25. Adelaide

25

ADELAIDE

The moon is disappearing, bringing with it the growing dawn. It's been a hell of a few days at MistHallow but I'm getting the feeling that's nothing new. My brain is screaming for rest from all these thoughts that won't leave me alone about the guys, the Strix, me .

I push the book aside as mist swirls outside, the gloomy light barely a flicker.

I'm out almost instantly, diving straight into the deep end of oblivion.

My eyes flutter open, and I'm wide awake in my tower room—except it's different. It's charged with an energy that buzzes against my skin. The air is thick with a dark, sweet scent that wraps around me like a blanket.

My heart races. Shadows cling to the corners, watching, waiting. It feels like the room is alive and hungry, and it matches the desire building inside me.

I moan as desire floods over me. I'm alone, but it doesn't feel that way. There's a presence here, familiar and calling to the supernatural part of me that's been stirring under my skin all my life and more so since I learned what I am.

"Who's there," I mumble, challenging the shadows, sensing another presence.

The expectation grows, thick and irresistible. I can almost taste it, and it tastes like power, like secrets shared in the dead of night. It's intoxicating.

Zaiah appears with those trouble-promising eyes. "Knew it was you," I mutter, but before I can say more, his presence surrounds me, drawing me in like a magnet.

His voice is a caress that sets my nerves on edge. "Good things come to those who wait, Adelaide."

"Screw waiting."

He grins, sharp and quick. "As you wish."

"Not a wish," I murmur as he steps closer, close enough that I feel his heat. It's unnatural, this pull between us, but it's real as the ground beneath me. His fingers trail up my arm, light but searing.

"Fuck," I breathe, my skin coming alive under his touch.

"Is that an invitation?" Zaiah teases, but his eyes hold a hunger that tells me he's serious.

"Maybe," I shoot back, trying to keep my voice steady. I can feel the Vesper inside me responding to his djinn magick, rising to the surface. It's there, I know it.

His hand hovers near my cheek, and my body reacts, arching towards him. My breath hitches, a moan escaping me. "Let me touch you, Adelaide. I can make you feel things you have never experienced before."

"Please," I pant, wondering in the back of my mind why I'm allowing this. "Zaiah—" I don't finish because his touch wipes every thought from my mind as he cups my cheek, and I gasp.

"Shh," he says, close now. "Just feel, Adelaide. No more words."

The room shifts, turning into a lush garden under a moonlit sky. It's like some dark Eden, filled with the scent of jasmine that wraps around us, thick and intoxicating.

"Where are we?" I whisper, turning in a circle to gaze at the wonder around me.

"Somewhere perfect," Zaiah murmurs.

The sight takes my breath away. He is like some naked dark god, with powerful lines and stunning beauty. My fingers itch to touch him, to confirm he's real.

I reach out, trailing my hands over his chest. His warmth sears me. I can feel his heartbeat, the ripple of muscle. I look down as the breeze caresses my sensitive skin, and I notice I'm naked, too.

How did that happen?

"Keep touching me, Adelaide. It feels so good."

Every touch sends shockwaves of desire through me that have been unknown to me before now. I've had sex. Twice. Kissed a few guys here and there. Being touch aversive makes it hard to want to be with someone in this way, but Zaiah is smashing those walls down without even really doing anything except standing there, naked, hot, with a cock the size of… I gulp. I can't even compare it to anything.

His arms go around me, pulling me flush against him. The contact is electric as my breasts squash up against his chest.

"Zaiah," I murmur, but it sounds more like a plea than anything else. "What are you doing to me?"

"Only what you want," he whispers in my ear. "Only what you've always wanted."

"Zaiah," I breathe out, my voice trembling. He grins, that wicked curve of his lips promising trouble.

"My Adelaide," he murmurs, and then his mouth is on mine. The kiss isn't just a meeting of lips; it's a clash of who we are—Vesper and djinn, bound by night whispers and unspoken secrets. His lips are crushing mine, drawing out a response from me that's both primal and new.

I don't know how to navigate this, to let go without losing myself. But as our mouths move in sync, I realise I don't need to know. It's about trusting him, about drowning in the moment.

His fingers trail fire down my spine, each touch a spark. The garden fades, the jasmine scent just an echo behind the storm he's stirring within me.

"Fuck," I gasp against his mouth, and he chuckles, the sound vibrating through me. His hands roam possessively, fanning the flames higher.

"Let it burn, Addy," Zaiah breathes, his voice laced with sin. "Let it consume you."

When he guides us to down, I'm back on my bed, the cool sheets welcome against the heat of Zaiah's skin as he presses down on me. His hips grind against mine, drawing out ragged moans from deep in my soul.

"Fuck, Zaiah," I pant. "Don't stop."

"Never," he growls, his voice raw.

