Page 24 of Taken to Heimo
He makes gurgled sounds that should be embarrassing, but they only pull more of my soul through that tether, binding me to him. Xanaxana. This is it.Tri-God help me. Tri-God save me from this.
Only, I don’t want to be saved. Lost in the garden now, I have no desire to be found.
“Svera,” he chokes. “Svera, are you alright?”
I blink my eyes open, but the colors all shift and blur together. My fingers are tangled in his hair, my arms slack around his neck.
I shake my head and he hisses, “Xok. I’m sorry. I didn’t…I…”
But there’s nothing to be said.
“I’m your Xiveri Mate.” I sniff. The wildfire in my chest has dimmed to a small bonfire. I still hurt. Still ache. Still want. But I can think. I know my name.
I know my shame.
“Where are…where are my beads?” I say.
Krisxox is still inside of me and I’m talking about my beads. “Verax.” He looks confused. He should be.
“Can you please…” I push on his shoulders tentatively, scared to touch him. Scared to look at him. If I do, I’ll start this all over again. Even now, I can feel his xora like a hot ember inside of me. I want more. More. I never want to stop!
Oh stars. What is happening to me?
I try to wriggle out from under him, but he holds my shoulder gently. “Wait. I don’t want to hurt you,” he mumbles under his breath.
“Oh…that is…kind.”
Krisxox grunts out what sounds like my name, but I don’t react to it. I just keep my gaze trained on the space where our bodies meet and watch Krisxox sit up and reach between us.
Slowly…so, so slowly…he works his length out of me. We both hiss as his engorged head finally slips free of my core. He’s still erect and my throat bobs at the sight of it. “Did you…”
“Hexa,” he growls, smearing blue across the inside of my left thigh. It trembles under his touch, all the way up to my lips, which gasp. “Harder than I ever have before.”
“You’re still…stiff.”
“Hexa. Because I am ready for you again. A thousand times more.” Even as he says what he does, he still reaches for my knees and slowly…so, so slowly…pushes them back together. I expect pain, but he moves so gently that all I feel is a dull ache through the outsides of my legs and rear, up my back, in my arms, my hands…everything aches.
I start to roll out from beneath him and reach for my shift, but when I pull it over my lap, I remember that it’s torn. I palm the empty space around my neck as my panic rises.
“What’s wrong? Talk to me. What hurts?”
Krisxox shifts towards me and covers the hand on my chest with his own. Right between my breasts. Right over my heart. I meet his gaze and say nothing. There is nothing to say.
“My nagoom-cross?”
He hesitates, trying to read my expression.
I can’t stand it. His gaze fills me with fire. I can feel nothing but liquid between my legs. His blue seed, mixed with my own syrupy orgasm, plus a little bit of pink.I’m not a virgin anymore.
And I’m not married.
“Krisxox.” My voice is three notches higher. I start to sweat.
“It’s here.” He reaches to the edge of the pallet. There is a small pull-out table there with my nagoom-cross next to a small packet of water. I reach for both simultaneously, rip open and drain the packet, loop the cross over my neck and try to get out of bed. It’s…difficult.
Not only because my legs aren’t cooperating with me, but because I want to stay. I want the bubble to come and erase the little voice again. Only there is no little voice and maybe there never was a bubble.
Maybe there is only me.
