Chapter 41
Elysia’s hand went to his belt, but she stopped, her fingers curled around the buckle. “Anything else I need to know?”
Aidan leaned over her, planting his hands on the desk, and invading her space until she was gripping his belt and pulling back away from him. Her abs quivered, but she stayed there, face tilted up, waiting, and drowned in his scent.
He smiled at the sight of her clinging and hovering beneath him, a breath away from falling onto the desk.
“Sure,” he said casually. “The talisman is yours.”
She blinked in surprise, losing her coy composure as she let go, catching herself sharply on her elbows.
“What do you mean, it’s mine?”
Aidan drew back, placing his hands above her knees.
The firm pressure of his palms inching up her thighs was an exquisite torture.
His hands stopped on her hips, her nightgown bunched up and simple black undergarments exposed.
Thumb twitching over the seam of her panties, his brow creased.
No longer paying attention to their conversation, he stepped back, his fiery gaze once again roving over her.
One maroon strap had fallen down, exposing the soft swell of her breast, the rest of her nightgown shoved up around her hips, her body propped up on his desk on display.
“Better than I ever could have imagined,” he murmured.
“Aidan,” she chastised, “how is the talisman mine?”
He shook his head as if to clear his thoughts and fixed his heated attention on her face. “I confess my love, my obsession, and you sink your teeth in for another secret?”
One corner of his mouth curved up as his movements turned predatory, his trousers brushing against her bare skin as he came close enough to press his large palm over her clavicle and throat, adding force until she narrowed her eyes and allowed him to lower her completely to the desk.
Still holding her down, he extricated the pen from her nightgown, and ripped the cap off with his teeth to reveal the curved metal nib. Focused, he held her still, and began to write on the smooth skin of her stomach.
Has he lost his mind? She attempted to sit up, but soot-stained shadows shot out, holding her for him, freeing his hand to slip under her nightgown against her ribs as he wrote.
“Aidan, what in the realms are you doing?” Heart tender from his professions and panties damp from his touch, her irritation knew no bounds.
His smirk grew wider the longer he scratched away at her skin. Intent on his work, he spat the pen cap to the side so he could talk. “I told you what I was going to do.”
His earlier words played back in her mind. Either give me my pen back and leave, or I’m going to spread you across this desk and work this out on you.
“You are not running odds on my skin right now.” Her voice became dangerous, but she still couldn’t move.
“I am,” he returned, voice matter of fact.
Peering down as much as the shadows allowed, she saw her stomach was an illegible mess of scrawling black ink, and he was moving dangerously close to her panty line.
“Aidan.”
“Thorn.”
His fingers hooked under the black cotton fabric, and his brow furrowed in concentration as he slid her panties down just enough to write another line.
The side of his hand smeared the wet ink across her skin, extending words and numbers past their form.
A pillow of soot slid beneath her head as he continued his work.
Lazily, her hooded gaze followed his every movement, her breath inhaling as he incrementally slid down her panties again.
She squirmed, the soot shadows tightening, then relaxing when she held still.
Wet heat dampened the space between her legs, and the pen briefly stopped, his fingers gripping against her as his nostrils flared before he returned to his work.
His blue eyes never wavered from her skin, the pen nib scratching and teasing with its cool sensation on her warm body.
He paused, stretching the fabric over the flare of her hips as he lowered them just enough for another line.
Hovering the pen over her skin, he looked up at her, blue fires blazing and dark hair out of place.
Desire dripped through her, her mind going blissfully empty of every single thought as his mouth and hot breath grew close to her core.
Sleeves rolled and shirt half undone, his forearms flexed, showing off both his golden strands and asphodel torch as the metal nib glided over her most private skin.
“The odds are steadily improving.” His low voice vibrated over her, and she squirmed.
His mouth twitched, a soft laugh falling from his lips. Thumb brushing over her ribs, he grazed the bottom of her breast, making her squirm even harder, fighting against the dark bands that held her as he wrote.
Already breathless, she murmured into the dark. “And what odds are those?”
The pen stopped.
