Page 228 of Eldritch
“The priestess has quite a collection of elixirs.”
“You broke into her temple?”
“The door was unlocked. Unguarded. I considered it an invitation to take what I wanted.” With a nudge of his arm, he urged me onto his lap, and the dress raised to just above my thighs as I straddled his legs. He lifted his hips high enough to fish out small vial of pink fluid from his pocket, holding it up for me.
“What is that?”
“An aphrodisiac,” he said and leaned forward to kiss my neck.
I nabbed the vial from his hands and set it down on the table beside us. “I don’t need an aphrodisiac with you.”
“Is that so?”
“Mm-hmmm.” I wrapped my arms around his neck, as he kissed a line along the edge of my throat. “Very easily aroused.”
“Not nearly as aroused as I’ll be when this dress comes off,” he said against my neck, hooking his fingers into the tops of the slits at my thighs. He lifted it up around the bare curve of my bottom, palming my cheeks as he tipped his chin up to seize my lips. It was in that kiss that his demeanor switched.
Hands that had, only moments before, gripped me with unfaltering intent trembled over me, not with want, nor lust. He clutched me with the splitting tension of a dam just before it breaks. His gaze lowered, severing the kiss. His brows knitted together, and once again, that rare flicker of vulnerability flashed over him. The only time he seemed to let his guard down. “I need …”
I pressed the pad of my thumb to his lips and kissed the top of his head. “I know,” I whispered. “You don’t have to ask me for it.”
The sharp intensity in his gaze dulled to something haunted and hollow, brimming with unspoken nightmares. Gentle hands slid to the small of my back, as he seemed to search my eyes for any sign of hesitation. Perhaps a faltering blink, or a flickerof repulsion. Instead, I kept my gaze steady, assuring him I was okay, despite my loathing to hurt him.
His palm cupped my cheek, and through that tormented stare, he looked at me as if I was something sacred, a secret he longed to keep for himself.
I’d watched him lash his blade through men and monsters, with unflinching brutality, but the way he held me with such reverence, like a fragile relic in his scarred hands, had my heart clenching for him.
“I had dreams of you, Moon Witch. When those things swarmed me and the church crumbled.” He dragged my lips to his and greedily swallowed every exhaled breath in a kiss that was graceless and raw, devouring and clutching me as if I’d vanish from his arms. “Through the pain, you came to me.” He kissed my jaw. “An elixir in my blood.” Lips trailed down the column of my neck, and he kissed the base of my throat. “A calming breath to this rage that seethes inside of me. You quiet the noise in my head. The ringing and screaming.” He ran his palm over my shoulder and kissed the curve of my bone. “I can’t find peace without your touch.”
I threaded my fingers through his hair and wrapped my arms around his broad and sturdy shoulders. “Let me give you what you need.” With a gentle tug, I tipped his head back and kissed his throat, smiling when a masculine sound of satisfaction vibrated against my lips.
Higher, the dress rose, his palms trailing after it, touching every curve and dip of my body. Until he reached my arms, forcing them up as he peeled the dress over my head and tossed it aside. Light from the hearth’s flame flickered over his eyes, illuminating the glimmer of reverence in them as he stared back at me. He gathered my hands behind my back and drew one of my breasts into his mouth, groaning as he sucked on my nipple.
The tug of his lips had me tipping my head back, and I moaned, circling my hips against the bulge in his leathers.
He leaned back and lifted his tunic over his head, exposing the chiseled stone of his muscles. His hands swiped mine up and pressed them to his chest, where, beneath all that iron and ruin, his fragile heart beat against my palm.
The deep ridge of the scars I’d left there slipped beneath my fingertip and while I understood their meaning for him, they still troubled me. I bowed forward to kiss them, feeling him tense then shudder around me.
He raised his hips again and unfastened his trousers, and I stood just enough for him to push them down his thighs, his manhood springing free. Stiff and engorged, it stood high from his thighs, those wicked bars glinting in the light.
As I gently ran my metallic fingers over his delicate skin, he snatched up my wrists, his eyes pleading as he stared back at me.
“What is it? What’s wrong?” I asked.
“There’s an urge inside of me.” He dragged my clawed nails across his chest, and a fevered lust pulled at his gaze, his head tipped back in surrender, as if that single brush of my nails had yanked the strength right out of him. “I can’t think. I just want. And your touch…it does things to me. Begs me to take,” he said through clenched teeth, muscles hardening under my tracing fingertips. “I’ll take too much.”
“You can’t take too much. Not when I’m giving myself freely. All of me. For you, Zevander.” I leaned forward and kissed him as I lifted my hips. “Take from me. Take what you need,” I said against his lips, and I guided his hand toward his engorged cock, lining it where I needed him. “I am yours.”
“Every breath. Every heartbeat. Every prayer you whisper to the gods. You belong to me,A’miszhla.” Seizing my lips, he curled one firm hand around my waist and pressed down on myhips, urging me over the curved tip of his flesh. Small thrusts breached my tight entrance.
Lower lip caught between my teeth, I breathed through my nose as the first rung slipped inside me. A deep, aching vibration, like a ripple in a pond, fluttered through my core, and stomach clenched, I leaned back, digging my nails into his thighs.
Zevander released a pleasured groan. “Gods alive, I need more,” he rasped. “Can you take another?”
At my nod, he gave another thrust, inching himself deeper. The second rung slid up into me, and my whole body shuddered as the vibrations intensified, the heat of his flame crawling up my stomach.
Still biting my lip, I let out a small whimper, as he held my hips, guiding me up and down, no more than those two rungs. My arousal slickened his skin, those bulbous prongs scraping over my sensitive flesh each time he withdrew and plunged again.
