapter 43 #2
His eyes raked over her chest as a dark expression took hold.
It was hungry. Predatorial. It spiked her adrenaline, and her heartbeat increased.
He held his hand over her breasts, letting blood fall across her.
His other hand moved to his cock, still concealed beneath his pants, and gripped what he could.
Blood dripped down her ribs and onto the bedding.
“Open your mouth,” he commanded.
She obeyed.
Mal’s sliced palm pressed against her parted lips, blood spilling over her tongue, dripping over her chin. The metallic taste of him sent icy shivers down her arms and spine.
She swallowed.
She swallowed his blood.
He pulled his hand back and watched her.
Something new settled in her own magic, strong and unyielding.
Her eyes tightened, and her lips parted. She craved more. Perhaps it was how wrong it was. How dirty and taboo.
But she knew it was because it was his. Blood was powerful to Magicals.
She looked down at her bloody body. Deep shades of crimson flickered in the dim lights.
His hands slid around her lower waist, pulling her off the bed and arching her back.
He licked across her blood stained breast, sucking at her nipple.
Maeve’s head fell backwards with a groan as her stomach tightened.
He licked broadly across her chest, blood smearing across his lips, his chin, and his cheeks.
And then up her neck until their lips molded together once more and she tasted him again.
“Mal,” she moaned against his lips.
He pulled away, holding her steady. His eyes shot back and forth between hers, searching for distress.
“What is it?” He asked quietly.
Her hands moved to the collar of his shirt.
With two fingers, she traced down the buttons of his shirt.
They opened one by one under her touch. She slipped her hands down his shoulders, loosening the fabric.
His chest was smooth, just like she imagined.
His lean frame was toned with faint lines of his stomach muscles.
Her hands moved to his pants and gripped the buckle of his belt. Her fingers shook at she pulled the leather from its metal clasp.
The button was next.
Then the zipper and-
His arms slipped between hers and pushed them away. She fell back onto the bed. One calm and cool hand pressed into her stomach. Mal breathed deeply, his eyes on her.
But her eyes were on his other hand. His other hand that stroked his hard and considerable length that she released. Maeve’s chest rose and fell hastily. She licked across her lips, where the lingering taste of Mal’s blood remained.
Mal’s hand brushed down her stomach to where the fabric of her bloodstained skirt rested just above her knees. He balled the fabric in one hand and tugged. Maeve lifted her hips as the skirt slipped across her thighs and down her legs. Mal discarded it.
Blood dripped into her ivory panties, spreading across the satin fabric.
He hooked two fingers around the band of them along her hip bone.
Cold ice pressed into her skin. He removed his fingers as the ice traveled across the fabric.
Maeve shook beneath it as it disintegrated the only thing left between them.
She was completely bare. Her legs shook. Mal ran his hands down them and moved himself closer to her entrance. His cock pressed against her gently and her eyes rolled back. She gripped the sheets beneath her. Electric magic shot between them, cool and sharp, where their skin met in intimacy.
“Look at me, Maeve.”
She obeyed.
She opened her eyes. Light marks of blood still smeared across his mouth, some against his chest. His jaw was relaxed and his lips slightly parted. His hair fell halfway across his face, a perfect picture of fearlessness.
It nearly drove her mad, the perfection he oozed. She had to have it all. Every inch of him. The head of his cock rested at her entrance. She opened for him further, a silent plea to become one.
Mal obliged. He guided himself into her, barely moving. She immediately grabbed his forearms as he slowly stretched her open. He pushed further, his hungry eyes on where their skin fused. Maeve winced. A low groan in her throat. He was being so gentle, so calculated.
“Fuck,” he said slowly as he exhaled. He pulled slightly out and then back in. “You were made for me.”
Maeve reeled. Her stomach flipped over. Her brain went fuzzy. Pressure built just above where he eased in and out of her. She wanted to reach for it, satiate that burning. She squirmed under him, pushing her hips up.
Mal’s eyes moved to her own. He moved deeper inside of her, maintaining that slow and steady roll of his body. His hand slithered across her thigh, right to that burning she wanted so badly to release.
His thumb grazed over her clit and Maeve’s insides twisted. She pushed into his gentle touch desperately. His hand moved away.
She looked up at him, her eyes protesting. His hand moved to his face. He licked across his thumb with a delicate precision. Maeve felt herself melt into the bedding.
His thumb moved into his mouth, his tongue flicked across it once more before lowering back down to her.
“Here?” He asked as he placed his wet thumb over her once more.
He was so close, just lower and-
He moved lower.
Maeve sucked in sharply and whined.
There. Yes fucking there.
His thumb began a torturous motion, running over the tight nerves that demanded more and more. She tightened around his cock. Which brought a hefty exhale from him.
