Page 114 of The Madness Within

Her veil slipped off in a shimmer of silver magic.

I stalked toward her. My shirt hung open, the flaming orange silk brushing against my ribs, still damp with the sweat of ceremony and power.

Her eyes never left mine, not once. Not when my hand slid around her waist. Not when my other tangled in the back of her hair. Not when I whispered against her lips, “You’re mine now, Ember Vale. In every world. Every realm. Every lifetime.”

She shivered. Whispered, “Show me.”

I didn’t rush. I tore eternity into seconds and stretched every one. I wanted her to feel this for days. I unfastened the back of her dress, slowly, reverently, like peeling back the seal of something sacred and dangerous.

Her bare skin revealed itself inch by inch. Pale. Warm. Trembling.

“Do you feel that?” I asked, dragging my fangs over her throat without biting. “The whole house is listening. Every shadow. Every ward. Every spell. It knows I’m about to fuck my wife into the foundation.”

Her lips parted in a gasp. “Then stop talking and do it.”

I growled and lifted her, pressing her back against the far wall. The portraits above us tilted from the force.

My mouth found hers, ravenous, claiming, worshipping. Her legs wrapped around me and I tore the rest of her dress at the seams, letting the black silk fall like ash to the floor.

Her thighs bared. Her breasts pressed to my chest. Her body preparing. Willing. Mine.

“You don’t even know what you do to me,” I rasped, my voice shaking with control I no longer had. “I’d burn kingdoms for you. I’d slaughter gods.”

“Then take me like you would,” she whispered. “Like I’m your war.”

That was it. The last thread of control snapped.

I slammed into her with a force that cracked the plaster behind her. Our bodies met in brutal, beautiful rhythm, flesh and magic and breath all tangled together.

Her moans weren’t soft, they were wild, guttural, matching my every thrust with desperate, hungry rolls of her hips. She clung to me like she was being consumed, and gods, maybe she was.

I dipped my head and wrapped my mouth around her breast, sucking hard enough to leave bruises. Her back arched, a gasp tearing from her lips as I bit down, just enough to make her cry out again.

I moved to the other, dragging my tongue across her flushed skin, worshiping it with teeth and tongue until she writhed beneath me, begging for more.

My shadows poured across the floor and up the walls, forming jagged antlers that split the ceiling. Every time she whispered my name, they pulsed with power.

I slammed deeper, her legs tight around me, and her cries became spells of their own, each one sealing her to me in sound, sex, and fire.

The ground pulsed beneath us.

She screamed my name like it was holy. I bit down, not hard enough to mark, just enough to make her gasp and bleed magic.

Her nails scraped down my back, drawing blood. I licked the pain from her fingers.

The entire mansion shuddered as our climax hit. Windows fogged. Mirrors shattered. Every candle blew out at once. Only our magic lit the room, hers a silvery veil of light, mine a burning, crimson storm that flared from the floor up.

I took her to the bed after that, laid her out across the silks like an offering, divine, powerful, utterly mine.

I kissed my way down, worshiping her most sacred place with reverent hunger. My tongue slid over her pussy, tasting magic and heat, until she was trembling beneath my mouth, crying out my name like a spell only she knew how to cast.

She pulled me up with greedy hands and flipped me onto my back, her eyes glowing like embers stoked by chaos. And thenshe took me into her mouth, slow, torturous strokes that drew sounds from my throat I didn’t know I could make.

Each movement of her tongue was a promise and a punishment, and I gripped the sheets to keep from unraveling completely.

When I couldn’t take any more, I gathered her in my arms and plunged into her again, this time slower, deeper, savoring the way her body wrapped around mine like fate itself.

We moved together in perfect, primal rhythm, losing ourselves over and over until the world outside ceased to matter.

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