Chapter 13

Thirteen

His husky words drifted over my tongue, threading down my throat, until it felt like I'd consumed them entirely.

He hadn't hesitated—not this time—and so I didn't either. And maybe it was the emotion of the afternoon and evening—Veras and the Sever and the dark look in Lorik's eyes when he'd spoken of mercy and Shades—but I needed something. I needed an escape. An outlet.

And I knew I would find it in Lorik.

Our kiss grew to be a desperate thing, roving and seeking like a moon wolf scenting prey. His hot breath drifted between my lips. I inhaled his scent like bonfire smoke, making me dizzy, making the walls spin. His kiss made my mouth tingle, like I could feel the pinpricks of his magic trailing along my skin, pleasant little zings that only made me demand more.

My hands went to his wet shoulders. I forgot about his wound, but he didn't even flinch when I accidentally hit the bandage.

"Lorik," I gasped out, feeling need rise in me, growing and growing to new heights that it was almost frightening. There was a buzzing underneath my skin, one that made me so full of energy I thought I might burst. Especially if he didn't touch me the way I wanted.

It had been much too long since I'd slept with a man. Since I'd felt the weight and heat and press of one. Since I'd felt whispered sighs drift across my skin and felt the sweat cooling on my chest in the afterglow.

I'd hidden myself away in the Black Veil in my grief…but it had been ten years and I'd been paralyzed here. Unable to move forward.

I didn't want that anymore. And I had a Kylorr-Allavari male, who was much more than he seemed, pressed into me.

And I wanted him.

I wanted him so desperately I thought I would choke on my need.

Lorik, thank the gods, seemed to feel that same desperation clawing inside him because he stood from the washing tub in one swift motion. He broke our kiss only momentarily, and I stared up at him with a half-lidded gaze, lips swollen and red, as I kneeled in front of him.

Despite the icy water he'd been bathing in, and despite the fact that I'd just stitched up a wound—a wound that he'd only recently recovered from, his cock was as hard as Allavari steel.

"One chance," he told me, the words drenched in warning though they fell from his lips like a purr. "One chance to leave, little witch. Because if I have you tonight, there's no going back."

Maybe if I wasn't panting like a dog in heat, maybe if he hadn't kissed me until I couldn't even recall my own name I might've answered differently. I might've paused, given his words honest and deliberate thought.

But instead, I reached up, and the shocking heat of his hard cock met my palm. I gripped him tightly, finally eliciting a hiss and a whispered curse from him, his hips bucking forward. I traced the length of one thick vein up the shaft, but I didn't make it to the tip.

Before I knew it, Lorik had darted from the washing tub and I was up in his arms before I could blink. The chill of his icy flesh made me gasp, but he swallowed it down with another stolen kiss, one that made me cling to his shoulders—though I was mindful of his bandaged wound this time.

"Patience, little witch," he groaned, squeezing my backside with one large palm as he strode from the washroom. "I intend to savor this."

His words brought about wicked fantasies that streamed into my head on a loop. But most of all, I wanted to touch him and explore every little thing that drove him wild. I wanted to make him come undone. I wanted to see Lorik Ravael ripped apart at the seams. Maybe then I could finally discover the secrets he was hiding. Who he truly was.

When my back met the warm sheets of my bed, I realized Lorik must've finished washing them for me when I'd been…otherwise occupied at Aysia's grave.

That realization alone made me deepen his kiss as his weight came down on top of me, pinning me to the bed. His wings covered us like a blanket, spreading out so that they blocked the light coming in from the front room. Those tiny little membranes in his wings fascinated me, and I wanted to trace every little vein there like I'd traced the one lining his cock.

I saw blood bloom under the fresh bandage, given that he was hovering off me with his strength.

"Lorik," I gasped.

"Leave it," he growled, distracting me as he nearly ripped the front half of my dress down my own arms, trapping them at my sides though it bared my breasts to him. His eyes glowed brighter at the sight until we were lit with a soft cast of blue. "It'll heal."

I was torn between desire and duty…at least until Lorik dropped his head and I felt the heat of his mouth envelope my breast. I heard the whistle of his hitched breath against my skin, almost contented as he licked and laved.

"Oh gods," I breathed, widening my thighs so he could sink further into me, melting against him until I felt boneless. He captured my nipple between his teeth, making me hold my breath, the tip of his fang a dangerous tease. With my nipple tight in his grasp, he stroked the underside with his tongue, and I moaned throatily. The perfect mix of pleasure and pain. "Lorik!"

Even still, I caught the fresh scent of his blood, and I groaned.

"Lorik, your—"

A rough sound left his throat though it was followed by a husky, languid chuckle, one that felt like silk skimming my skin.

"Heal me, then, little witch," he purred. "And I know exactly what I need."

With that he rolled off me, going to his back on the bed. I was relieved when the weight was off his shoulder at the very least.

"Stand up," he ordered.

I swallowed, feeling the cool air drift over my breast where he'd suckled, puckering the sensitive flesh and making me burn. I stood from the bed.

"That's my good little witch," he praised. "Now, take off your dress."

"I should get the needle and—"

"Take off your dress. Now."

The edge in his tone had me wiggling from the material, suddenly desperate to hear what he'd order me to do next. Had my two past lovers ever dared to order me around when it came to sex? No.

A pity,I realized, feeling something unlock in me. Something I wanted to explore.