His pace remained steady, pushing further inside her every few thrusts, pushing against her core. She only had half of him, and she was whimpering beneath him. Shaking. Doused in the exhilarating and euphoric feeling that he was inside of her. Tears formed in her eyes.
Mal’s head cocked to one side. “Maeve,” he said softly.
She shook her head. “I’m fine. I’m more than fine. I-I-just. . .” Her fingers traced up his stomach.
Mal hushed her tenderly. “You don’t have to explain, Little Viper.”
Maeve spoke before she could stop herself. “It feels like I have known you for a lifetime, and I am only just remembering.”
Delight flickered in his eyes. “I know.”
Mal continued to push and pull inside her tenderly. A tear slipped down Maeve’s cheek as she smiled.
“It’s as though I’ve been suffocating and you are-”
“The very air I need to breathe.”
Maeve nodded and a small laugh of relief escaped her lips. “Like calls to like.”
Those powerful words caused his pace to quicken. And he stopped himself. He rested his head against her shoulder. He released a long and controlled breath. Her fingers moved across his back, running down the dip of his spine.
Mal’s back arched as he pressed deeper into her.
He lifted himself back up. His arms braced on either side of her. Shadows dipped into the muscles of his arms. A crescent moon shape on his bicep. A system of rivers running down his forearms as his flexed veins.
“I want all of me inside you,” he said with a quiet desperation.
Maeve could form no response other than a broken, “please.”
In one swift movement he plunged into her fully. Maeve latched onto his back as her mouth fell open in a silent scream. Mal moved faster, pumping in and out of her with his full length.
His hands moved to her waist as he held her in place. His eyes closed. He stilled. His skin was paler than she’d ever seen it.
“You’ve lost too much blood, Mal,” said Maeve. “You need to finish the spell.”
His eyes opened, and he nodded.
He held her firmly and thrust fully into her. Her hands dropped above her head as she tried to keep her eyes open.
“Hoc aliquid do,” said Mal, his voice dark and low.
He thrust into her again. Mal’s head fell backwards towards the ceiling as his grip on her tightened. He repeated the words a second time. The room shifted. Shadows along the walls grew. The candlelights flickered.
He looked down at her, his eyes hazy and hooded.
“I want you to go over the edge with me,” he said, his movements slowing.
Maeve reached up and stroked his face, brushing his hair back. “There isn’t time, my Prince.”
Frustration shot across his exhausted face. The spell was taking its toll on him as it neared completion.
Maeve reached down and her fingers grazed against his exposed shaft. He stiffened against her touch. She tugged on him, bringing him further.
“I want you to find release,” she whispered up at him. “And I want it all inside of me.”
His cock twitched, and his thrusts resumed. A low moan began building deep in his chest.
She laid back down. Mal fell into her chest as he expanded her further.
Her knees pulled back. His breath panted into her neck as that moan turned into a whimper.
His hands lifted her arched back slightly off the bed, wrapping around her fully.
She twisted her fingers through his hair, their cheeks pressing together.
Shadows broke from the walls and hovered across the room, across the bed, blocking out the light. They were in complete darkness.
His hands moved to her ass. He pulled her up as he slid in and out, never pulling his cock from her completely. In and out and in and out and-
Magic slipped from him. It was pure, almost unbearable, as it infiltrated her. Her skin was dirty now. Her body was his.
Mal repeated the ancient words to complete the spell once more, just as his whimper turned into a low grunt and he pumped inside her with force one last time, releasing every drop she had asked for.
Dark magic, lethal and unfamiliar, pierced into her blood like needles. She twisted beneath him with a scream. His hands shot to her face and held her against his chest.
It barreled through her body, scraping across every part of her. She pushed against Mal, desperate for the pain to ease. The darkness in the room swirled, creating a cyclone of shadow around them.
Maeve’s cries faded into silence. Her heartbeat disappeared. The room slowed.
Her face turned warm. Hot tears of panic and pain fell down her cheeks as he pinned her in place. She jolted under him, violently shaking.
The dark magic lifted only once she was drowning against its presence in her body. The vortex around them shifted into air. The candles on the side tables flickered back into flames.
Maeve gasped and heaved a cry, limp under Mal.
“I’ve got you,” he hummed in her ear, his voice velvety smooth. “It’s over.”
Her magic was wounded completely, pierced by that darkness. Mal rolled off of her and pulled her close. She didn’t shake or move. Her body was drained. He tucked his head atop hers, entangling their legs and draping his arm around her.
The third cost was complete. The Finder’s Stone appeared on the bedside table. Neither of them noticed. They were already asleep.
Maeve Sinclair would never be satisfied with just his lips again.