10. CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER TEN

ENDER

I tell Sera humans don't create the rules, that there isn't anything wrong with her feelings—and there's not—but it is wrong to let her get closer.

She's like a drug I crave and can't say ‘no' to, though.

There can't be an ‘us' because at best, it'll break her heart.

At worst—it'll kill her.

That's just how the mating bonds of Nephilim are. One cannot exist without the other.

Sera doesn't realize she's my mate. Before, it didn't matter.

Never in a million eons could I have guessed she might actually contemplate agreeing.

But she accepted her attraction to me despite her anger at my underhanded tactics.

Dare I say she's forgiven me?

I wasn't banking on her forgiveness. In fact, I need her hatred to force me away.

Without it, I'm as helpless as an insect drawn to the light.

Sera doesn't want me to protect her, but even without a mating bond in place, I can't help myself.

It's imprinted in my blood—tattooed in my heart.

I would die for this woman many times over just to spare her a moment of misery.

And a better man would be honest with her. A better man would keep her at arm's length.

But I need Seraphina like I need air.

I guzzle down the taste of her coating my tongue.

The intoxicating scent of my mate's arousal seeps into my skin, marking me as hers.

Her legs tighten around my waist, and I flap my wings once to lift us higher.

Stop , my brain snarls.

More , my heart begs.

One more kiss , I promise them both, and I know I've got it bad when I'm lying to myself.

The feel of Sera in my arms soothes the frayed edges of my nerves.

I forget about who I am and what's happening in The Veil.

It's just her and me.

Us.

My mate shifts, running her tongue down the length of my beak.

It sends a jolt straight to my quorvim, and I can imagine her licking me there.

She presses kisses to the dark underside and even sucks on the tip.

The sensation washes over me, and animalistic sounds tumble out of my beak at her touch.

I grapple through the fog of pleasure clouding my brain to take control again.

This isn't about me— it's about her.

A part of me wants to do anything and everything to please my mate.

The other part wants to unjustly punish her.

How dare Sera open herself up to me.

It wasn't supposed to be like this, but it is, and I can't turn my back on her in this moment of need.

I cup the rounded globes of Sera's ass, barely covered by the dress I gave her.

Then I tug her upward until she's clutching my wings for balance.

She squeezes when I run my beak across the fabric covering her pussy, and I growl.

Pain wars with pleasure within me, as my feathers are extremely sensitive.

But I focus on the taste and feel of her, instead.

Using my beak to tear away Sera's underwear, I bury my face against the apex of her thighs and just breathe.

The familiar flavor of salt and sugar makes my mouth water in anticipation.

My tongue licks a wet ling from one thigh to the other, and Sera whimpers.

The beautiful sound echoes in my head as I do it again and again.

Sera trembles in my hold, incoherent words tumbling from her lips, and I realize she's begging me.

For more.

All too happily, I comply, turning my attention from her thighs to the intoxicating scent of her pussy.

With a broad swipe of my tongue, I graze over Sera's center.

She's dripping with arousal, and I tease her wet folds before exploring inside of her.

The silken walls of my mate's pussy clamp around my tongue, sucking me deeper.

It's easy to imagine myself seated inside of her, fluttering around my quorvim.

Sera lets go of my wings, whispering her fingers over the feathers, and I moan.

I pull my tongue out of her warmth to suckle on the engorged nub right above her pussy.

She mewls, arching into my touch, and I all but swallow her whole.

"Please, Ender—"

Her desperate whimpers fuel my own need, and I drink down every sound Sera makes.

Who knows how long we hang suspended in the air until my mate dances on the brink of exploding.

It's obvious by the way the muscles in her body coil tighter and tighter under my touch.

The words falling from Sera's mouth are nearly incoherent.

I know what she needs—and I plan to give it to her—but not right now.

Soon, but not now.

I want this moment seared into every fiber of my being so that when I go to The Beyond, where all is supposed to be forgotten, I'll still remember the taste of my mate.

Because while I accept my future, I refuse to think about one where the memory of her fades with time.

All I'll have after I'm gone are these stolen moments, and I can't bear to think of those being taken from me, too.

And so I bring Sera to the very edge of coming before pulling back.

My mate tugs at my feathers, a vicious touch that anchors me from floating away with desire.

"Harder," she pants with authority.

As if she's in charge.

I deliberately brush the lightest lick over her clit just to feel her quake.

"Ender!"

Her voice breaks on a whine, going up an octave.

"Yes?"

"P-please!"

"Poor little angel."

"W-why do you call me that if we're elves?"

She's trying to regain control of herself since she realizes she can't do it to me.

"Because you're as pure as humans say they are."

Sera snorts, the delicate puff of air ruffling my feathers.

"I'm not pure ."

I chuckle at the ire in her voice, as if she's insulted that I think my mate's wholesome.

"Pure has many definitions, the core of which being authentic and genuine. There's no artifice in you—what you see is what you get. You're honest, even when it hurts."

"You make me sound like such a good person."

"Aren't you?"

"Sometimes. But I'm also petty, vindictive, vengeful, and I have to prove everyone wrong."

"Having flaws doesn't make someone impure—it makes them a person, and people make mistakes. That's part of the experience of living, but we're not starting a debate about the philosophy of human nature right now."

I go back to nuzzling the soft spot between Sera's thighs, and she gasps.

"But-but-but—"

"But nothing. You don't care, anyway. You're just trying to circumvent the situation so that you end up on top. But this isn't about you regaining control—it's about letting it go. Let go, Seraphina."

Once more, the use of her full name has a visceral reaction on my mate.

She stiffens in my arms, her mind tugging in different directions as she tries to decide what to do.

Then, she goes limp in my hold, and a swift wave of victory washes over me.

Because even though I know she doesn't want to let go, she trusts me enough to try.

And that trust is what's going to crumble the foundation of my own restraint.