Chapter 36 #4
My orgasm tore through me, my back arching and toes curling as I cried out. Still shuddering and shaking, I collapsed against Rhyan, and he gathered me into his lap, my head resting against his neck, our hearts pressed together, and beating as one.
“Fuck,” he said, brushing my hair back. He nipped at my ear. “You taste better than I remember.”
I blushed. “I thought we were supposed to get in the shower.”
“Oh,” he said, raising one eyebrow. “We are.” He locked my ankles around his back, his cock pressed against my center. The tip glistened with his own arousal. Then his hands were around my ass as I clasped my fingers around his neck.
Rhyan rose to his feet, and a second later stumbled into the shower, still holding me.
He pushed me against the wall, the tiles cool against my fevered skin.
At once, I started to arch, grinding against him.
His cock pulsed between us, and I couldn’t help but reach for him again, sliding the moisture down, and coating him with more of my own.
My lips found his neck, kissing and sucking and biting.
I needed to claim him, to brand him, to tell the whole fucking universe he was mine and I would unleash hell on anyone who tried to come between us.
I needed every lick and kiss and touch to say that there was nowhere he could be taken, nowhere he could be hidden where I wouldn’t find him, wouldn’t come for him.
No dimension, no timeline, no realm. It didn’t matter.
He was mine and he always, always would be.
We writhed together, every part of his cock rubbing against me, reigniting the heat inside as we built more friction and pleasure.
“You ready for me, partner?” he asked, one eyebrow raised.
“Yes,” I said. “Yes. Rhyan, please. Please.”
His eyes narrowed, his eyes flicking down my body and back to mine. “Please what?”
I gripped his face in my hands, pushing my hips so far forward, the head of his cock slid just barely inside.
“Please fuck me,” I gasped, pushing forward trying to pull him all the way in, to take him deeper. “Now.”
But he pulled himself back, leaving me empty.
I was near tears. One orgasm hadn’t been enough.
I needed more. I needed all of him. I needed to feel him fill me.
To make me whole. And much as I needed to claim him, I wanted him to do the same to me.
To know it was his body, his soul, his heart and mind, all that made him Rhyan doing it.
But as he watched me writhe and buck, begging him to take me, a vicious glint emerged from the emerald of his irises.
“Where did Auriel touch you?” he rasped, his voice dangerously low.
“Wh-what?” I asked.
“Where,” he demanded, “did he touch you? Was it here?” He kissed my mouth. “Here?” He licked my neck. “Here?” He pulled on my breast, squeezing it before he lowered his lips onto my nipple.
“I-I—” I was too lost in the sensations to answer.
Too muddled with my own desire for him and confusion to think straight.
“I thought—” I gasped as he sucked on my other nipple.
I bucked, but he used his body to flatten me against the wall, keeping his hips and cock cruelly away from my sex.
One hand slid down, cupping me between my legs.
“What about here?” he asked. “Did you let him touch you here?”
I cried out, as he slid two fingers inside of me, curling and pumping in and out, in and out. “I thought … ah … you weren’t … mad … about … that.”
His eyebrow arched, his nostrils flaring. “I said you didn’t have to be sorry for what you did with him. That you didn’t do anything wrong.” I frowned.
“And you didn’t,” he said, softly kissing the tip of my nose. Then he slid a third finger inside, fucking me with a bruising pace. “But I never said,” he thrust, “that I wasn’t mad.”
I panted. “You—you’re mad?” I asked. “What the hell is this?” I circled my hips against his hand, greedily seeking more friction, biting my lip as fresh waves of pleasure rounded and tightened in my core.
“Your punishment,” he said, his thumb pressing against my center. His forehead pressed against mine, angled and our lips slanted together. “I know you feel guilty.” “I do,” I panted in frustration.
“So then, do you want me to punish you?” he asked. “Give us both some satisfaction?”
“Yes,” I practically choked out the word “Do it. Punish me. Claim me. Fuck me.”
“I do claim you, Lyr. Lyriana. You were always mine. Mine since before the dawn of time.” His hand flew into my hair, his fingers grasping my hair at the base of my neck.
“And I’m going to remind you of that, remind you that I belong to you, and you belong to me and only me with every thrust. Every touch, every kiss, every time you come for the rest of your life.
