Page 161 of The Trials of Ophelia

“Not slow,” I breathed, watching his fingers skim the trim.

With a devilish smirk, Tolek dragged two fingers over my center, circling over the silk. “Are you sure?” He added pressure, and my legs fell further open around his hips.

“Please,” I begged.

At the tremble in my voice, he pushed that layer of silk aside. Two fingers plunged into my center, dragging a moan from my lips.

“Angels, I’m addicted to that sound,” he breathed and curled his fingers, making me cry louder. His other hand cupped my breast as he bent down to kiss me. Every sensitive nerve in my body ignited under those skilled hands and tongue. His rough fingers stroking the silk against my nipple were a torturous tease.

I needed more. “I thought you wanted the walls to shake,” I breathed.

Tolek looked down at me, that wicked smirk back and his eyes drunk with lust. “If you insist.”

Before I realized what was happening, he flipped me onto my hands and knees and dragged me to the edge of the bed, tearing off my undergarments. His chest pressed against my back, skin warm against mine, as he trailed kisses down my spine. His shorts hit the floor as his fingers continued to slowly coax me toward oblivion.

Then, Tol gripped my hips, lining himself up with my entrance, and pounded into me. From this position, it was so deliciously filling I cried out—his name maybe, or just a cry, I couldn’t even be sure as the fire flickering in the room melded with the one between us and everything turned burning.

He alternated between slow, teasing strokes and faster pounding, his hands kneading my backside until I was held right over that edge and begging for release.

“You feel so good like this,” Tolek murmured. “On your hands and knees for me, Revered.”

“What else?” I asked.

“Hmm?” He hummed, as he slowly pulled back out to the tip and sank forward again.

I glanced over my shoulder, pushing back against him. “What else do you like, Tolek?”

His grip on my hips tightened, eyes darkening. Then, his arm wrapped around my front, pulling my back flush against his chest, and I gasped at the new angle.

Slowly, one hand drifted down my body, stopping on my scars. “I love these,” he said. “For so many reasons. But it makes me want to mark you as mine, too.”

“I am yours,” I breathed as he hit a deeper spot inside of me and his fingers lowered to my clit. “Angels.”

With his other hand, Tolek turned my face toward him. His eyes were burning. “Enough of those fucking Angels, love.” He kissed me roughly, his tongue timed to the movement of his fingers against my center, his entire body working together to get me where he wanted. My head fell back against his shoulder, and Tolek moved his lips to my neck. When he reached my shoulder, he sunk his teeth in gently. Marking me as his.

Spirits, the idea lit up like Angellight within me.

I was barreling toward climax with his hands all over me and him filling me. Right as I thought I would explode, he turned me so my back was against the bed again.

I whined in protest, but Tol brushed my hair from my face. “I want to see you when you come, Ophelia.” The sound of his voice nearly undid me. He pushed into me again, and this time he did not take anything slow, driving us both to that edge in a hurry.

And as the spiral of heat built within me, I thought of every promise he’d made to me. Of the safety and the dreams and the home. The home he had become, the one he had always been.

The echo of every vow swam through my mind in a tangle of this lustful oblivion, stars exploding around us and through us. I thought of us planting roots in the ground to tether us together and of wishes upon stars that only we would fulfill together.

I thought of how deeply I loved him and how my world would never be right without him.

My safety, my home. My tether to all that was good. Mine, infinitely.

“Tolek,” I cried as I came, and he followed, my name on his lips a sound so heady and lustful and adoring it had me searching for his kiss again.

When we collapsed together on the bed after cleaning ourselves up, sweaty and equally spent, our legs tangled together and my head found the spot above his heart. Tol ran a hand absently through my hair, toying with the ends as we both watched the fire and talked about everything except the looming battles.

This is what it is to be happy, I realized as his laugh rumbled against my ear. Truly happy, despite the circumstances of the world around me or the darkness blooming in my soul. To have someone who shone through it all.

I’d always had it as one or the other. The easy bliss or the crushing pain. This was an all-consuming euphoria in the face of the looming unknown, and I would hold onto that until the Angels forced it from my hands.

“Get some rest,” he finally said, kissing my forehead.

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