Page 102 of The Dark Lord's Guide to Dating

He pulled out almost all the way, grabbed my hips, and then pushed into me again. My eyes fluttered closed at the stretch, and he did it again. I ran my hands down his arms, feeling thescars warm at my touch, wanting to pull him closer. He kissed me and began to move, setting a gentle rhythm that had me sighing with pleasure.

But gentle wasn’t what either of us truly wanted. Not after weeks of tension, of wanting, of fighting this pull between us.

Without warning, I planted my hands on his chest and pushed him back. He looked startled but allowed it, eyebrows quirking. I hopped off the table and steered him so it was his thighs against the obsidian slab. Seeing Kazimir half-dazed, shirtless, and breathing rough, I felt a heady sense of control.

I let my robe slide off my arms. “My turn,” I said, sliding his trousers the rest of the way down. He stepped free of them, letting me guide him onto the table. That smug grin warred with genuine need as he sprawled on the polished stone. Straddling him, I sank down on his cock again, biting back a moan at how deep he went. His hands found my hips, but I grabbed his wrists and pinned them beside his head.

The way his pupils nearly swallowed his irises told me he liked my dominance more than he’d ever admit. The dreaded Dark Lord was at my mercy.

“Is this how you pictured me?” I rasped, rocking my hips in a slow grind that made us both gasp.

“I pictured you in every way imaginable,” he finally managed, “but what I want is you. Any way I can have you.”

I loosened my grip, letting him bury his hands in my hair, then on my waist, guiding my movements. Each thrust created a spike of magic, setting off a dizzying light show across his body. Books and marker figurines lifted from the floor, swirling in the air as the chamber’s temperature soared and plummeted erratically.

The runes carved into his skin blazed brighter with each thrust, burning with crimson and violet fire. The light cast strange shadows across the room, making the war table’s maplook alive. My power rose to meet his, golden light emanating from my skin in pulses that matched our rhythm.

Our combined magic amplified until warmth spread through my veins like liquid gold. The glow was almost blinding. I could feel his control slipping, magic leaking from the carefully constructed channels he’d built over years of discipline.

He held my hips in an iron grip. “Arabella,” he gasped, trying to slow our pace. “I can’t—the magic?—”

“Don’t you dare stop,” I growled, grinding down harder, taking him deeper.

The magic built between us, crackling in the air. “I can’t control it,” he warned.

Understanding dawned, followed by something wild and reckless. Not fear, but fierce joy. “Then don’t.”

I leaned down to capture his mouth in a kiss that consumed us both. He surrendered to it, to me, to the magic surging between us. The resonance built, and our magics merged, creating a swirling vortex of power that spiraled outward. Books flew from shelves. Weapons rattled in their racks. The massive stone table beneath us groaned ominously.

I was beyond caring. There was only the sensation of Kazimir moving inside me, his magic entwined with my own, pleasure so intense it bordered on pain. I rode him harder, faster, chasing the release that hovered just beyond reach.

He reached between us to circle a thumb against my clit. The spike of sensation brought me so close to the edge again I couldn’t hold back an impassioned cry.

“There,” he growled, his voice barely human. “Come for me.”

The combination of his words, his touch, and the magic surging between us pushed me over the edge. Everything in me tightened, and I let go.

This release crashed far harder than the first, making my inner walls quake around his cock as I shouted his name. Theradiant surge of my magic collided with his, and for an instant, I swore I saw raw arcs of power crackle around our joined bodies.

Kazimir’s breath caught on a ragged groan. “Fuck… Arabella—” I felt the pulse inside me as he came.

Our coiled magic exploded in a shockwave of raw power. The stone table snapped straight down the middle, sending us tumbling to the floor in a tangle of limbs. Around us, chaos reigned. Books torn from their bindings, weapons embedded in walls, windows shattered outward in a spray of glass. The stone walls themselves groaned.

A distant rumble suggested something important had collapsed, and Kazimir threw himself over me protectively as mortar and dust rained from the ceiling.

As awareness slowly returned, I became conscious of several things at once: the pleasant throbbing between my thighs, the weight of Kazimir’s body covering mine, the dust in the air, and the distant shouts of guards responding to the disturbance.

And above it all, a high, clear note ringing out. A sound I recognized instinctively, though I’d never heard it before. The Heirloom of Dominion, responding to our union from its chamber several floors above.

Kazimir raised himself on his elbows to look down at me, his expression a mixture of satisfaction, wonder, and alarm as he took in the devastation. His hair was a disheveled mess, his skin still faintly glowing, his eyes bright with lingering pleasure.

I’d never seen anything more beautiful.

I couldn’t help it. I started to laugh, a full, throaty sound that bubbled up from somewhere deep inside me.

“Did we...” I began, my voice deliciously hoarse.

“Yes,” he confirmed, a note of smug satisfaction in his tone. “I believe we just destroyed half the east wing.”

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