“You naked on my desk letting me fuck you until every doubt of how I feel is forever gone from your mind and body.”
She choked, her gaze locking with his. “You could try.” She hadn’t meant the words to be a taunt, but by the dark grin on Aidan’s face that was exactly how they’d been received.
The words had barely left her mouth when her nightgown and panties were gone. Aidan once again paused, the moonlight illuminating his skin. Down to fitted shorts, he admired her, his hand stroking over himself.
He nodded slowly, his voice deep. “I’ve never been much for trying.”
Restraints gone, she lifted one bare shoulder in invitation, and he chuckled before stalking between her dangling legs. Abruptly lifting her upright, he slid her ass to the edge of the desk.
“Last chance.” Both hands held her head now, his thumbs framing her jaw.
Distracted, she gripped the wooden desk, swaying into him and kissing his chest. “For what?”
“To keep your distance. You can walk out and go back to your silent wanting.”
The tips of her breasts scraped lightly against his bare chest, her hands moving to his back, exploring as she pressed up against him. “As if I’m the only one who’s been silently wanting.”
He lifted her chin, claiming her gaze, his voice turning smoky like his power. “I’ve bound you to me through death and realm. You spoke your promise to stand by me, and it gleams on our skin. But do you want to be mine?”
Her tongue refused to move as she stared up at him.
“I’m not a half-in sort of person, Thorn. I need to hear you say it.”
She nodded with her face in his hands. In the past, she would have found a way to twist what happened between them until she could write it off as only sex, or to flit anxiously between emotion and the physical, never allowing it to come together all at once.
It was unsurprising he needed to hear her say it.
“Tell me what you want,” he coaxed. The dark music of his voice drew out shivers of need, making her want to pull him tighter against her.
Her gaze nervously fled from his. “I want—”
“Eyes on me,” he corrected gently, and a heady heat washed over her again.
“I want to be yours,” she whispered.
A flash of a blinding, satisfied smile rewarded her, and then he moved.
Hands lost in her hair, the god of the dead kissed her mouth for the first time, his lips worshipful against hers.
Her body rocked back under the weight of his touch.
Relief, desire, and want all threaded together, overwhelming her as he groaned with his mouth still pressed to hers, his breath ghosting over her.
“Finally,” he exhaled. The word was only half out—likely escaped without permission—when his blue eyes brightened, the flames shuddered in the dark of the room and his mouth stole hers again.
His kiss changed then, deepening as he held her to him, lifting her until she rose to her knees on the hard wood of the desk.
Bergamot and the warm scent of his skin lulled her as her head dropped back, his kisses exploring her jaw to her neck, fingers tangling in her hair before he retraced his steps to her face where he drank deeply from her mouth.
Aidan continued to taste her. Plunging into her mouth, tongue sweeping hers as she clutched him, needy in her want for more.
The taste of him had her spinning, her body bending and seeking his without thought.
Molten beneath his touch, she was ready when his strong fingers finally slid through her heat.
Over and over, he teased her with smooth, gentle strokes that left her desperate for more.
Still on her knees, her mouth parted on a heavy breath and a flush spread across her chest. Elysia clamped down on his shoulders and writhed against his fingers, chasing what she wanted.
Pausing, he cupped her firmly, and she moaned at the pressure.
He kissed below her poplar-leaf-marked ear, his voice a rumble against her. “Patience. I’ve waited so long.”
Her blood sang at the yearning ache in his words and how they flooded her with a sense of power.
One arm behind her knees, he lifted her again and wordlessly sent every last item on his desk flying on a sharp crack of soot-stained shadow, leaving the desk empty but for her.
The oil lamp crashed against the rug, flames spluttering as they died out, and his precious ledgers lay useless and stained from dirty oil.
Sprawled out on his desk, naked with her hair fanned out around her, her pulse thumped in her throat as he finally dropped the last of his clothing to the floor. She swallowed, her mouth going dry as he stood over her.
Moonlight cast in through the window, catching every lean, sculpted line and scar of the death god before her.
“You’re beautiful,” she whispered.