Текст книги "Horns of Wicked Ebony"

Автор книги: Lacey Lehotzky

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Текущая страница: 12 (всего у книги 43 страниц)

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18

The transition from the dry, sandy air of the desert to that of the briny sea was a welcome change. As we passed over another rolling hill, the town of Fured spread before us, stretching across the plateau that led directly to the deep blue ocean. Marshy green plants lined the road, swaying in the salted breeze. I’d spent more time here in my centuries of life than anywhere else in the Demon Realm, including Uzhhorod.

The military academy Xannirin, Rapp, and I had attended sat like a solemn companion to the bustling seaside town. From the distance, it appeared as an impenetrable fortress, with high, round turrets spaced at regular intervals in every direction. The stone battlements jutted against the cliffside, preventing any attacks from the rear. Not that anyone would be stupid enough to attempt to scale the sheer cliffs battered by fierce, frothy waves.

The wind too was a formidable opponent. A vivid memory of being pushed off the tallest tower at the rear slammed into me as my gaze landed on it. The howls, the screams, the snap of wings from every initiate faced their death at the hands of the sharp rocks and rough ocean below. The way the air had buffeted me, dragging me like a leaf. The giddiness of the freefall tugged at my chest. As did the pride in how my wings had snapped open at the penultimate moment and caught a draft that carried me away from the perilous rocks.

Yet the male who’d fallen after me had exhausted himself, unable to maneuver his body properly, and dropped like a stone into the sea.

His death didn’t stir sorrow in me. Or regret. Or any other emotion. Nor did the dozen others who’d succumbed to the mighty power of nature.

War was a game of survival. If they couldn’t thrive at the academy, they wouldn’t have lived through a single battle.

Black banners whipped in the wind atop the turrets, still bearing the army’s crossed sword sigil. Which meant that the Kral had not yet arrived. When he did, they’d be replaced with burgundy banners, all bearing the triple skulls of House Vrak.

My stomach unknotted. With our late departure as we waited for Rapp to awaken, I had worried they’d beat us here. I’d secretly hoped they’d been waylaid on their journey so I had a moment to reorient myself before speaking with them.

My small prayers have been answered.

“So this is it?” Assyria asked softly beside me.

I tore my attention away from the academy and to my mate. Black leather armor clung to her like a second skin, and her posture atop her new mare was proud and square. Blaeze had gone lame after our harrowing journey, and he deserved a rest. Much like the soldiers beginning to display trauma responses trailing behind us. They’d fought, they’d bled, they’d survived countless skirmishes—some for years. That didn’t come without heavy strings attached.

Fured had always been a place of discipline. Brutality. Unforgiving training.

But perhaps it could become something…different.

With the arrival of Assyria, with the arrival of the females, with the future we were fighting for, maybe, just maybe, this would be the crucible of change. Where wounds of all types could heal. Where those long since separated could reunite.

Where the Fates would shine their favor and aid us in ending this fucking war.

Assyria dug her heels into the horse’s dark bay belly, urging her on. We’d ridden side by side the entirety of our trek from the Paks Desert, and I let her edge ahead now as we closed in on the fork in the road.

At the peak of the hill, she halted, scanning the vastness of the scene before us, the scouting skills I’d taught her all those months ago kicking in. A small smile tugged at my lips. Our time in Fured would be spent further honing her powers and fighting skills. When we returned to the front, she’d be fully prepared to face the Angels again.

And slaughter them at every step.

She would be as formidable as she looked now with her hair braided back, sharp tongue ready to cut down all who questioned her.

“This is it,” I echoed her words, tugging on my stallion’s reins and angling him beside the mare. Assyria’s mind tumbled over all the horrific memories I’d shared with her about my father and everything that had happened to me here.

“It’s…different than I pictured,” she said, shifting in her saddle.

“What were you expecting, little imposter?” I asked, draping my hands at the pommel of my saddle.

She lifted a shoulder and let it drop. “Something more sinister I suppose.”

A low chuckle vibrated in my chest. “Have I spoiled you so thoroughly, mate, that only danger makes your heart race? Makes you feel alive?”

Her attention drifted to me, teeth digging into her lower lip. “No.”

“Then I’ll do better,” I replied, my tone laced with dark intent.

Hoofbeats shattered our moment, and I tilted my head over my shoulder. The rest of our group had finally caught up.

Which meant it was time to continue on. A heavy sigh escaped me, and I rolled out my neck.

