Page 118 of Sweetling
His magic still sparked inside him, was still connected in its partially formed bonds with the estate, but he could feel the weave of it changing. Molly had added her own weft to the pattern, transforming the very weave and texture of his magic. With their growing bond, he’d felt how his magic was shifting, but with her blood flowing in his veins, it was as if he’d ripped apart the last vestiges of his former life and world. They were threaded together now in the very fabric of the land and its inherent magic.
One day very soon, he would be strong enough to leave the estate and retrieve Ravenna.
And the reason for it slipped her arms around him from behind, splaying her hands along his middle. Molly’s breath tickled at his shoulder as her fingers glided up and down the ridges of his abdomen, tracing arcane patterns along his skin.
“Look at how pretty you’re getting,” she said, peeking out from behind him. He caught only her eyes and the corner of that impish mouth reflected in the mirror.
“I’ve always been handsome,” he told her, “I’m merely becoming more so.”
Her smile pressed into his back. “I agree.” In the mirror, he watched as those lithe hands trailed down his body, skating over the flat plane above his growing cock. “Whatever did I do to deserve such a handsome husband?” she crooned as she took him in her soft grip.
“Vixen,” he said, attention riveted on the dual sensations of having her plush body pressed to his back yet her hands deftly fisting his eager cock. “We both know it’s I who am the lucky one.”
She made that delicious sighing hum, breath puffing along his spine as her hands worked in tandem up and down his shaft. He was no match for her attentions, especially not when he knew her to be especially amorous in the morning. She had him engorged and dripping in little time, her movements perfect and precise.
He admired the efficiency and couldn’t help his amusement at how successfully she’d learned to work his body.
A hunger for food wasn’t the only appetite he’d grown in the intervening days.
Oh, no. Much as he desired food, he craved his mate far more. She satiated him in a way nothing ever had, filling his now-beating heart with a need so dire, he never wanted to be more than a few paces from her. If he’d thought himself besotted or devoted before, it was nothing to the way he obsessed over her every feeling, thought, and whim.
He delighted in watching her play with him, but soon enough, it was time to gorge.
Taking her hands in his, he turned in the circle of her arms, grinning down to see the high color in her comely cheeks. Drawing her arms up around his shoulders, he stepped into her body, relishing the soft scrape of her nipples along his skin. They tracked twin linesup his body as he knelt and caught her behind the knees.
She jumped into his arms, the both of them now more than familiar with the move. Allarion found he was happiest with his mate in his arms, carrying her to bed.
He bore her down to the already tangled blankets, giving her some of his weight as their mouths joined in that perfect dance. It was just as thrilling as when they danced in the evenings in the solar, the harpsichord playing a merry jig. Their lips and tongues moved in concert, nipping and sucking until Allarion melted into her—just as he wanted to be.
When he rolled to his side and his hand began to slide down her soft body, Molly opened her legs for him. She bit his lower lip as his fingers found her warm, wet cunt, already throbbing and ready for him.
“Did you wake like this?” he asked her.
“Mmhmm,” she hummed, hips rolling under his fingers. “Dreamt of you.”
Allarion rumbled against her mouth, pleased to hear it. He dreamt of her in his long sleeps, too, always wanting to be near her.
Much as he’d poured into this estate, this house, it was hisazai,his Molly who was his home now. It was with her he wanted to be. She was his home, his sustenance, his very heart.
His lips trailing down her neck, Molly turned her head, offering better access to her throat. Allarion laved the flat of his tongue over the scabbed punctures but moved on. The skin was too sore and red and needed time to heal.
She made a noise of confusion, then a sharp inhale as he dipped down to circle his tongue around her left breast. Her gaze seared him with its heat as he teased the tip of his fang over her peaked nipple.
Throat bobbing, Molly bit her lip before nodding.
“My sweet mate,” he praised.
He filled his mouth with her breast as his magic gathered to dote on the other. His tongue flicked and worried the nipple in the opposite rhythm of his magic, and soon she was wriggling on the bed beneath him, hips snapping to find more pressure from his fingers.
The warmth of his magic pooled around his fingers, taking over as he moved to fill her with first two and then three fingers. He curled them slightly, seeking and finding that textured patch of skin on the upper wall.
Molly’s back bowed, her legs falling open as she clenched around him. Her fingers dug into his hair, and Allarion needed no further prompting—he sank his fangs into the tender flesh of her breast, tongue still lashing her nipple.
A small stream of blood began to flow, and he sucked at it and the nipple, fierce pulls that made her groan and whimper. Her cunt seized around him again, a second orgasm cascading through her.
He’d never grow tired of her body. His Molly was a delight in every way—not least of which, that she could orgasm multiple times in quick succession. Goddesses, he was the luckiest fae alive, and it was his duty and pleasure to wring as many as possible from her before taking his own.
As he soothed his tongue over the punctures, his magic pooling over them to ensure the bleeding stopped, he replaced his fingers with his cock. He hissed through his bloodied fangs as he eased inside, aftershocks of her orgasm rippling through her.
