Chapter 20 What Next? – Vexar
WHAT NEXT?
VEXAR
AMARA’S HIPS GRIND into my lap, sending arcing jolts of pleasure through me as a voice in the back of my mind begs me to ‘let go’.
To relinquish my control. To take what is ‘mine’.
The possessive nature of these urges is disquieting, and resisting them is like holding back the sea with my bare hands.
It is a dangerous game. Every moment pushing me closer to the breaking point, spreading my control a little thinner, loosening my grip on reality.
Take her.
There is a darkness lurking in my depths. Something new to me but ancient. At first, I thought it was the bond itself, but now I am not so sure. It feels … dangerous. Like it should not be there.
I should stop her. I should tell her I cannot control myself. But the words will not surface. And maybe I do not want them to. If not for the uncomfortable darkness vying for my surrender, I would sink willingly into this bliss. But instead, I am grasping for restraint.
No training, exercise, or knowledge could have prepared me for the onslaught of emotion and sensation overtaking me. It is inconceivable. Perfect. Terrifying. Everything.
More.
Her hands move to the hem of her dress, and I know she is asking me to take it off. No words are needed, but I ask anyway. “Can I take off your dress?”
This is dangerous.
I watch her deft fingers work the laces free until the front of her dress parts and a pair of metal scissors clatters to the floor. My eyes track the falling object, confused as to why she was keeping scissors in her dress.
“What were—” My words cut off as the sight before me steals my attention. I am speechless.
“Touch me,” she says, bringing my hand to one of her breasts.
“Vok’talja,” I rasp as I run my fingers over the soft curve of flesh before brushing my thumb over the firm peak of a pink nipple. Her head falls back as I gently roll her nipple between my fingers, feeling the pulses of pleasure as they roll through her body and into mine.
“You feel so good,” she says in a breathy moan, fraying my sanity.
It is an exquisite agony. Being so close to her, touching her, feeling her pleasure, knowing there is nothing more than a layer of leather between us. Both torment and bliss.
Let go.
I do not listen to the voice. I will not.
My control is what keeps me safe. It is what ensures I do not act rashly or purely on emotion.
Without my control, I fear I would become a savage beast. But I need to taste her skin.
Feel her pleasure. It is all I can think about—calming my raging desire by sating hers.
Moving with pure instinct, I lift her hips until she is on her knees and I can wrap my mouth around one of her nipples. The taste of her skin explodes over my tongue, and I nearly sink my teeth into her. She is earth and salt and fire. My blood buzzes for more. For her.
When I flick my tongue, she lets out a whimper and grips the back of my neck.
I smile at the reaction and teasingly graze my fangs over her flesh.
The rolling pleasure I feel through our connection is remarkable.
It is as if the pleasure comes from a body part I did not know I had.
There is so much more to the Zhyrrak than I was ever told. It is remarkable.
“You taste like home,” I rumble as I grip the hem of her dress and start to pull it over her head.
Pain shoots up my side with the movement, but the sight of Amara, fully bare, makes me quickly forget the discomfort.
I run my fingers down her abdomen and watch enrapt as small bumps rise on her skin in the wake of my touch.
At the apex of her thighs, there is a patch of dark fur that I drag my claws through. “Gods, I love your body.”
Her fingers trail over my shoulders with the lightest touch. “More,” she whispers, before kissing the side of my neck and licking her way up to my ear.
I tremble when she drags her teeth over my earlobe, and my cock strains painfully against my leathers.
She moves to lower herself back into my lap, but I stop her. The thin grasp I have on my control is quickly waning.
Take her.
Gripping her hips, I stand, spin, and lay her on the bed. More pain stabs through me, but I ignore it.
“You’re going to hurt yourself,” she protests as she props herself on her elbows and watches me stand. Her tongue flicks out to wet her lips, and my knees go weak.
I take a step back, breathing deeply, drinking in the sight of her, and working to cage the darkness in me.
“I am not as breakable as you seem to think,” I pant.
She gives me a lopsided grin. “I never said you were breakable.”
Her body is a flawless feast for my eyes—every curve, every dimple, every rise and fall is absolute perfection.
Her unwrapped knee is still stained with my blood; dark hair a mess of tangles and waves; pale skin flush with arousal.
