Page 100 of Crown of Storm and Silence
The shift tears away under his eager hands, and then we're skin to skin, the bond between us flaring so bright it turns the chamber white for a moment. Through the connection, I feel everything he feels—the desperate relief at having me back, the hunger that's been building for months, the careful reverence with which he touches my changing body.
His palms are calloused and hot, dragging down my ribs and across the soft swell of my belly. Each graze leaves fire behind. He pauses only to bite back a groan, his cock already hard against my stomach, pulsing with restrained violence.
His mouth finds the pulse point at my throat, and I cry out as pleasure crashes through me. Not just from his touch, but from the way our magic tangles together—light and shadow creating something entirely new between us.
His teeth scrape, sharp enough to sting, and then his tongue laves over the mark as if sealing it. My head falls back, exposing more of my neck to him, offering him the vulnerable places that should terrify me but instead make me ache for more. My pussy throbs, slickness slipping down my thighs.
"I need you," he whispers against my skin, his voice breaking with desperate honesty. "I need you so much it's killing me."
"Then take me," I breathe, my hands tangling in his hair as he trails kisses down my throat. "Take everything. I'm yours."
I tug his hair hard enough to make him growl, my nails scraping his scalp. He answers with a bruising suck at the hollow of my throat, leaving a mark that will never fade. My legs part instinctively, silently begging for his hand, his mouth, his cock—anything to fill the ache he’s ignited.
He lifts me with careful strength, carrying me to the bed. The silk sheets feel cool against my heated skin as he lays me down, his dark eyes drinking in every inch of my form.
The contrast makes me shiver—the chill of silk against fevered flesh, the weight of his stare pinning me down more firmly than any rope. His cock strains against the confines of his pants, the outline thick and hungry, promising to split me open. My thighs fall wider, an unspoken invitation he drinks in like a starving man.
"Perfect," he murmurs, his hands mapping the swell of my belly where our child grows. "So fucking perfect."
His voice breaks over the words, rough with awe and filth at once, and when his lips brush the curve of my stomach, my breath stutters. The sight of this dangerous man kneeling at my womb—the man whose darkness everyone fears—makes arousal flood me so hard I ache to be filled.
When his palm settles over my womb, the baby responds immediately—a strong kick that makes us both gasp. Throughthe bond, I feel his wonder, his awe at the life we've created together.
"It knows you," I whisper, covering his hand with mine. "Even in the womb, it recognizes its father."
His eyes fill with tears he tries to hide. "Our miracle," he breathes. "Light and shadow made manifest."
His thumb strokes the underside of my breast, the wet heat gathering between my thighs, slicking down onto the sheets. There’s reverence in his touch, yes—but beneath it coils possession, the need to mark me, to fuck me until I can never forget who owns every inch of me.
I pull him down for another kiss, desperate to feel his weight above me, to reclaim the intimacy we lost when I fled. His body covers mine carefully, and I can feel him holding back, fighting against the need to claim me completely.
The bed dips with his weight, and his scent overwhelms me—smoke, musk, and the faint trace of poison still in his blood. My tongue slides against his, tasting both sin and salvation, and I moan into his mouth, needy, reckless. My hips grind against his, searching for friction, shameless in my desperation.
"Don't be gentle," I tell him, nipping at his lower lip. "I'm not going to break."
"You don't understand," he gasps, his control fracturing. "The poison—it makes me hunger for things that should horrify me. What if I hurt you?"
"You won't," I say with absolute certainty. "Because I won't let you. Because the bond will balance us."
To prove my point, I let golden light flow through our connection, wrapping around the silver poison in his veins. Instead of fighting each other, the opposing forces find harmony—my light containing his darkness, his shadows deepening my radiance.
It feels like being branded from the inside out, my light searing into his veins while his shadows claw deliciously into mine. My body arches, breasts pressed to his chest, nipples scraping his skin like desperate pleas for more. The bond burns hotter than lust, but it feeds it too, twisting every flicker of magic into raw, aching need.
"See?" I whisper against his lips. "We balance each other. We always have."
His restraint finally snaps. His mouth crashes down on mine with desperate hunger, and I meet him kiss for kiss, pouring months of separation and longing into the connection. His hands roam my body with possessive reverence, relearning every curve, every sensitive spot that makes me arch against him.
His fingers trail down, teasing my hip before slipping lower. The first brush of his knuckle against my soaked folds makes me sob into his mouth, clutching at his shoulders. He doesn’t tease for long—two fingers push inside me, stretching, curling, finding the spot that makes my vision go white. My body clenches greedily around him, sucking him deeper, wetter.
When his fingers find the heat between my thighs, I cry out his name like a prayer. The bond amplifies every sensation, until I can feel not just my own pleasure but his—the desperate satisfaction at making me fall apart beneath his touch.
"So wet for me," he growls against my throat, his fingers working skillfully. "Always so responsive."
His palm grinds against my clit as his fingers thrust harder, the obscene sound of my slick echoing in the chamber. My hips buck against his hand, chasing the pressure, shameless in my need. He smirks against my skin, the sound feral, as if he’s savoring my ruin.
I can't form words, can only arch against his hand as he builds me higher and higher. Through the bond, I feel his hungergrowing, his desperate need to join with me completely. But there's something else—the poison responding to our passion, trying to corrupt the pleasure flowing between us.
"Now," I gasp, pulling him up for another kiss. "I need you inside me now."