My mate looked up at me, those devious burgundy eyes sharp with scrutiny. “Are you ready?”

“Aye,” I replied, clucking my tongue and setting the black horse into motion again. The left hand split would take us straight to the entry of the academy. Turning onto that road didn’t ignite feelings of warmth or home in me. Instead, the cold dread clung to me like a thick fog.

“Are you going to give me more than one or two word answers if I ask other questions about the academy?” she quipped as her mare fell into step beside me.

“If you would like, I can,” I grumbled.

Fucking hate when she calls me out like that.

She offered me a saccharine smile. “Yes, please.”

My blood heated, going straight to my groin. “I do like when you beg.” I steered my stallion closer to her. “Maybe later, I’ll have to make you beg for something else.”

Lust swept down our bond. “Only after we’ve bathed,” she replied, her voice breathy in my mind.

“Wait until you see my rooms here. You’ll want to bathe together,” I told her as images of us doing just that flashed through my mind.

Her throat worked deliciously.

Ahead of us, twin siege doors groaned open. To be fair, a party of this size was hard to miss, especially with spotters posted at each of the forward towers all hours of the day. And now, with the Angels clawing deep into Demon territory, it was necessary.

I glanced behind us to the cart where Rapp rode, only a dozen or so paces behind. He was still somewhat incapacitated, especially when it came to holding himself upright. At least after a few weeks of healing, he had more use of his arms and could feed himself. Any tugging on his chest muscles though set him back by days.

Which he’d done too many times already, to no one’s surprise.

From the doors, a group of soldiers emerged, headed by Parancsok Olet. He was the highest ranking officer in residence, overseeing the training of the high-powered Demons I’d sent here after the mass conscription. His maroon armor gleamed in the sunlight, and I appreciated that he hadn’t grown sloppy without my oversight. His discipline was one of the reasons I’d selected him to lead this charge.

Other ranking soldiers framed him, and they all dropped to one knee, resting their foreheads on their arms as we came to a halt. I dismounted my stallion, handing the reins to Assyria, and approached the Parancsok.

“Rise,” I told him, and he did, though everyone else remained in their venerating postures.

“Halálhívó,” he greeted me, scanning my face with an understandable curiosity. “I am pleased your journey was safe and swift. How fares Hadvezér Rapp?”

Prior to our departure, I’d sent a raven explaining that we’d be joining him in Fured with injured from the front and that Xannirin and Kiira would be bringing a group of females around the same time, since I didn’t know how long their journey would take. The specifics and reasons behind each, I’d left out. Those conversations would happen later, face to face, to ensure he would assist in steering those he’d been training in the right direction.

“He is unhappy with his current predicament, naturally. Hopefully some time by the sea will be restorative for him,” I commented, gesturing over my shoulder at the wagons rolling to a stop.

Olet chuckled, his attention following mine. “That it will. We’ve prepared your rooms, and another for Hadvezér Rapp to rest comfortably. The healer is waiting to see him as well.”

I scanned the rest of the males, still kneeling. “Good. Once we’re settled, let’s speak in my office.”

“Yes, Halálhívó, I am at your command,” he replied. Then, he snapped his fingers, and everyone behind him rose. “Assist with settling our new compatriots into the barracks.”

The soldiers peeled off in the direction of our convoy. Voices soon filled the air, smothering the cries of gulls flying overhead and the waves crashing against the cliffs below. Assyria dismounted and grabbed both our horses’ reins, leading them forward.

“Parancsok Olet,” she said, keeping her shoulders square and chin lifted. Though down our bond, a hint of trepidation trickled. After all, the last time they’d seen each other, he’d thrown her at my feet and asked me how she should be punished for her crimes.

Recognition flickered in his maroon eyes. His dark brows pinched, leaving a deep crease. He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could, she cut him off.

“I’m glad to see you arrived safely after your departure from Uzhhorod,” she said, her regard sweeping over him. She addressed him like a superior, not a female once punished at his hand. It was a bold move, and it was everything I’d come to love about her.

“This is Assyria, the Szélhámos. My mate,” I introduced her, formally, to Olet. A healthy amount of threat weighed in my tone.

He paled as his attention flicked between the two of us. Then, he ran a hand over his close-cropped hair before gripping the back of his neck. “Mate?” he finally managed to get out.

“I will explain further later,” I replied, leaving no room for argument.

“Of course, Halálhívó,” he said, a slight tremble in his voice.