I’m going to make sure you know it’s me. I’m going to make you say it.”
“I’m yours,” I gasped. “I’m yours.”
He pulled my hair at the back of my neck, the sensation more pleasurable than I’d realized, and then suddenly, his fingers flattened and he turned my head down.
“Then watch,” he said. “Watch as this cock, my cock, takes you and fills your cunt.”
He gripped himself, and then slammed into me, burying himself to the hilt in one thrust.
“Fuck,” I yelled, as he cursed. I was more than wet and ready for him, but after weeks of deprivation, my body needed a second to remember how to adjust and accommodate his length. It stung for a second, and then I stretched around him, and the pleasure began to grow and pulse, rippling through me.
His mouth was on mine, our tongues dancing as he pumped into me, slamming his hips in and out, again and again.
“Rhyan,” I yelled. I couldn’t stop. I wanted to say his name for the rest of my life. “Rhyan, Rhyan, Rhyan.”
“Yes, Lyr. Yes,” he hissed. “Tell me! Say it. Say who’s fucking you,” he growled. “Who?”
“You. You are.”
“And who do you belong to?” he asked.
“You, Rhyan. I belong to you.”
“And whose cock are you going to come all over?” he barked.
“Yours,” I cried. “Yours.”
“Then do it,” he growled. “Come on, Lyr. I feel you tightening. You’re squeezing me so fucking hard.
Come on. Come for me. Come.” His eyes flashed, boring into mine.
He had the same vulnerable look in them he had the night he died, when I picked him up in my arms, and told him he wasn’t going to die. “Lyr,” he panted. “Lyr.”
And that was all it took. I was coming, falling apart, my body trembling, my throat raw as I screamed, and tears filled my eyes.
“There you go,” he said. “There you fucking go.” He continued fucking me through every last spasm, his cock twitching inside me.
And when my toes uncurled, my body loosening like jelly, Rhyan buried his head against my neck, his hips thrusting faster and faster, moving wildly.
It was all I could do to hold on. He tightened against me, stilling suddenly, and then I felt his release spilling inside, spurting with such force, it was already sliding down my leg, mixing with my own arousal.
Rhyan roared my name, and gasped, pulling his head up, fresh tears in his eyes.
I pulled his face toward mine. My ankles locked together, keeping him deep inside me as I found his lips, kissing him.
“Rakame,” I said between kisses. “Your soul is mine.”
“Mekara,” he sobbed. “My soul is yours.”
I nodded. “Because we always find each other.”
“Always,” he said. “Are you okay? Was I—was I too rough?”
I smiled, my eyes watering. “You were perfect.” I leaned forward, kissed his tears, and buried my head against his neck, stroking his shoulders and back.
We stood like that together, our breathing slowing to a more manageable rhythm, and finally, he pulled out, hissing through his teeth. I was feeling overly sensitive, too, as I finally touched the floor of the shower, standing before him.
Rhyan hugged me, our bodies still trying to get as close as possible. We only broke apart when the water began to lose heat.
Without speaking, we both reached for the shampoo bottles, and soap, taking turns washing each other’s hair, and bodies until there was no hint of the cave left on us, no hint of the fights from earlier, no hint of anything but him and me.
Rhyan turned off the water, and stepped out first, reaching for the towel to wrap around my body. We were careful as we dried each other off, taking our time to give every inch of skin attention, and then we stumbled, exhausted, bleary-eyed and content into bed.
I laid back on the pillows, drawing Rhyan into my arms, his head resting against my breast. My fingers tangled in his hair, and for a moment he tensed.
“What happened?” I asked.
“Memory. Bad one.”
“I’m here,” I said. “And you’re here with me. We’re alive, we’re together.” I soothed the wrinkle he’d made with his brow, until his eyes closed, his breathing slowing. “It’s okay. I’ve got you.”
“Lyr,” he breathed softly. His eyes were closing, but there was still some tension in his body.
“Rhyan,” I said, shifting my hand to massage his back.
“Even after I fall asleep,” he whispered, his voice shaking. “Will you still hold me a little longer?”
“I’ll hold you, even while you’re dreaming.”
Golden light emanated from my chest, the Valalumir inside of me had awakened. I drew the blankets up over his shoulders, holding him as close as I could. And when the light faded, his breathing even, I closed my eyes, too.