38. Bodin
Chapter 38
Bodin
W illow’s fingers sink deeper behind the waistband of my pants.
I move to tug her back out, but a stone block grazes my elbow. I return my hand to the frame, angling my body to take the hit instead of her, but it doesn’t come. And she doesn’t appear to notice. Her head is dipped, her breath hot against my bare belly.
“Why are you avoiding me?” she repeats.
“Are you talking to my cock?”
“Maybe he’ll actually give me answers. He seems more honest than you.”
I squeeze my eyes shut. Every brain cell I own zeroes in on her touch, begging her to move a little to the left. Yes. One more swipe—a scrape against the tip. Fuck me, how I ache to take her. Here. Now, while we’re surrounded by danger.
“Then do it.”
The voice is in my head. I tense, then realize who it is and exhale.
“What do you want, Styx?” I send back to him.
The brush of his presence filters in, sucking more air from the stifling space.
Willow giggles. She glances up at me and then mumbles, “But he’ll be even grumpier.”
My brows lift. “Are you speaking to Styx?”
“Maybe.” She swipes a fingertip across my tip. My cock jerks.
“Gods-dammit. Stop that.”
“Is that what you really want?” She lowers, sinking carefully onto her knees. “Help me understand, Bodin. Why did you sleep in the stables?”
“I—” Bite my inner cheek until it bleeds. The coppery taste triggers a primal hunger in me. My hands drop, slip under her arms, and wrench her back to her feet. I pin her against the frame and growl, “Stop courting danger.”
Her worried eyes dart between mine. “You’re actually afraid for me—that I’ll get hurt.”
It hasn’t escaped my notice that Styx has gone quiet or left. Typical, he swans in here to ensure we’re not dying, causes havoc, and then leaves. I squeeze my eyes shut, but I can’t answer Willow.
“Is it something to do with your nightmare?” she prompts. “The one about the feathers?”
Somehow, I nod.
“Oh, Bodin.” The pity in her voice doesn’t have me fuming. It has me pushing against her until her nose hits my chest in some kind of bastardized version of an embrace. She inhales deeply. “ Crimson , you smell so good.” There is a beat of silence. Then, “I’m not going to break, you know.”
It’s my turn to gasp. How can she—I frown at her soft, compassionate smile.
“I saw your nightmare, remember?” She rubs idle circles on my lower back. “Are you remembering things from your past?”
“Yes,” I grunt. My frown deepens. “Since you, since I tasted you, fractured memories continue to plague me. You say you won’t break, but you don’t know how hard I can push.”
“It’s my fault.” She tenses.
An apology?
“No.” I take her chin a little too forcefully. “Don’t think that. This is me— my feelings, Emrys’s, Varen’s, all of us—our shared trauma is not your responsibility, nor is it your duty.”
“I know.” Her eyes glimmer in the shadowy light. “But it’s my honor.”
I blink. “What do you mean?”
She presses her lips to my heart. “I want to help you heal. I want to—” She inhales against my skin, sucking in my scent and groaning on the exhale. “I want to be close to you, to take care of you, and to serve you.”
“Queens don’t serve. They rule.”
“ Mates are equal.” She slides down my body again, kissing my clenched stomach as she lowers to her knees. Fuck me, I let her.
I let her tongue swirl over my skin. I inch backward and greedily watch her reaction as she comes face-to-face with the bulge straining my breeches. Her eyes widen and fill with heady lust.
“You want me, Bodin,” she murmurs, plucking open the buttons until the tip of my cock shows.
Don’t look. Don’t watch her fulfill your wildest fantasy.
Fabric scrapes down my hips. I squeeze my eyes shut when my erection springs free of its captivity, heavy and thick. I groan at the wet sound of her licking her lips.
“You can’t deny it.” Hot breath tingles the tip of my cock. “But you can tell me to stop. You have that power now. You have a choice.”
I shake my head, braids clinking. “Not here.”
“We have space.”
“I don’t.”
I fist her hair and tilt her face upward. With the other arm braced against the doorframe, I hold my control by a thread. Can’t she see that? But her golden eyes are fever bright as they meet mine.
Gold . . . so close to yellow. The color once gave me nightmares but now fills me with longing, with insatiable need. It feels right. Good.
She parts those fucking lips and sticks her tongue out. Waits. It is an offer, an invitation.
The castle still moves around us. It’s slower, almost sluggish. She’s right. We have room. My legs are braced wide. They’ll be hit first. Not that the walls are closing in. It’s almost as if the castle is her partner in crime, plotting to force us together, to obliterate my wall of resistance.
And Styx has seemingly deemed we’re safe. He’s deserted us.
“You have a death wish,” I mutter.
She snorts. “Someone thinks highly of his dick.”