Could I blame him? He’d whipped Assyria, flaying her back open. And I was the most feared Demon in all of Keleti for a reason. Did a part of me want to offer him the same for daring to harm my mate? Of course. But I’d decided on the road here that he’d receive no reprimand from me. He was only acting on information he had at the time.

And I needed his loyalty now more than ever.

With a little more respect, he greeted Assyria, even offering her a slight bow. She may never be a Kralovna in title, but in my eyes? She ruled the world. “Welcome to Fured, Szélhámos.”

She kept her expression decidedly neutral as he straightened. Pride swelled in my chest. Assyria was growing more and more confident interacting with the officers and soldiers with each passing day.

“Thank you, Parancsok Olet. I trust that you’ll be able to assist in training the new female units. My mate has told me many great things about you. I hope they are all true.” Her voice dripped with sweetness, though a snarky bite threaded through it.

So very typical of my little imposter.

He glanced at me again, utter confusion playing out across his myriad of expressions.

I merely waited, stone-faced, for him to respond. Assyria was taking a risk with the way she spoke to him, especially in front of all these males who did not know her. I wanted her to see it through. To own her rightful place at my side, even if it wasn’t a subject I would have broached in the open.

Finally, he cleared his throat and said, “Absolutely, Szélhámos. Whatever you need me to do, I shall do.”

“First, we should drop the horses off at the stables and ensure Rapp is settled,” she pronounced, now turning her attention to me.

“I’ll show you where they are,” I told her. “See you at dinner, Olet.”

He offered us a salute as we entered the doors to the academy. People raced around us, all pausing to offer me a respectful greeting. Shouts of “Halálhívó!” rang out, but most died when they noticed Assyria beside me.

All these males had ridden out the night after the incident, and none, save for Olet now, knew of everything that had transpired. They didn’t have months to become accustomed to seeing her veilless, witnessing her interact with Rapp and me.

Guilt hit me like a stab to the gut at how long I’d let her suffer through their whispers, stares, judgment. She’d never faltered, rooting herself in steadfast defiance. I’d hated it. But now? It was something I wanted to protect. To nurture. To grow.

Reaching down our bond, I brushed a smoky tendril of magic against her mind. I wanted to reach for her hand, to feel her warm skin. Those small touches grounded me as much as they did her. Let me know she was safe by my side and not about to be strung up for a sacrifice by the Angels.

Through thick lashes, she peeked up at me, captivating me, as she always did, with those soulful burgundy eyes. At the stables, we handed off our mounts, then retraced our steps to the courtyard where the wagons were pulling in one by one. Rapp’s was at the front, with two Vezető crouched on either side of him and helping him to sit. Grem and Zeec had already hopped to the ground and peered up at them, tails wagging softly.

By the time we reached him, he was on his feet. “Just like old times, huh?” he asked me, grinning widely.

I rolled my eyes. “It’s nothing like old times.”

“Psh,” he said, then he winked at Assyria. “The only real difference is that you’re here now.”

“Come on, let’s get you to the healer so he can examine you. Might need your head checked as well,” I said, looping his arm over my shoulder and helping him amble forward. I whistled for the hounds to follow.

“Again, I can walk on my own,” he grumbled.

Assyria giggled behind us. “You can, but you’re too slow.”

“I suppose we both know that the Halálhívó likes to go fast,” Rapp quipped, and the two of them burst into laughter. A hiss slipped through his lips, and he winced. A sharp reminder of what he’d almost lost—what we’d almost lost.

“Knock it off, both of you, or he’s going to hurt himself again. Like the last time. And the time before that,” I pointed out.

Rapp grimaced and clutched his chest with his free hand. “Unfortunately this asshole is right.”

A short staircase greeted us as we turned a corner in the keep. The healing wing took up two floors, but the lower was for emergent cases. “Think you can go up them?” I asked, ducking out from under his arm. Grem and Zeec bounded forward, spinning at the top and looking down at us with an almost judgmental air.

Rapp nodded, gritting his teeth. Gripping the railing on his good side for extra support, he hauled himself up, one slow step at a time. Assyria went beside him, while I hovered two paces behind, ready to catch him should he fall.

Halfway up, we paused, and I glanced around the familiar space. It was decidedly quiet, save for voices drifting from other halls. Rapp wiped sweat off his brow and planted his boot on the next step. I knew from experience he wouldn’t want many people to see him this weak.

