Page 140 of Silver Claws, Crimson Tears
“They’re gone,” I rasp, surprising myself with the recklessness of it. But I live for these stolen moments with her.
Wind stirs around us, responding to our heightened emotions, lifting strands of her dark hair, caressing our heated skin like invisible fingers. The power of it—her power, mine, ours together—it’s intoxicating.
I pull back just enough to stare into her eyes. The hallway suddenly feels too exposed, the distant sounds of the fort too close. “Come,” I command, taking her hand and pulling her back toward the armory we just left.
“Vaylen, we shouldn’t—“ she protests, but her feet follow mine willingly, her fingers laced tightly with my own.
The heavy door closes behind us with a solid thud. I throw the bolt, sealing us inside the forgotten storage room with its dusty weapons and faded battle maps. Moonlight streams through the narrow high window, painting stripes of light across her face.
“Every moment could be our last, Rhealyn,” I say, my voice low and rough with need.
Her eyes darken as she steps toward me. “Then don’t waste it with words.”
Her challenge undoes me. I cross the space between us in two strides, lifting her against me. Her legs wrap around my waist as my mouth finds hers again, hungrier now, more demanding. I carry her to the worn oak table against the wall, sweeping aside rolled parchments with one arm.
When she finishes with the buckles of my jacket, she reaches for the chain with the onyx ring dangling from myneck, takes it in her palm, and studies it for a moment. A smile curves her lips before she gently sets it back against my heart.
“I’m glad you wear it,” she says, her touch lingering on the metal.
“Don’t you want it back?” I ask.
Her gaze flickers with something unreadable. “No.”
“One day?”
“Maybe.”
With an impish smile, she proceeds to undo my trousers, and everything fades to whispers compared to the thunder of desire in my blood. Her leather jacket falls open beneath my practiced fingers. I trace the curve of her collarbone, feeling her shiver under my touch. She’s beautiful in the moonlight, all graceful lines and soft shadows.
“I dream of fucking you every night you’re not with me,” I confess, my hands sliding down to her hips, pulling her closer to the edge of the table.
She arches against me, her fingers threading through my hair, tugging me down for another kiss. “Show me,” she demands.
Her trousers come away easily, and mine follow. When she guides my cock, and I enter her, we both gasp—her eyes locked with mine, her legs tightening around me. The table creaks beneath us as we move together, finding our rhythm like we’ve done this a hundred times before. But it’s only the third time. I’m keeping count.
“Oh, Vaylen,” she moans, her head falling back, exposing the tempting line of her neck. I claim it with my mouth, tasting the salt of her skin.
We move faster, urgent and demanding. The way her body responds to mine—it’s my undoing. Every gasp, every arch of her back, every time her nails dig into my shoulders, it’s all I can do not to lose myself completely.
“You feel like heaven,” I growl against her ear, my voice rough with need. My thumb finds that sensitive peak between her legs, circling slowly at first, then faster as her breath hitches. “So wet for me, Rhealyn. Always so ready.”
Her hips lift to meet my touch. “Vaylen—” My name is a plea on her lips, and it sends a surge of possessive satisfaction through me.
I drop to my knees before her, my hands gripping her thighs, spreading them wider. The scent of her arousal fills my senses, intoxicating as any battle lust. “I need to taste you,” I murmur, my breath hot against her inner thigh.
Her answer is a broken moan as my tongue replaces my thumb, tracing slow, deliberate circles. She tastes like sweet ambrosia. Her fingers tangle in my hair again, holding me to her as I work her with my tongue, my lips. The sounds she makes—soft whimpers, sharp gasps—they’re the most beautiful music I’ve ever heard.
When her thighs begin to tremble, I pull back just enough to murmur, “Come for me, love. Let me hear you.” Then I lap again.
She does, her body shuddering as she cries out my name. I don’t give her time to recover before I’m standing again, lifting her hips to meet mine as I enter her in one smooth thrust.
Her legs lift, driving me deeper. I capture her mouth with mine, swallowing her moans as we move together. The table groans beneath us, but I don’t care. Let it break. Let the whole fortress hear.
“You’re mine,” I growl between kisses, my hands gripping her hips possessively. “No matter what happens, no matter what we face, you’re mine, Rhealyn.”
Her answer is a fierce kiss, her tongue tangling with mine as her nails rake down my back. The pain only fuels the fire between us, and I losemyself in her completely.
Her fingernails dig into my shoulders, her body arching against mine as I drive into her with deliberate force. The table still creaks beneath us, but I don’t slow. Can’t slow. Not when she feels this perfect around me, so tight and hot, not when her breath comes in sharp gasps and her legs quiver.
