Page 128 of Of Sword & Silver

A bead of pearlescent fluid drips from his thick cock and I bend quickly, lapping at it, loving the way he doesn’t push me for more, the way he lets me take my time with him.

“Do you like that?”

“I would like anything you do,” he answers softly. I glance up at his face and the sweetness there sends a fresh wave of lust through me.

My plan to tease him dissolves and I readjust myself, ignoring the discomfort of the rocky ground beneath my knees. I position him at my entrance, rocking slowly back and forth on his length.

“So big.” My voice comes out strangled.

“You can take it, Kyrie. You were made for me,” he murmurs the words like they’re the greatest truth he can give me.

I rock again, nudging him deeper. He settles one hand on the curve of my hip, the other reaching between our bodies, his gaze ravenous on me as he finds the bud of my pleasure again.

A gasp tears out of me and I lean forward, kissing him hard, kissing him like I mean it. Like it might be the last time.

I whip my hips down and he sucks in a breath as he sinks into me to the hilt.

We pause, panting, holding each other. His gaze is the fathomless dark of death—but there’s inexplicable comfort in it, the warmth of a lover’s embrace at midnight, of laughing with a friend when you should be crying.

There is joy, too.

“Kyrie,” he grits out, and I start to move. He does too, and it doesn’t take us long to find a soft, steady rhythm.

It takes even less time for it to turn wild as we both chase our pleasure.

“I can feel you getting closer,” he says, sitting up, nibbling at my ear.

“So close,” I tell him, my fingers tangled in his hair.

“You are beautiful. You are mine. Mine, Kyrie.” He shifts again, and suddenly I’m the one on my back, hanging on for dear life as he slams into me. Our bodies make wet noises where they meet, his flesh in mine, both of us building to a crescendo that won’t be denied.

“Yours,” I say on a sob, so close I could scream, and he kisses me fiercely, his teeth marking my lips, his touch marking my soul.

When I come, he follows quickly, holding me tight against him, and it feels like the whole world has shifted underneath me.

46

THE SWORD

Iwill never be the same.

The thought’s chased off by a worse one.

It will never be like this again.

Kyrie dozes in my arms, the blanket pulled over our bodies.

I am as much a thief as the woman in my arms, ravaged by a past she had no control over and a curse she unwittingly chose. I have stolen these moments with her, this joy, and I will pay for it for the rest of my eternal life.

The worst part is, I am past caring.

I will spend eternity hating myself for what fate and the gods have decreed will happen next in exchange for these stolen moments of joy and pleasure.

That is the worst part of the curse we both bear.

I tuck her in more gently, slowly moving away from her to dress.

Sex with Kyrie was selfish. It was unkind, and it was cruel to her. Unnecessary to do what needs to be done, and thus out of character for me.

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