When we finally summited, I told Assyria to jog ahead and find the lead healer. Rapp shuffled the rest of the way on his own, using the wall for support, though I was primed to step in the moment he needed it.

The ruby-eyed male appeared, my mate in tow, moments later, his assessing eyes already raking over his Hadvezér. “Get in here and let me look at you. Those combat healers don’t always do the best job of actually curing ailments,” he grumbled. “Sloppy at best, the lot of them.”

Assyria slammed a hand over her mouth to silence a snicker.

“If you tell me I can draw a bow or swing a sword tomorrow, I’ll tell you how much better you are than them,” Rapp commented as he rounded the corner and into an examination room.

The lead healer released a sigh threaded with so much irritation I was surprised when he didn’t smack the back of Rapp’s head. “Just sit on the table.”

“Wait,” Assyria told Grem and Zeec before following us inside. The hounds huffed but did as they were told, framing the entry like twin statues.

Together, Assyria and I helped Rapp settle into place, though he attempted to shrug off our assistance. But the pallor of his skin and sheen of sweat on his forehead spoke of just how difficult the short trek was for him. He tipped his head back against the wall, chest rising with shallow breaths as he unlaced the leather armor.

The healer opened a nearby cabinet and piled instruments and potions onto a small table.

“We’ll leave you to it,” I said.

“You’ll have my full report this evening,” he promised, dragging his supplies closer to Rapp.

Assyria gave Rapp a quick squeeze on his thigh. “We’ll see you later. Promise.”

He merely nodded and continued to work his shirt off.

“Be a good boy and do as the lead healer says,” I told him, unable to help the twist of my lips.

Assyria laughed as Rapp flashed me an obscene gesture. The healer muttered something under his breath about Rapp harming himself further. With that, we left our obstinate friend behind and reentered the hall. I closed the door behind us with a gentle click, ensuring Rapp had privacy while the healer examined him.

“Now what?” my mate asked me. The dog’s nails clicked against the stone floors as we left the healing wing.

“Now, we bathe. And if you’re lucky, I’ll let you touch more than soap.”

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19

Rokath hadn’t been lying when he said his rooms were incredible. At the top of one of the rear towers, the suite was both private and luxurious. Set into the stone of the sitting area were wide windows with a view sweeping over the vast sea cliffs and into the ocean. I pressed my hand to the cool glass as I peered down, trying to glimpse what waited beneath.

My mate moved through the suite with crisp efficiency, stripping cloths from the furniture like he was readying a battlefield instead of our accommodation. Backing out of his way, I took in the rest of the space. A set of double doors led into a sleeping chamber, and beyond, the promise of a place to bathe.

The space wasn’t quite as nice as his rooms at Gyor Palace, but far better than the tent to which I’d become unfortunately accustomed.

Grem and Zeec trotted past me and onto plush beds jutted against the wall beneath the windows, flopping onto one each. Thankfully they didn’t leap onto the bed, because like me, both could use a nice, long bath. The promise of the fluffy mattress was almost too good for me to pass up, though.

Rokath dropped our bags in a corner of the sleeping chamber, drawing my attention. “I’ll warn you now that life here is extremely regimented, and I expect you to follow along with it–”

I opened my mouth to speak, but Rokath beat me to it. “Without protest.”

My teeth clicked shut, and I huffed. “What kind of regimen are we talking?”

“There are three groups, all of which maintain a similar schedule that starts at different times. But everyone in that cohort rises at the same time. Eats every meal at the same time. Trains at the same time. Studies at the same time. Goes to bed at the same time. And that time never deviates,” he explained slowly, his hands rising ever so slightly like he was preparing to defend himself.

“Okay but we’re above the rules right? That’s been made abundantly clear time and time again,” I quipped, crossing my arms and popping out a hip.

Rokath removed his helmet slowly, revealing the utter seriousness etched in his face. Internally, I groaned.

“Here, especially with the females joining us, we must demonstrate the utmost respect for the rules. Even the males accompanying us haven’t ceased grumbling about the changes, and if they believe even for a second that the females receive different treatment, that will only fuel their arguments,” Rokath pointed out.

“Arguments you’ve used for centuries to keep females out,” I shot back.

“I am aware,” he groused, setting his helmet to the side. Then, he unbuckled his armor piece by piece and strapped it around a dummy to hold its shape. When he yanked his shirt overhead after, my thighs clenched. His powerful physique never ceased to swirl up a twister of desire inside me, especially now that we’d admitted our feelings to one another.