He plunges his cock inside my pussy with one swift stroke, and I cry out, arching my back and bucking my hips. It's hard and fast, then achingly slow, teasing me to the edge. Each thrust stokes the fire in my blood, the Vesper part of me alive and clawing at the surface.

"Addy," Zaiah whispers, his lips brushing my ear. "You feel so fucking good."

His words are a caress as I roll us over, needing to take control. His hands explore every inch of me, cupping my breasts and pinching my nipples. The room is a blur as I circle my hips, driving us both wild.

"That's it, Addy. Make me come like a good boy."

My eyes snap open at these murmured words that have lit a whole new fire in me. "Fuck," I gasp.

"More," he begs shamelessly. "Give me more."

I respond by capturing his mouth in another kiss, silencing his pleas as I pick up the pace, riding him hard and fast.

"Christ, you're tight," he mutters. His fingers find my clit, circling slowly, which has me teetering on the edge.

But I don't want it yet. I want this to last.

"Ride me with your vampire speed," he pants. "Give me everything."

I hesitate. I don't have vampire speed.

But even as I think it, I know it's not true. I can feel it bubbling up. I can feel my hips moving faster.

My focus sharpens, and an ache in my teeth has me gasping in pain. Running my tongue over my top teeth, I hiss when I slice my tongue open. "Fuck," I mutter. My nails have sharpened to claws, and I dig them into his chest.

He groans, his cock jerking wildly inside me as I turn him on. "That's it, Mistress. Hurt me, make me bleed for you."

"Zaiah..." His name is a mantra, a prayer, as I lose myself in the sensation. There's no room for thought, only feeling—the rod of his cock buried deep inside me, the pressure of his fingers, the relentless build of pleasure.

"Come for me, Addy," Zaiah urges, his voice desperate for my release. "I need to feel you."

My response is a muffled cry, my body tightens as I convulse, my pussy clutching his cock as I come apart. Zaiah's groans mix with my moans, raw and unfiltered.

"Fuck, yes," I gasp, riding out the waves of my climax.

Zaiah grips my hips and, with a quick motion, slams me back to the bed, pounding into me so hard I think I might break.

His movements become erratic, giving way to something primal. I wrap my legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, and with one final thrust, he stiffens above me as he unloads into me, filling my pussy with so much cum, I can feel it sliding back out.

Panting, I cling to Zaiah, our sweat-slicked bodies pressed against each other as we both reach that shattering brink. His cock pulses inside me, each thrust sending shockwaves through my core.

"Addy," he growls, and the sound of my name on his lips is like a spark to tinder.

"Zaiah, I—" Words fail me; they're useless when every part of me is focused on this crescendo of pleasure. But it's not just the orgasm. It's the touch. The intimacy of the moment, the connection of our souls. Tears fill my eyes as the thought of him leaving me is agonising.

For a moment, time stills. We're frozen in time, chests heaving, the only sound our ragged breaths syncing in the silence.

But then what I know is reality, seeps back in. The dream's grip loosens, but the intensity of what we've shared lingers, tethering me to Zaiah with an invisible thread.

"Fuck, I don't want this to end," I whisper, feeling the dreamworld slip away as I hold on tight to his strong arms to keep him with me.

Zaiah's fingers trace my jawline, a quiet promise in the gesture. "I'm never far away, Addy."

And then it's just darkness, the memory of his touch burning on my skin. I'm left gasping for air, aching for more, knowing that when I open my eyes, the room will be empty—but the connection, that fierce and fiery bond that I now know is the tugging in my soul, will remain.

"No!"

My shout jars me. My eyes snap open, I'm met with the cold emptiness of my tower room. My skin prickles with lingering heat, Zaiah's touch is etched into every nerve ending. The sheets underneath me are damp, and I'm naked and aching.

"Fuck," I mutter, my heart still racing. The sensation of Zaiah's lips on mine clings stubbornly, refusing to fade with the rest of the dream.

But it wasn't a dream. I know it wasn't.

My body rebels against the loneliness that descends. The craving is clawing at my insides. The need to be with Zaiah, to have his arms around me, his lips on mine, his cock inside me. The logical part of my brain wants to believe it was just a dream, but the raw, primal part whispers that it was something more—a connection, a bond that spans beyond the physical realm.

My hands tremble as I rake my fingers through my hair, and I run my tongue over my regular teeth with crushing disappointment. "What have you done to me?"

I swing my legs out of bed and take the stairs to the bathroom to clean up.

Seeing the blood as I wipe, I groan. "Perfect fucking timing, as always," I mutter and reach for the tampons as a large black figure smacks against the window of the tower, somehow clinging to the sheer glass pane, the shape of his wings showing me it's a bat.

"Corvus," I mutter and glance down. "Oh, for fuck's sake! Are you kidding me?"