15. Lyra

15

LYRA

I 'm trembling, my fists clenched at my sides as I glare up at Sariel. How dare he dismiss my concerns about the trials? The arrogance of this xaphan infuriates me, yet I can't ignore the way my skin tingles with his proximity.

"You're lying," I hiss through gritted teeth. "I know something's not right with these trials."

Sariel's golden eyes narrow, his jaw clenching. "Watch your tongue."

He leans closer to me, so close there's almost no space, and I want to close what little is left. I hate how my body reacts to him, how I crave his touch even as I want to slap that smug look off his face.

"Don't patronize me," I snap, taking a step closer. "I'm not some naive human you can just brush aside."

Sariel's wings rustle, curling around us both. The soft brush of feathers against my arms makes my breath catch. We're so close now, I can feel the heat radiating from his body.

"Is that so?" he murmurs, his voice low and dangerous. "Then prove it."

My heart hammers in my chest as Sariel leans in, his breath hot on my cheek. I should push him away, should focus on the trials and my goal of earning my wings. But the intensity in his gaze holds me captive.

"I-I don't have to prove anything to you," I stammer, my resolve weakening with each passing second.

Sariel's hand comes up to cup my face, his touch surprisingly gentle. "No," he agrees, "you don't. But I think you want to."

I swallow hard, torn between desire and anger. Sariel represents everything I've fought against, everything that's held me back. Yet he's also the first person to make me feel truly seen, truly wanted.

"This is wrong," I whisper, even as I lean into his touch.

"Then tell me to stop," Sariel challenges, his lips hovering mere inches from mine.

I know I should. I know giving in could ruin everything. But as I stare into those golden eyes, I realize I don't want him to stop. I want this moment, consequences be damned.

I grab the front of Sariel's tunic, the smooth fabric bunching under my fingers, and pull him into a deep kiss. Unlike our first time, this isn't fueled by anger but a desperate need that claws at my insides.

His lips meet mine with equal fervor, our breaths mingling, teeth clashing. We're all hunger and urgency, pulling at each other with desperation instead of hatred.

Sariel's strong arms wrap around me, lifting me off the ground. I gasp into his mouth, the sensation of weightlessness sending a thrill through me. He carries me to his bed, laying me down gently, his body covering mine.

His lips trail down my neck, each kiss burning into my skin. I arch into him, a soft moan escaping my lips. His hands, those strong, capable hands, slide down my sides, slowly pulling off my shirt. The cool air hits my exposed skin, and I shiver, but not from cold.

Sariel's gaze, molten and intense, roams over me. He leans down, capturing my lips again in a searing kiss. His fingers trace the waistband of my pants, sending shivers of anticipation through me. Slowly, he slides them off, his lips following the path, kissing every inch of skin he reveals.

Every moment is filled with tension, like we're memorizing each other. His touch, his kiss, his scent—they all intoxicate me, make me forget everything but him. I reach up, tangling my fingers in his silver-white hair, pulling him closer.

He chuckles against my skin, the sound low and throaty. "Eager, little nexari?" he murmurs, his breath hot on my stomach.

I don't have a response, only a need that grows more urgent with each passing second. I pull at his tunic, desperate to feel his skin against mine. He obliges, shrugging out of it, revealing muscles honed by centuries of battle.

His wings rustle, the feathers brushing against me, adding another layer of sensation. He leans down, capturing my lips again, his body pressing against mine.

"My only regret," he whispers, his voice low and husky, "was that I did not get to taste you this time." He nips at my bottom lip. "I won't be making the same mistake twice."

Sariel trails kisses down my body, his lips lingering on my hips, my thighs. He looks up at me, his golden eyes molten with desire. "You're mine, little nexari," he growls. "Every inch of you."

He dives between my legs, his tongue and fingers working in tandem. I gasp, my back arching off the bed. Pleasure spirals through me, sharp and intense. His tongue is relentless, his fingers expertly playing my body like an instrument.

I clutch at the sheets, my breath coming in short gasps. "Sariel," I moan, his name a plea and a prayer.