“So about that bath…” I began, the rule following and rule breaking forgotten. With unashamed hunger, I raked my gaze over the hard planes of his torso and the ink that covered them.

He returned the look with equal heat as I yanked on the laces of my leather tunic and dropped it to the floor. “Come,” he commanded in the only way that made me want to obey.

The bathing chamber alone was nearly as large as the sitting area. My jaw dropped as I took in every inch of the space. A massive tub stood before windows taller than Rokath with a perfect view of the ocean. Stone slabs lined the floor, while the ceiling, much like the sleeping chamber, crescendoed upward. Light danced around the space as the clouds parted.

Rokath turned the taps, and water crashed into the carved rock, echoing in my ears. “You’ll probably want to rinse over there first,” he said, pointing to a waist-high faucet that protruded out of the wall. Beneath it, a thick drain waited.

I stripped out of the last of my clothes, nose crinkling at the pungent stench that clung to them, and flung them through the open doorway. “Don’t tell me I’ll have to wash my own clothes now too.”

His pants sailed past me a moment later. “That is a perk we will maintain.”

“Thank the Fates,” I breathed, nearly sagging with relief. I kicked a foot beneath the stream of water, only to be met with a bitter chill. With a yelp, I jumped straight into the warmth of Rokath’s skin. His laugh rumbled against my back. Along with a press of his massive length.

Whipping around, I faced him. The layers of grime on both of us were apparent, especially now that we had stripped down.

He handed me a rough cloth. “This should help speed up the process.”

My attention dragged to the luxurious tub and the steam wafting off its surface with a divine hint of lavender. I hadn’t appreciated the bathing chamber on the estate in Stryi nearly enough.

Together we worked quickly to remove the worst of the dirt so we wouldn’t have to soak in it. And I planned on taking a long soak.

After the cloth was so brown that I wasn’t sure it was helping any more, I assessed my skin and deemed it clean enough. Draping it over a nearby rack, I approached the tub.

Liquid splashed as I dipped a foot in, nearly shivering at the temperature change. It wasn’t quite full enough yet, and thank the Weaver, the water didn’t immediately get dirty when I settled myself into it. What would happen when I dunked my head to wash my hair was an entirely different story. I wasn’t sure I’d ever be able to get all the sand off my scalp.

Moments later, Rokath joined me, ceasing the flow from the tap. I almost protested, but when he sat down, the water nearly sloshed to the rim, displaced by his bulk. The tub was large enough for both of us to stretch out comfortably, but to my surprise, Rokath grabbed my hands and tugged me into his chest. I straddled his lap, his hardness pressing against my core.

I rocked against it, a moan tearing from my lips. He moved his grip to my hips and dragged me along his length. “Keep that up and we’ll have to bathe thrice before dinner.”

“Please tell me we have time for that,” I groaned because that was exactly what I wanted. His thick cock filling me before, during, and after I cleansed months of sweat and dirt from my skin.

“Unfortunately not, little imposter,” Rokath rumbled, my ribs vibrating from the depths of his voice. He settled me into his lap, then leaned forward and dragged his nose up the length of my neck so he spoke his next words in my ear. “So I’m going to need you to come quickly for me. Can you do that?”

Heat coiled low in my belly. “I can,” I breathed, and Rokath reclined against the stone. The sun glimmered off the droplets clinging to his physique. His biceps flexed as he repositioned himself below me, the tip of his thick cock nudging at my entrance.

In one powerful thrust, he entered me, sending water spilling over the lip of the tub and onto the floor. A heady moan escaped me as he stretched me along his length. “Rokath,” I breathed, head tipping back.

“Look at me,” he growled, and I snapped my attention forward, finding his burgundy eyes igniting with lust. He speared into me from below, sending another cascade over the sides. Our bond thrummed with pleasure as he did it again, and again, and again. Tension wound through me as our eyes remained locked, water continuing to disappear around us. It was as if the ocean had entrenched itself in the tub, churning and frothing while Rokath held me in place and delivered me the most delicious ecstasy.

“You’re going to have to refill the tub,” I panted, bracing my hands on his bouldered shoulders to keep my balance as I began floating higher, higher, higher.

Rokath quickened his pace, brows pinching together and breath coming in ragged. “We live beside the sea now, little imposter. There is no shortage of water.”

