Page 124 of Warrior's Reign
He slowly turned his head, eyes predator bright. She felt it then, the tingle along his arm.
Vykhan smiled.
Her gaze caught on the brilliant, slithering tatts winding around taut biceps.
Reign would have jerked back if it weren’t for the wall at her back. “Oh, fuck.”
“Too late,” he said.
Vykhan surged again, grinding inside. She shattered, orgasming in a violent rush even as the tatts split through whatever cellular replication or magtech they were constructed by, and shot from him onto her.
She screamed. “Fuck, fuck, fuck. This is creepy.”
He laughed. And laughed. Incensed, Reign wrapped her hands around his neck and squeezed. He lowered his mouth and seized her lips in another barbaric kiss as their tongues dueled. His fingers hadn’t stopped their relentless teasing of her clit and a second orgasm built and built then spilled over. She moaned deep into his mouth as his tongue speared her in time to his cock; he was still thick and full inside her, impaling her to the core.
She didn’t want this, and she did. She loved him, and hated him. He was her best friend and her enemy. Her protector and her defiler.
“Vykhan,” she said, his name a curse word.
His kiss gentled, his furious strokes easing, and he gasped, entire body shuddering as his hot seed flooded a womb that would need months of medical therapy to conceive.
“Mine,” he said, and slid out of her.
As her legs collapsed, he hefted her into his arms and walked towards the bed, laying her down as gently as a babe.
She curled onto her side in a fetal position, and he curled around her, body hot and strong and warm. A cage and a comfort.
He kissed the top of her head, and when he spoke, his voice was ragged. “I will not give you up.”
* * *
She felt him in her mind.
For a time she thought she might go mad, sorting through his feelings and hers, his thoughts and her own. Her head split from the pain. Dimly, she heard a beautiful tenor raised in a soothing chant. Eredan. She clung to the music of his voice. Felt hands onher body but knew she wasn’t in that time, that place, and those hands were only phantoms. A lifetime of memories until bit by bit she unraveled where she began and Eredan/Vykhan ended.
Bit by bit until she was alone in her head again. Not quite alone. He rested there, a pulsing warmth she knew would never go away.
Reign opened her eyes and looked down at her arms covered in the unique whirls and glyphs that made up Vykhan. Not just Vykhan. After replication they would have changed, imprinting on her skin in a slightly different but symmetrical pattern.
Reign shuddered. “These things are alive,” she said, voice hoarse.
“I’m sorry,” he said. Her back rested against his chest, his arms a loose cradle. “There’s no way of knowing how the marks will take a human. Each bonding is unique. It’s not quite the same when it is a Yadeshi pairing.”
“I feel like they’re going to eat me.”
His laugh was low, near silent. “I am the only thing that will be eating you,yada’ami.”
Reign shivered and drifted back into an exhausted doze. Sometime later, she realized his warmth was gone and sat up. The room was still dark, but whatever bond was imbued through the sharing of the marks had her piercing the darkness to find him.
He stood facing her, draped in another silky, half open shirt and painted on black pants. His hair spilled around his shoulders, unfettered.
“Eredan?”
He approached and looked down. No, it wasn’t Eredan, it was Vykhan out to play. Dark Vykhan.
She met his gaze, brushing along the barest edge of his emotions before withdrawing. “Do you regret it already? The lapse in your Silence?”
Soft laughter. “Lapse? Reign, my Silence has shattered into so many pieces I will never piece it together again.”
