Page 9 of Weave the Dark, Weave the Light
Jonathan knelt, his gaze never leaving theirs. Energy whipped between them, lifting Ari’s hair, rustling their skirt. It burned their veins. They wanted to devour every burst, then thrust it back into Jonathan. “Do you have a safeword?”
Jonathan blinked. “There’s nothing you can do that will harm me.”
Ari combed their fingers through Jonathan’s hair, then tightened their grip until Jonathan winced. “I don’t want to harm you; I want tohurtyou, but not beyond what you’re willing to bear. If not for yourself, then have one for me so I know you consent.” They pulled Jonathan’s head back, until his proud throat was exposed, and his body taut against Ari’s.
“Then Cygnus,” he whispered. “Let it be Cygnus.”
The swan. The constellation. When Ari let go, Jonathan gave a little groan. “You can be as rough as you’d like.”
That was a dangerous thing to say. Ari hiked up their skirt and pulled down their tights. They stroked themself, watching Jonathan’s hungry face. “Do you want me, Jonathan?” Their voice was rough and sharp, betraying desperation.
“Ari.” His reply was a rumble. “You know I do.”
Ari grasped Jonathan’s chin and guided their cock into his willing, hot mouth. They both moaned, Jonathan’s vibrating all around Ari. They thrust slowly at first, then with more force, their fingers twisted hard into Jonathan’s hair.
His hands climbed Ari’s legs.
“No. Behind your back, Jonathan. Surrender yourself to me.”
That whimper was the most powerful sound Ari’d ever heard. The moment a being full of power and eternity yielded to Ari’s will.
Energy shifted, twined, and flooded the room. Ari nearly came right there, thrusting deep into Jonathan’s throat. Instead, they pulled out and stepped back. Both their breaths were gulps, and Ari’s voice cracked as if they’d been the one on their knees. “Ever been cuffed and flogged, Jonathan?”
He shook his head. Behind those exquisite features, Ari spied excitement and fear. That only whetted their appetite. They pulled him to his feet and hauled him to their four-poster bed.
Yes, it was large. Yes, it occupied most of the room and had been hell to move. It also had hooks and rope hanging in perfect places, ready to be tied. “Stand here. Don’t move.”
“Yes, Ari.” Jonathan’s chest heaved.
Ari stripped their shirt on the way to their dresser and discarded their tights and shoes. They kept the skirt on. Took only a moment to find the cuffs and their favorite flogger before they returned to Jonathan. “Give me your wrists.”
He obeyed sweetly, and Ari nearly groaned as they bucked the leather cuffs on. Lazy tendrils of Jonathan’s element wrapped around Ari in return. “Don’t get smart.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” The snap in Jonathan’s voice said otherwise.
They turned Jonathan around, then tied him to the bed, limbs stretched wide. Ari drew their hands down Jonathan’s arms and back, then bit his shoulder, hard enough to garner them a gasp and a tremble. They reached around and stroked Jonathan’s dick and bit a matching bruise into Jonathan’s other shoulder.
“Please.”
Ari nodded. “Soon.”
Ari wasn’t sure what Jonathan was begging for—pain, pleasure, or that spell. They dropped to their knees to cuff Jonathan’s ankles, leaving Jonathan stretched between the pillars of Ari’s bed, before nipping one of Jonathan’s ass cheeks. He yanked on the ropes.
“Behave,” they whispered against Jonathan’s thigh.
“You don’t want me to.”
That was true. Ari wanted snark and mouth and all the power Jonathan could offer. They wanted to consume him, beat him, fuck him, and give him everything he wanted.
Weave me a spell.
A groan escaped Ari. They picked up their flogger and went to work, slowly. Gently, even. But as Jonathan twisted, shuttered, and moaned, they hit harder and faster. Under their blows, Jonathan’s back reddened and welts appeared. Leather cut into golden flesh and bright red points blossomed.
Broken skin. Blood. Jonathan’s energy streamed out of him with each moan, and Ari sucked it down as if they could hold the whole universe in their soul. With each stroke of the flogger, Jonathan cried out, raw and guttural. No way Theo and Bess didn’t hear. Or their neighbors. Ari didn’t care. They laid into Jonathan until they didn’t think he could take much more—until Ari knew thattheycouldn’t take more.
When they stopped, silence engulfed the room, disrupted by harsh breathing. Energy swarmed—so much power, Ari was drunk with it. Jonathan hung his head. All that held him from falling were the cuffs around his wrists.
Ari set the flogger on the bed and slid their hands up Jonathan’s sides, his skin warm and damp with sweat. “You’re exquisite, Jonathan. Beautiful.”
