Chapter 19 #3
“Azriel,” she breathed, gripping his hair hard—an action of necessity for herself rather than to urge him on. She knew without a doubt that, given the chance, this was where he would feast every night.
Another hum from deep in his chest, then he eased two fingers into her. After so long without such a touch, Ariadne felt herself stretch for him. The sensation was nothing in comparison to what was to come, and she welcomed the fullness that awaited her.
Gripping harder, she leaned back onto her free hand and lifted her hips from the table in a steady rhythm, meeting the glide of his fingers so they may curl at the perfect place inside her.
Ariadne groaned his name again, and Azriel’s eyes blazed with heat.
He would stay there all day if it meant sweeping her over the edge with pleasure.
“Again,” he demanded before returning his mouth to her sex.
“Gods…Azriel, yes…”
His hand moved faster, each beckoning stroke dragging her towards the precipice until her climax had her crying out again.
Body tense and rolling with pleasure, she hauled in several deep breaths before she could untangle her fingers from his hair.
Only then did Azriel rock back on his heels, once again kissing her thighs with lips that glistened.
“You are beautiful,” he murmured. “You are powerful. You are strong. And you, my love…you are all mine.”
Ariadne nodded, unable to voice her affirmation of his words.
Rising to stand over her, Azriel tugged his trousers open, freeing his heavy cock and stroking its full length before leaning forward. His free hand resting on the table beside her, he angled himself to her entrance as he kissed her neck and collarbone.
“Say it,” he whispered, pausing there with her aching for him.
After swallowing hard and finding her voice, she did as he bid: “I am yours.”
Azriel thrust into her as she spoke, and her mind went blank from the way he stretched her in that perfectly familiar way.
Another thrust had her gasping, the hand she had just pulled from his hair now gripping the back of his neck for support.
At the same time, he held her steady by the hips to prevent her from slipping farther and farther back on the table.
“Mine,” he growled before sinking his fangs into her throat.
She let out a small cry. Her thigh had just healed, yet now she felt him deep inside both her neck and core, and she reveled in his claim. Each long stroke of his cock mirrored the suck of his mouth, sending her reeling.
“Yours,” she agreed. “Only yours.”
And it was in that moment that Ariadne realized just how much he needed this, too.
A week of not knowing what was happening to her, then even longer of watching her flounder with no way of giving aid.
Her need to have him inside her was no more significant than his need for reassurance that she was and would always be his.
Only his.
All at once, the pleasure and joy collided. Ariadne rode the wave as he pulled his fangs free and kissed her hard. Metallic tang filled her mouth as they clashed in a passionate mix of teeth and tongue.
A hard thrust had her throwing her head back and moaning loudly. He growled in response, still holding her steady so she could take each pump of his cock without moving.
With her gripping the back of his neck, he used his free hand to run up her clothed body to the neckline of her dress.
She leaned back, providing him with greater access, and he took up the knife from the table and cut down the front.
In mere moments, one of her few dresses fell apart, exposing her breasts to him.
Yet she could not find it in herself to care. He dropped the knife back onto the table and cupped a breast, giving her a firm squeeze before rolling her nipple between his fingers. Heat erupted through her body at the combination of his thrusts and strokes.
“Gods,” she breathed, arching her back even more.
“No,” Azriel said, turning his attention to the other breast and repeating his affections. “No, my love. You belong to me, and I do not want to hear you calling for them while I am inside you.”
At that, Azriel took her nipple in his mouth and sucked. She cried out again, this time worshipping his name alone. He grinned up at her as he teased the hard tip with his tongue, then straightened again to continue thrusting into her.
“I love you. “Ariadne shifted her grip from his neck to his horn.
Azriel kissed her still-parted lips. “Until the very end.”
Whether it was his words or his cock or his teasing that drove her to climax for a second time, Ariadne did not know, nor did she care.
All she knew was that he followed her over the edge as her core gripped him hard.
He impaled her one last time, his length filling her so completely that she could not so much as think.
Only when he pulled himself free, leaving her leaking from both their orgasms, did any form of coherent thought return. She sat up tall to kiss him gently and felt the dungeon cold sweep across her exposed breasts, sending a chill through her.
“I liked this dress,” she said as she leaned back to touch the frayed edges.
“Hmm.” He surveyed her. “I much prefer you naked.”
Her mouth curled into a smile. “Even as we go upstairs, where anyone could see me?”
A darkness shadowed his gaze. “I would be forced to pluck the eyes from anyone who dared to look upon you.”
“Then I suggest,” she said, running her lips along his jaw, “that you give me your shirt and save an innocent’s eyesight.”
Azriel growled in return. “A merciful Queen.”
With that, he reached over his shoulder and tugged the shirt from his back.
His muscles flexed in the low light. Ariadne ran her hands up his abdomen, relishing the way he felt beneath her touch—no longer a skeletal shadow of himself as he had been after Algorath, but the healthy and strong husband she knew and loved.
She accepted his shirt, draping the excess fabric over her shredded dress when a thought slipped into her brain that she had never had before: if anyone ever tried to take him from her again…she would kill them without remorse.