She is the most beautiful creature I have ever seen—laid bare in the middle of this nightmare like a shining beacon of light.
I have no idea how we ended up here. Somehow, in the worst moment of my life, the gods sent me a beacon. “You are perfect,” is all I can say.
“Then why are you still up there?”
“I am admiring you,” I answer, unwilling to share the truth of my distance.
She bites her bottom lip while her eyes dance over me. “How does all of this feel so right?” she asks, kicking off her shoes. “I don’t even know you, but I … it’s hard to explain. You’re just… Fuck.” Her words are fractured and confused, but I understand her meaning.
Unable to resist the pull any longer, I climb onto the bed and lie by her side.
For some reason, I still feel hesitant to touch her, but she smiles, and my apprehension melts.
“We wouldn’t be bonded if we weren’t made for each other,” I say, running my fingers down her exposed stomach and watching a shudder roll beneath her skin.
“Why do you say that?” she asks, turning on her side to face me.
I ghost a thumb over her lips. “Because your lips are the color of my favorite food, you smell like my favorite place, you look like the Goddess of War, and I have never seen someone more beautiful or fierce than you.”
Her eyes go wide, and I kiss away her surprise, needing her mouth on mine, but I am forced to pull back when her hand slides down to the waistband of my leathers. I catch her hand and guide it back to my chest. I cannot lose control with her, and if I remove the last layer between us, I will.
“Shit. I’m sorry. This is all moving too fast, isn’t it?” She looks troubled as she tries to sit.
“No,” I say, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her back down with me. “I just want to learn your body first. I want to give you pleasure. I want to know you.”
“And you don’t want me to do the same with you?”
“You have worked hard enough today. Let me do this for you,” I nearly beg. It is not the best excuse, but it is better than saying, “There is a darkness inside me that wants to do horrible things, and I do not want it to harm you.”
She pauses for a beat and raises a single brow.
“Do you know what you’re doing?” The question is playful but honest. I know very little about pleasuring a female, and if it weren’t for my brother Steinarr, I would be completely lost. Fortunately, Steinarr has taken his vow far less seriously than the rest of my siblings and enjoys sharing more details than he probably should.
But that is not my only source of knowledge.
“Did you forget I can feel your pleasure?” I ask, as I throw a leg over her body and pin her hands above her head.
She lets out a puff of air. “Well, it certainly seems like you know what you’re doing.” Her eyes trace a path down my body with hungry intent, and I love it. Others have looked at me this way before, and it always felt … uncomfortable. But not with her.
Vok, this is going to be impossible.
I lower my face to her neck, running my tongue over her thudding pulse.
“I will need you to guide me.” I nip her ear.
“To tell me what I am doing right. But first, I would like to tell you the story of the Zhyrrak.” It is important for her to know.
To give her context. Explain why she feels the way she does.
“Story time? Now?” she asks, exasperated.
“I am capable of completing more than one task at a time.”
She lets out a moan as I capture her nipple between my teeth. “A man who can multitask? How did I win this lottery?”
Working to recall the story of the Zhyrrak I learned from my father’s books—the more romanticized version—I release her hands and run the tips of my claws down her ribcage.
“My ancestors were mighty warriors. Fearsome even. It is said they got their strength from love—from the Zhyrrak bonds they had with their mates.” I press my lips above her heart.
“Their power and skill in battle were unmatched, and when they fought, they were demons.” I nip at the thin skin beneath one of her breasts, and she lets out a surprised gasp.
“It is said that when two parts of one soul find each other, their heart’s electromagnetic fields resonate at the same frequency.
When the fields interact, they strengthen and amplify, creating a bond that threads their souls together.
” I run my tongue between her breasts, tasting the salt on her skin.
“It is also said that only the Vhorathi have the ability to forge such bonds.”
“But I’m not Vhorathi.”
“It seems the gods have chosen to ignore that fact.” I grip her chin with my thumb and forefinger and ask, “Why did you accept the bond?” I was not expecting her to accept it so quickly, and it seems odd, especially considering her reluctance to believe my admiration of her.
“I’m not sure.”
My stomach drops as my thoughts turn to her bandaged knee. “Is this what you want?”
“Yes. But I want something else too.”
“And what is that?” I ask warily, praying this is not the moment I discover she was sent here for some nefarious purpose.
