Page 86 of Black Wing and Shadows
After a moment, he asked, “Do you know how to ward your room?”
I shook my head. “Not yet. It’s now on my priority list.”
His jaw tightened, that protective fury flaring. “That’s not good enough, Auri. Not after tonight.”
I smirked. “You offering to teach me?”
“I’m not offering,” he said, “I’m fucking doing it. Now.”
Before I could argue, his hand found mine—warm, solid—and in the next heartbeat, all the air rushed out of my lungs as he roved us straight into my chamber. The world blurred and then solidified around us.
He didn’t let go until he checked every corner, every shadow, every window with a warrior’s caution. “Close the windows.”
I moved, curiosity punching through my exhaustion. “So… what’s the difference between a basic ward and yours?”
He shot me a sharp look over his shoulder. “Mine actually keeps some bastard out.”
Concentration flickered across his face. I couldn’t see a damn thing, but magic prickled in the air. “You’ll learn this. Over the year, your magicwill keep getting stronger. No one gets in unless you say so. Other than me—that’s it.”
“Well, that’s fucking convenient.”
He grinned. “You can pull anyone in, if you want, but you have to do it each time.”
He stood by the door, staring at me, calm but dead serious, waiting for my next move.
Slowly, he crossed the space between us, likely teasing me. When he reached me, he didn’t touch—not yet. Standing inches away from me, I felt the heat radiating off him, the steady press of his presence pushing out any negative thoughts.
“You scared the hell out of me,” he murmured.
I tilted my chin up. “Not the first time you’ve said that.”
“Not the first time you’ve made it true.” His gaze dipped briefly to my mouth before finding my eyes again. “You could’ve died, Auri. And I—” He cut himself off, shaking his head like the words were too dangerous to finish.
The silence between us said it all. His hand lifted slowly, fingers brushing just under my jaw, tracing the faint line of my pulse. My breath hitched, but I didn’t move.
“You’re safe now and I’m not leaving you tonight.”
The promise in his voice wasn’t just about safety. I stepped into him, closing the last inch between us, my hands fisting the front of his shirt. His mouth was on mine before I could think about anything else, the kiss deep and consuming—like he was pouring all the fear, the fury, and the relief of finding me back into the kiss. When we finally broke for air, his forehead rested against mine, his breath rough.
“Ward’s done,” he said, voice low and heated. “Now you’re mine for the night.”
He moved closer, slow and sure, until my back met the wall beside the window. His palm flattened there, caging me in without touching. The space between us was thin, charged, pulling tighter with every breath.
“You’ve been through hell,” he murmured, his voice low and rough, “and all I’ve wanted since pulling you out of that place… is this.”
His fingers brushed under my chin, tipping my head up. The kiss started soft, but it didn’t stay that way. It deepened, like he tried to erase every trace of the dungeon from my body—replacing it with the feel of his mouth, his hands, the weight of him pressing into me. My fingers curled into his shirt, pulling him closer. His scent—clean leather, lavender, and pine—wrapped around me, grounding me as much as it ignited something deep in my chest.
Zane broke the kiss enough to speak against my lips. “Tell me to stop and I will.”
I didn’t.
His jacket hit the floor. Then my boots. His hands mapped familiar paths over my hips and waist, every touch both a promise and a claim. We moved toward the bed in a blur of urgency, but not without pauses. Those brief moments where his forehead rested against mine, where he searched my eyes like he needed to see proof I was here, alive, wanting him as much as he wanted me.
When we finally hit the mattress, it wasn’t desperation that guided him anymore. It was intent. He took his time, like he had all night, to remind me what it felt like to be wanted without fear, to be touched without violence. And when his mouth found mine again, it was slower—deeper—anchoring me to the only truth that mattered in that moment.
He reached between us, guiding himself into me. We both let out a moan in unison, my body letting him know exactly what I wanted. He kept the pace slow, letting us savor every single thrust. Both of our tongues entangled each other, breathing each other’s air. Every few seconds, he trailed away from my mouth and gently sucked and nipped my throat. Leaving breathy moans coming out of my mouth. He bent his head down, sucking my nipple into his mouth, and gods, that was fucking amazing. His other hand was firmly gripping my ass.
He was grunting beneath the sucks. I could feel the flushing of warm liquid between us as my climax was building. He pulled himself off my nipple, ever so gently. Part of me yearned for more of that until he used his right arm to push himself up. He stared at me, watching, his eyes moving down my body. My cheeks flushing, I followed his eyes to watch where we met, him entering and pulling back every second. He reached down with his other hand, placing his thumb onto the bundle of nerves between my legs. He applied a little pressure by moving his thumb in a circular motion. My whole body was tingling, my vision was cloudy, and warmth was rushing over my entire body.
