Blood Oaths and Wolf Moon #2
Zephyr grunted, stumbling back a step, but he recovered fast—too fast. His free hand snaked out, gripping my wrist and yanking me off-balance.
I let him, because I’d been waiting for this. The second his guard dropped, I hooked my leg behind his and shoved.
The world tilted as we crashed to the ground, my body slamming into his with a satisfying thud. I straddled his hips, my thighs clamping down on either side of his waist, my blade pressed to the hollow of his throat.
His breath came in sharp bursts, his chest rising and falling beneath me, and fuck if that didn’t send a jolt straight between my legs.
The heat of him seeped through the thin fabric of my leathers, his scent—dark spices and something wild, like ozone before a storm—filling my lungs.
“Yield,” I purred, leaning down until my lips brushed the shell of his ear. His pulse jumped beneath my blade, but his voice was steady, almost amused.
“Or what, Regina? You’ll cut my throat?” His hips shifted beneath me, just a fraction, but it was enough. A slow, deliberate roll that sent a fresh wave of heat pooling low in my belly. “Go ahead. I dare you.”
My grip on the dagger tightened. “Don’t tempt me.”
“Too late.”
His hands shot up, gripping my waist with bruising force, and in one fluid motion, he flipped us.
The air rushed out of my lungs as my back hit the rug, Zephyr looming over me, his thighs pinning my hips to the floor.
His blade was at my throat now, the cold metal a stark contrast to the fire in his eyes.
But before he could press the advantage, I bucked my hips, using the element of surprise to knock him off-kilter.
We rolled again, a tangle of limbs and ragged breaths, until I had him beneath me once more, my knees digging into the rug on either side of his ribs.
This time, I didn’t just press the blade to his throat—I let it trail lower, over the rapid pulse at the base of his neck, down the center of his chest, until the tip rested just above the waistband of his leather pants.
His abs clenched, his breath hitching as the blade kissed the sensitive skin there.
“Still think I won’t?” I whispered.
Zephyr’s laughter was a dark, velvety thing, sending shivers skittering down my spine.
“Oh, I know you won’t. Not when you’re enjoying this as much as I am.”
I couldn’t deny it. The duel had stopped being about dominance or submission the second our bodies touched.
Now it was something else entirely—something raw and hungry.
The air between us was thick with the scent of sweat and arousal, the torchlight casting long shadows that danced across his sharp features. But then those shadows… moved.
His irises bled black, the darkness spreading like ink in water until his entire gaze was a void, endless and consuming.
His lips peeled back from his teeth, not in a snarl, but something far more primal—a grin that promised sin and ruin.
The torchlight flickered, and for a heartbeat, his face shifted, the angles sharpening, his cheekbones becoming more pronounced, his canines elongating just enough to graze his lower lip.
Zephyr’s Shadow-Self.
I should’ve been afraid. Every instinct I had screamed at me to back away, to put distance between myself and the abyss staring up at me.
But fear wasn’t what coiled tight in my gut, wasn’t what made my nipples ache against the confines of my leather corset.
No, what I felt was want.
A low, needy sound clawed its way up my throat as I leaned in, my lips brushing the shell of his ear. “Show me more,” I whispered.
His hands were on my waist again, but this time, they didn’t push me away. They pulled, yanking me down until my chest was flush against his, my breath mingling with his.
The blade clattered to the floor, forgotten, as his fingers tangled in my hair, tilting my head just so. His lips grazed mine, not quite a kiss, not quite a tease—just a promise, dark and intoxicating.
“Careful, little wolf,” he murmured against my mouth. “You don’t know what you’re asking for.”
I arched into him, my hips rolling of their own volition, the friction sending a bolt of pleasure straight to my clit.
“I know exactly what I’m asking for.”
His growl was a physical thing, vibrating through his chest and into mine.
One hand slid down to grip my ass, his fingers digging in hard enough to bruise as he ground me against him.
Even through the layers of leather, I could feel the thick, rigid length of his cock, hot and demanding against my core.
My pussy throbbed in response, my inner walls clenching around nothing, aching to be filled.
“Fuck,” I gasped, my nails raking down his chest. “You’re such an asshole.”
His chuckle was pure sin. “And yet, here you are, dripping for me.”
I couldn’t argue with that. The proof was soaked into my panties, the slick heat of my arousal making every shift of my thighs a delicious torture.