When I was naked, my dress pooled at my feet and the end of my hair tickling the edge of one nipple, Lorik's gaze trailed up my body slowly. Savoring, I realized.

It was so quiet, I wondered if Lorik could hear my heart throbbing in my chest. With impatience. With need. With nerves. It had been so long, what if I'd forgotten how to be with someone?

"You're an incredibly beautiful woman, Marion," came his words. Soft and gentle.

"You think so?" I asked, a smile pulling at my lips. My belly fluttered. Lorik might've been a liar, like he'd proclaimed, but all I'd heard was soft honesty—even reverence—in his tone.

"Gods, yes," he groaned. "Come here."

"How is this healing you?" I asked again, stepping toward the bed, eyeing his bandage.

"You'll see," he rasped, watching me place a knee on the edge of the firm mattress. "No, come up here. I need a taste of you."

Heat burned my cheeks, but I was much too curious and eager to protest.

"Like this?" I asked, my tone pitched high, when I settled my knees around his face, careful of his shoulder and his wings. And his horns, but that was more for my sake, I knew as I eyed the sharpened tips.

"Perfect," he whispered, and I let out a deep sigh when I felt that word drift between my thighs. Lorik's arms came around my hips, holding me down. "I want you to let go."

When the wet heat of his tongue registered against my pussy, I gasped. I didn't know what he'd meant by those last words until my thighs began to shake and I realized he wanted me to let go. To give in to every sensation and every lick and lap and every tease that inched me closer and closer to the edge of pleasure.

"Lorik," I moaned. The grip on my hips tightened with his name, and I reached back to steady myself on his chest so I didn't fall right over. But the position only opened me up to him more.

His tongue felt like it was everywhere all at once. Hot and slick and delicious and wicked. The muscles in my legs were trembling. The moans tumbling from my lips seemed to fill the air until I could hear nothing else.

Right when I was on the edge of an orgasm, Lorik pulled back.

"No!" I cried out, my eyes flying open.

He grinned between my thighs, those eyes practically as feral as that smile. His lips were shining with my slickness, but I couldn't find it in me to be embarrassed.

"Greedy little witch," he said. His voice was unrecognizable, deep and rough with his desire. The edge of his finger teased at my opening when he moved it from my hip. I bucked against his hand, desperate to be filled by something. Anything.

When he thrust a finger into me, my lips parted and my head lolled around my shoulders. His thumb pressed against my clit, but the thickness of his finger inside me felt even more perfect.

But then…I felt his fangs skim my inner thigh. I gasped and looked down. Only when I met his eyes, realization making mine widen in anticipation, did he bite down.

Healing him,came the wild thought. This was what he'd meant.

The prick of his fangs registered as his venom flooded the small wound. Whatever chemistry we had, whatever reason—whether divine fate or magic or mere biology—that made his bite feel orgasmic, I didn't question it. I only enjoyed it.

Lorik groaned, deep in his throat in between his pulling draws of my blood.

Every suck made my eyes roll. He'd had me on the edge of orgasm already with his tongue and his touch. This? It felt like I could come merely from this.

"Lorik," I groaned, his name edged with panic and pleasure. I was frightened of how good it might feel to come like this, but I thought I'd never be the same if I didn't experience it.

He dislodged his fangs briefly, and I nearly cried with frustration.

"Look at me," he purred, wedging another finger deep, joining the first and making me shiver. "Look over your shoulder and see what you do to me, Marion. See how hard you make my cock. See how much I fucking ache for you."

Right when I did what he ordered, I felt him bite down again.

My lips parted when I saw his cock. Thick and hard and bobbing with need. A pool of pre-come had settled into the rigid lines of muscles lining his abdomen. The veins were even more prominent, and I wanted to lick every last one.

Gods, the sight of him like that was sexy. So incredibly arousing. I wanted to lap at his shimmering, silvery pre-come off his belly and make him moan.

"Mmmm," he hummed against me, no doubt feeling the gush of slickness between my thighs at the sight.

"I love that," I breathed, greedy for him. Reaching back, I took his cock in my hand, so hot it felt like it could burn me if I wasn't careful. So hot that for a moment I feared his fever might've returned if not for the coolness of his skin beneath me. "I love that I make you like this."

He groaned when I stroked him, his deep draws of my blood even more pronounced, and my thighs tightened around his face. My body was beginning to shake, the sublime pleasure from his feeding nearly overwhelming.

Let go,I remembered.

I let out a choking gasp, my hand tightening around his thick, perfect cock as I began to orgasm.

Lorik felt the change, felt me clamping down on his fingers like a vise as I cried out and bucked. His other arm held me steadily in place, his other hand working between my thighs.

And he never stopped his feeding.

"Oh gods," I choked, the air in my lungs being tugged from me as if it could be tethered to a rope and pulled. My belly contracted, my moans filled the air as the best orgasm of my entire damn life unleashed in me. The outlet I'd needed. The relief.

I'd known Lorik would give it to me, hadn't I?

When it was over, Lorik was continuing to feed. I kept a grip on his cock, feeling him buck his hips into my grip like he was imagining fucking me, and when I met his eyes, they were burning into mine.

Even in the aftermath of the orgasm, I could feel him already beginning to stoke the remaining embers.

He wasn't done with me, I realized.

I intend to savor this,he'd told me.

The night was far from over.