He growls against me, the vibration sending a new wave of pleasure coursing through me. I can feel the tension building, the pressure coiling in my core. His fingers curl inside me, hitting a spot that makes me see stars.

"Come for me, Lyra," he whispers against my skin. "Let me taste you."

His words push me over the edge. Pleasure crashes through me, wave after wave. My body convulses, my breath catching in my throat. I can feel his tongue, his fingers, drawing out every last drop of pleasure.

I'm still trembling, my body tingling with the aftermath of pleasure. Sariel kisses up my body, his lips lingering on every inch of skin as if it were sacred ground. He whispers against my collarbone, "I believe you have something to prove, little nexari." His voice is husky, filled with a desire that echoes my own.

He climbs off the bed, and I prop myself up on my elbows to watch him. He pulls off his tunic, revealing his chiseled body—every muscle honed to perfection, every line a testament to his strength. I can't help but marvel at him; he's a work of art, a sculpture carved by the hands of some divine being.

His hands move to his pants, unlacing them slowly, deliberately. He pulls them down, and I squirm, a whimper escaping my lips at the sight of him. He strokes himself, his golden eyes locked onto mine, and I can feel the heat building inside me again.

"Sariel," I moan, squirming as I watch him pump his length. And he must see the desire on my face because he stalks toward the bed, not making me wait any longer.

Sariel crawls back over my body, his wings rustling softly. He flips us so that he's underneath me, propping me up on top of him. His hands grip my hips firmly, and he looks up at me with an intensity that steals my breath.

"Ride me," he demands, his voice a low growl that sends shivers down my spine. There's no room for argument, no space for doubt. He's in charge, and I'm more than willing to follow his lead.

I position myself, my hands resting on his chest for support. His skin is hot under my touch, his heartbeat steady and strong. I can feel him pressing against me, and I bite my lip, anticipating stretching around him, which seems impossible. I know I did it once, but he's so big.

His grip on my hips tightens, his fingers digging into my flesh. "Now, Lyra," he commands, his voice rough with desire. I obey, lowering myself onto him, my breath hitching as he fills me completely.

His eyes never leave mine as I start to move, finding a rhythm that feels right, feels natural. His hands guide me, his hips rising to meet mine with each thrust. The room fills with the sound of our bodies coming together, our breaths mingling, our moans echoing off the walls.

"That's it, little nexari," he murmurs, his voice a deep rumble that vibrates through me. "Take what you need."

I ride Sariel furiously, my hips moving in a frantic rhythm. His hands are everywhere, gripping my thighs, sliding up to cup my breasts. He pinches my nipples, rolling them between his fingers, sending jolts of pleasure straight to my core. I gasp, my head falling back as I feel my second climax building.

"Please," I beg, my voice barely a whisper. "Fuck me, Sariel."

He growls, a low, primal sound that makes my pussy clench. His hands move to my hips, gripping them tightly. He starts to move, thrusting up into me with a force that steals my breath.

I cling to his shoulders, my nails digging into his skin as I meet each of his thrusts with my own desperate movements. I can feel the pleasure building, coiling tightly in my core. Sariel's grip on my hips tightens, his fingers digging into my flesh as he drives into me with a relentless pace.

"Come with me, little nexari," he demands, his voice rough and commanding. "Let me feel you come around my cock."

His words push me over the edge. I cry out, my body convulsing as pleasure crashes through me. I can feel him coming too, his cock pulsing inside me as he finds his own release. We cling to each other, our bodies shaking with the force of our shared climax.

I collapse onto his chest, my breath coming in ragged gasps. Sariel's arms wrap around me, holding me close as our hearts pound in sync. I can feel the rise and fall of his chest beneath me, the steady thrum of his heartbeat against my ear.

Instantly, the world tries to press in. Confusion threatens to tear the peace from my mind, anger threatens to heat my veins. There are hundreds of reasons I shouldn't be here with Sariel — with a xaphan — right now, but I don't care.

For one fucking second, I'm going to ignore them.