His Shadow-Self pulsed beneath his skin, the darkness writhing, begging to be unleashed.
I could taste it—the power, the danger, the raw, untamed hunger that mirrored my own.
His mouth crashed into mine, finally, finally giving in to the tension that had been building since the second we’d stepped into this hall.
His kiss was nothing like I expected—no gentle exploration, no teasing coaxing. It was all teeth and tongue and possessive demand, his lips bruising mine as he claimed me with a ferocity that stole my breath.
I kissed him back just as hard, my teeth nipping at his lower lip, my tongue dueling with his in a rhythm that had my hips rocking against him in desperate, needy circles.
His free hand slid up my side, his thumb brushing the underside of my breast before he palmed it roughly, his fingers finding my nipple through the leather and pinching—hard.
A whimper tore from my throat, the pain-flare of pleasure shooting straight to my clit. I ground down against him, my body moving on instinct, chasing the friction, the pressure, the promise of more.
“That’s it,” he growled against my lips, his voice rough with desire.
“Ride me, Regina. Show me how bad you want it.”
I didn’t need to be told twice. My hands found his shoulders, my nails digging in as I rolled my hips, my pussy dragging against the thick ridge of his cock.
The leather was too much, not enough—I needed skin, needed to feel him, all of him. My fingers fumbled with the laces of my corset, but Zephyr batted them away, his Shadow-Self flaring as the darkness ripped the fabric apart, the sound of tearing leather loud in the otherwise silent hall.
Cool air hit my bare skin, my nipples pebbling instantly, aching for his touch.
Zephyr didn’t disappoint. His calloused palm cupped my breast, his thumb circling my nipple before he pinched again, harder this time, the bite of pain making my back arch.
“Zephyr—” His name was a plea, a demand, a curse.
“Shh,” he murmured, his lips trailing down my jaw, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin of my neck. “I’ve got you.”
His other hand slid between us, his fingers finding the waistband of my leathers. One sharp tug, and the fastenings gave way, the fabric parting to reveal the soaked lace of my panties.
His fingers traced the damp fabric, his touch feather-light, maddening.
“So wet for me,” he rumbled, his breath hot against my collarbone. “Always so fucking wet.”
I whimpered, my hips jerking, trying to force his fingers where I needed them. But Zephyr was in no hurry.
He took his time, his fingers teasing the lace aside, his thumb pressing against my clit in slow, deliberate circles.
My breath hitched, my body tightening, coiling, every nerve ending alight with anticipation.
“Please,” I gasped, my voice breaking. “I need—”
“I know what you need,” he growled, and then his fingers were inside me, two of them sinking deep into my dripping pussy with one rough thrust.
My cry echoed through the hall, my back arching as pleasure exploded through me.
His fingers curled, finding that perfect spot inside me, his thumb still working my clit in relentless circles. I was so close, so fucking close—
And then he stopped.
I snapped my eyes open, my vision swimming as I glared down at him. “You bastard—”
His grin was all teeth, his Shadow-Self swirling in his gaze. “Beg for it.”
I bared my teeth right back. “Make me.”
His fingers crooked inside me again, his thumb pressing down on my clit, and I shattered, my orgasm crashing over me in a wave of white-hot pleasure.
My nails raked down his chest, my body trembling as I rode his hand, my pussy clenching around his fingers, milking them for every last drop of sensation.
Zephyr didn’t let up, drawing out every aftershock until I was a boneless, panting mess atop him.
Only then did he withdraw his fingers, bringing them to his lips. His tongue flicked out, tasting me, his eyes never leaving mine.
“Delicious,” he murmured, his voice dark with satisfaction. “But we’re not done yet.”
Before I could respond, his Shadow-Self surged, and the world tilted as he flipped us again, pinning me beneath him.
His body covered mine, his cock a thick, heavy weight against my thigh. I could feel him through the leather of his pants, the heat of him, the need.
His lips crashed into mine once more, his kiss hungry, possessive.
“Tell me to stop,” he growled against my mouth. “Tell me, and I will.”
I wrapped my legs around his waist, my heels digging into his ass, pulling him closer. “Don’t you dare.”
I take her hand. And as she pulls me to my feet, I realize something terrifying.
I don't want to lock the shadow away anymore.
I want to integrate it. Because for the first time, the darkness doesn't feel empty.
It feels like part of the design.