Her breath tingles the wet tip of my cock. It hurts how much I want to—need to—take my length and— fuck it. I let go of her hair and fist myself. Pleasure skates up my spine. Another drop of cum beads on my tip, and I growl out some kind of nonsensical noise. I lower the tip of my cock to her open mouth but then lift it when she tries to lick.
“No,” I growl. “No tongue yet.”
Just those tempting lips.
A flash of sass. She swallows and opens her mouth—no tongue out, just the meek offering of a soft, wet, and tight space. I swipe the blunt tip of my cock along her lower lip, leaving a glittering line behind.
“Now, use your tongue,” I growl. “Nice and slow along your lip. Taste me.”
Her tongue darts out. Licks her lip. Groans. Pants and fidgets. Needy, I realize. The scent of her arousal is heady, blooming, and growing within our cramped space. This need is animal. I have nothing to compare it to except the desire to hunt, claim, destroy, and consume. But I can’t get to her pussy to sate my thirst. Not here. And she knows it.
Emrys would say she’s manipulating me, that she’s using my desire to break my resolve. She’ll make me do something horrible for her in return. She’ll warp my mind.
He couldn’t be further from the truth. She’s freeing me. She’s showing me she’s unafraid of my passion, my hunger. She wants us to be equal. It’s terrifying and exhilarating all at once.
Gold eyes narrow. Harden. “Stick it in, or I’ll take it.”
I chuckle. “You think you can take it from me?”
She sinks her teeth into my thigh, clamping hard until I hiss. When I grab her hair with two fists, she smirks and takes my cock. Pumps. I am too overcome with pleasure to think of?—
Licks.
Swirls her tongue.
Nibbles.
“Fuck,” I grunt and grip the doorframe to stop my knees buckling. She takes me a little deeper. Over her tongue until my crown touches the back of her throat. She comes off me, and I almost weep from the loss. It was over too soon.
“Mmm,” she hums. More pumping and licking as she contemplates my cock. “You might be right.”
“What?”
“I’m not sure if I can take you all the way. You’re so big.”
I growl, hook my finger into her mouth, open her wide. The thought of not being able to fit drives me mad. My voice deepens, “You can take me.”
Pure sensual mischief. Smug.
“You’re teasing,” I growl.
“And you’re holding back. Don’t.”
She takes me deep into her throat. My whole world lives inside her mouth, and I’m obsessed. I pull out and then thrust in. Again. Deeper. Harder. Longer. I fuck her mouth until she suddenly grips my ass and stops my hips from flexing back, forcing me to remain gripped in the tight channel.
That’s all it takes, and hot pleasure explodes. I come hard, spurting my release. Stars burst in the shadows. Can’t breathe. Can’t—she makes a choking sound, and my heart wrenches. I’ve broken her.
I try to yank out, but she snarls and fights me. Pumps me harder. I let her drink me up, milk every last drop, and groan at the cathartic satisfaction of submission. I worried I’d lose control, but that’s impossible when she dominates. In this moment, I realize it’s not me who has control. She does. Of me. I would do anything for her. Anything.
When there’s nothing left for me to give, she wipes the corner of her lips with her thumb, flashing tiny fangs.
“What do I taste like?” I breathe, helping her stand.
“Good,” she smirks. “See for yourself.”
Her kiss releases more hunger within me. I’m about ready to devour her, to rip her to shreds with this new obsession of mine.
But the walls stop moving. A path opens to my right—blocks of stone clank and thud along the corridor leading to our private wing. Further down the hall, the door opens wide, and I see my bed. Willow laughs when the little beastie comes bounding out, running hard and fast toward her.
Her eyes meet mine, a mix of satisfaction, tenderness, and defiance. She jogs out, arms wide. The dragon leaps, half flying, half climbing up her body. She skillfully catches it as it licks her face.
“I missed you too, Hunt.” She turns back to me, glances down, and says, “You going to stand there with your dick out, or are you escorting me back to my bed?”
My jaw clicks shut. I tug my pants back up and tuck myself in. “ Your bed?”
“Well, Fox’s bed. You were such a good little boy,” she coos. Not at me. “Attacking that big bad nightmare to keep me safe.” Another kiss on his bony skull. “You hardly scratched me this time, too!”
Fucking little wildling, taking all the credit. “I should put you back in your cage.”
She gasps and spears me with volatile eyes. “You kept him in a cage?”
“He . . . I . . .” I swear the wildling pokes its tongue at me.
She flattens her lips, then coos at the dragon, “You can sleep with me tonight in Fox’s room. We don’t need wool-headed mates sharing our beds until they learn to share their fears, too.”
What?
No!
But she’s already tucking the dragon into her arms and striding down the hall. Harumphing, I jog toward her, place my hand on her lower back, and keep walking.
Toward my bed.