Her hands run up my arms in a soothing motion.
“I need you to promise that for as long as this lasts, it will be a partnership. You don’t get to order me around, or keep me in the dark, or make decisions that will affect me without talking to me first. We have to be open with each other and trust each other's judgment. Is that something you can agree to?”
I let out a held breath. “Yes, I can agree to that.” But the moment the words leave my lips, the sting of guilt burns my tongue. There are some things I cannot share with her. Not yet. I just hope she will be able to forgive me when she learns this.
I kiss her hard and deep, pouring all of my hope into the movement of my lips against hers. A bruising, painful hope for our future. And she returns that hope without restraint, whipping up a new wave of frenzy between us. A hot, powerful, desperate, frenzy.
Her legs slip around my lower back, and I can feel her aching need like it is a physical object hanging between us.
She needs you.
“You will teach me?” I ask between kisses, knowing she understands my meaning.
She nods and drags her blunt nails down my arm.
“Tell me what you need.”
Her eyes lock on mine, and she grins. “Touch me. Explore me. Do your worst.”
“Good human,” I rumble playfully.
Her lips pinch together, and her eyes turn towards the ceiling. “Well, fuck.”
“What?”
“I think you just unlocked a new kink.”
I kiss her neck. “Kink?”
“Something you like in a sexual context, but maybe not in other contexts.”
I sit and stare at her, holding her legs around my waist. “You like it when I call you, ‘human’?”
Her cheeks flush. “Uh … I guess so. Specifically, you saying, ‘good human’.” She lets out a husky laugh and gently slaps my forearm. “Ok. Enough talking, more … mouth stuff.”
Taking my time, I caress, lick, and nip every inch of her, making note of each gasp, moan, and beat of her heart.
I learn her body as I go, memorizing the things that bring her pleasure.
When I reach the base of her abdomen, the smell of her arousal floods my entire system, and I nearly roar with the overwhelming urge to rip off my leathers and bury myself in my mate.
My mate. The thought is as surprising as it is arousing.
Ignoring the incessant throb in my cock, I lift one of her ankles and kiss the length of her leg, from calf to thigh, getting drunk off the taste of her skin and the tempting sounds she makes.
Just before I reach the crease where her leg meets her center, I stop. “How am I doing?” I ask.
She looks at me with shameless desire before letting her legs fall open, inviting me in. “You’re a natural. Like a penguin on ice.”
I do not know what a penguin is, but the sight of her glistening sex urges me forward, drawing my full attention. I need to taste her. That is what she wants. I know it as clearly as I know my own name. It is a pure knowing. Instinct in its most un-evolved form.
“You want me to kiss you. Here,” I whisper as I run the backs of my fingers over her swollen mound.
“Fucking hell,” she whimpers, pushing her hips towards my hand. I brush over her again, and she nods quickly. “Yeah … that’s exactly what I want.”
My mouth quirks up in a grin. I can feel her pulse thudding between her legs as she watches me with wide eyes. Her breasts rise and fall with each hungry gasp. Her fingers dig into the mess of sheets around her.
I run my fingers through the arousal dripping from her and watch in pure awe as she bucks against my hand. She is all fire and fury and need. And I am lost in a haze of disbelief. She is real. This is real. I bring my fingers to my mouth, sucking her arousal from them and watching her watch me.
A bright red flush creeps down her neck. “Fuck… Ok.” She gasps. “Yup. This is … uh … wow.”
“What next?” I ask playfully.
“Now you continue what you started.” She pulls her feet towards her hips, opening herself further to me. “Now you kiss me.” Her eyes flick down between her legs.
As I lower myself, it becomes clear my shoulders are too broad to fit between her thighs. I grip the backs of her knees and position her legs over my shoulders, feeling pleased with my solution.
“And now?” I ask, working hard to avoid smiling. It is clear she knows I am teasing her. Her eyes are full of indignation that sends a nearly painful throb through my cock. Gods, I really do enjoy her ire.
“Now you use that clever tongue of yours,” she manages.
Tongue. That makes sense.
When my mouth is less than a breath away, I ask, “Here?”
“You’re such an asshole!” she pants. “Please lick me before I grab those fucking horns and—”
I interrupt her with a long swipe of my tongue, and she cries out a broken and exquisite sound.
I think I love this woman.