66. Chapter Sixty-Six

“ Oh. My. Fucking. Gods. Kier—”

“Shhh, Arken. I know. I know,” I said, gently pushing her hair back from her brow, slick with sweat.

My other hand remained relentless, quickening my ministrations around her clit as she rode me into oblivion. She was following her instructions quite well, only using my name—or parts of it, I supposed—while she screamed out with pleasure.

“You’re doing so well,” I crooned before the sharp bite of my palm met her ass once more.

“Fffffuck,” she hissed as her body tensed beneath the blow.

I felt her tighten around my cock again and knew she was getting closer to release. I gave the area where I’d struck her another soft caress, loving the feel of her flesh as it raised and warmed beneath my hands.

Her body relaxed again, and I was sure the sting had started to fade into the sweeter ache that she’d been craving. It was too dark in here to tell, but I secretly hoped that I was leaving a mark or two. I wanted her to remember this tomorrow.

We continued on like that for some time, her hips finding their eager rhythm on top of me, occasionally tipping her head back to moan, or—when I was luckiest—cry out my name as I thrust into her, hard.

A few of her screams had been intense when I’d hit her. Every time, I would pause to check in on her, just to find an unholy smile plastered across her face. It was a gorgeous addition to the sweat and the absolute mess I’d made of her hair.

Such a carnal little creature.

“Getting close, kenna?” I asked as her cadence slowed, noticing how she began to still beneath my touch.

The Scáthic had just slipped out. Not that she could possibly speak the language, and even if she had noticed the term in her current state, she wouldn’t have realized that I’d just called her my lover in my mother tongue.

Careful.

“Yessss— Yes, Sir.”

Gods, she had to be exhausted by now, and yet she still corrected herself, following her instructions. That shy embarrassment had faded, and now the honorific simply spilled from her lips like a prayer.

Flawless.

In one fluid motion, I shifted my hips and used the strength of my legs—what little remained at this point—to pull myself out from underneath her. With a flick of my wrist, the shadowy knots I’d crafted to keep her bound dissipated. I tugged on her arm to guide her off the bed, pushing her back into our original position. Her core had to be burning, riding me with such intensity. And without the help of her hands to keep herself steady…

It was honestly incredible how well she’d done. She never ceased to amaze me.

“Ready, sweetheart?”

She whined, a little incoherently, but it sounded like approval—or maybe it was more of a beg. Either way, her aggressive nod was the confirmation I needed.

I made quick work of her pleasure in that position, thrusting into her hard and fast, losing myself in her—getting close myself. With a certain finality, I pulled Arken up by the throat—so violent and abrupt that she gasped, her back arching to meet my chest—and bit down on her neck. Almost hard enough to break skin. Almost.

As she tensed and tightened, trembling around my cock again, we found our final release together—so raw and perfect that it left us both shivering in the afterglow as we breathlessly collapsed back into bed.

So. Fucking. Flawless.

Arken was already on the verge of sleep, nestling herself in my arms, head cradled against my chest. I could feel her chest rise and fall, her breathing slowing into the calm, steady cadence of comfort. I couldn’t say I was surprised, either. I had counted at least four times where she had found release, calling out my name. I was blissfully sated, myself—still intoxicated by the honor of her submission. Of her pleasure. Her pain.

“Sometimes I think we really were,” she murmured dreamily, clearly still adrift in her own submissive headspace.

“What’s that, sweetheart?” I asked quietly, stroking her hair.

“Made for each other,” she sighed.

If my heart could swell any further, I was afraid it might burst. Instead, it thrummed rapidly in my chest, my pulse racing at her words.

Do you feel it too, then? Have you felt this tether between us? That inescapable pull? All this time? I wanted to ask.

Realistically, though, I knew that Arken was just drunk. High on the endorphins of submission, basking in the afterglow of our perfect chemistry. And so was I. But that didn’t alter how I felt. Not in the slightest. Quite the opposite, really.

There were so many things that I wanted to ask her. So many things that I wanted to say. But I had done my job well, pushing Arken’s pleasure to the absolute edge of exhaustion. Already, her breath had steadied, her chest beginning to rise and fall against mine at a gentle, familiar cadence.

Arken was fast asleep, and did not stir when I leaned in to press a soft kiss against her forehead. Even as I lingered, savoring the warmth of her skin, her eyelids didn’t so much as flutter.

“Táieach kyn chroí, myon-Caindélach,” I whispered.

I love you, Little Conduit.