He switched his grip, arching my lower back and dragging my clit against his hard abdomen. A gasp ripped from me as the friction increased. “Don’t stop. I need more,” I pleaded. He slammed himself to the hilt, making stars dance in my vision. Nearly all the water had sloshed out, and the barest amount remained to lap around my ankles.

In one smooth motion, he unseated and flipped me so I faced the windows. Crowding me from behind, he breathed in my ear, “Grab the edge.”

I did immediately, knuckles turning as white as the stone. In this position, Rokath was always relentless. He smacked my ass, hard, the sound echoing around the chamber. A cry tore from my throat, replaced instantly with a moan as he entered me again.

Fingers digging into my hips, he bowed my spine, hitting that spot deep inside me. “Fuck,” he rasped as my walls clenched around him. The polish of the window reflected his dark rapture as he moved inside me. And in that obsidian expression, I found safety. Protection. Certainty that he’d never let anyone hurt me again.

The ache from his boundless devotion bloomed in my chest, mirrored back to him as our eyes locked in our reflection.

Yet, the panes were wide, open, and should anyone fly up here, they’d have an unfiltered view into what we were doing. The thought made my blood heat.

“Your body is so fucking perfect. You are so fucking perfect, mate,” Rokath rumbled, reaching around for my neck. He tightened his grip ever so slightly and cut off my air. I floated even higher.

“What if someone flies up here and sees us?” I gasped out around his hand.

“Then they die,” he said simply, like there was no question about it.

Rokath pressed images of what exactly he’d do to the unfortunate person who witnessed him claiming me from behind into my mind. That only heightened the ecstasy of him thickening inside me. A small, wanton sound slipped out of me before I could stop it.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you, little imposter?” he growled, grip tightening.

“Yes.” I battled for air, arms trembling as I attempted to remain upright when all I wanted to do was collapse. Sweat beaded my forehead and dripped down my back as Rokath pounded into me. “More. Please.” Each word strangled out of me as the world spun. Specks flew in my vision, and I was wound so tight, it wouldn’t take much for me to snap.

He leaned over me, so fucking deep I thought I might split in two. Another cry tore from my throat. “Come for me while you think about what would happen to the unfortunate soldier who witnessed me claiming you.”

With expert fingers, he rubbed my clit, and then, I was gone. With more force than the waves below, pleasure crested and then crashed into me. Brows pinched, mouth open in a silent scream, I rode the tide of pleasure in and out.

“You’d like me killing in your name as much as you liked me punishing in your name. You know, I never did tell you that when those fucking fanatics took you from me, I beat a dozen soldiers bloody for allowing them so close to you. It wasn’t enough.”

Our bond swirled with violent promise and carnal pleasure. Wave after wave of dark desire swept from Rokath to me, prolonging my orgasm. Air flooded my lungs again after he surrendered my neck.

“I would,” I panted, blood thrumming in my veins with the anticipation of the slaughter to come. With the thought of the vengeance Rokath and I would seek against the Angels.

A massive gong reverberated, overtaking the sound of our slapping skin and my moans. “Fuck,” Rokath cursed, quickening his pace. “The Fates made you perfectly for me, Assyria. Our darkness. Our pain. Our pleasure.” To emphasize his point, he sank himself to the hilt and circled his hips.

“Yes,” I hissed, pressing into him. He grabbed my braid and wrapped it around his fist, forcing my spine to arch again.

“You are mine, Assyria. Always have been. Always will be. In every life, in every world, in every form.” All barriers between us swept away as he opened himself to me through the bond. His reflection darkened, much like his mood. That possessive protectiveness in him rose as his orgasm closed in on him. That only served to heighten my pleasure, and my toes curled as my core tightened again.

“Give me one more, since we’re already going to be late,” Rokath commanded, and I did, already so close to the edge. His name ripped from my throat as he thrust brutally into me, over and over and over. My mind went blank of everything but my mate.

He groaned, low, masculine, primal, and slipped out of me. Pumping himself, he coated my back in ropes of his hot cum.

Our breaths came in serrated drags as he gathered me in his arms and flipped me. His lips collided with mine, stealing what little air I had regained. With him, it was never enough—was never going to be enough.

He ended our kiss, bracing his forehead against mine. “Why do you cause me to break all my own rules?”

“You could adjust them,” I pointed out, a small smile curving my lips. I couldn’t deny that I loved the power I held over him though. From our very first interaction, he’d disregarded his carefully crafted regulations for me.