Page 153 of The Crimson Walls Of Algorath

Azriel pulled out, hands gripping her inner thighs, and said, “Get back on your knees, my love.”

At first, Ariadne looked at him with parted lips and did not move. Then she bit her lip, heady eyes sparkling and mouth curling into a small smile and did as she was told. She rolled onto her belly before lifting onto her knees, bringing that beautiful ass back toward him again. He ran his hand over the unmarred planes of her back, relishing the soft skin there.

“That’s it,” he praised and grabbed her hips to hold them steady as he slid his cock back into her slick sex.

Ariadne gasped at the angle, her back arching as she collapsed her elbows to the mattress. He reached around and rubbed her bud so each thrust she took was accompanied by an additional wave of pleasure. She cried out again and again as he moved, looking over her shoulder to watch him.

Burying his face in the back of her neck, Azriel moaned, each stroke a struggle to keep from climaxing. He didn’t want to have to stop yet. Didn’t want to wait to take her again. All he wanted was to remind her—to remind himself—that they were there, together, and no one would get between them again.

With his free hand, he found her breast and played with her nipple, drawing out another cry of pleasure. He released a husky chuckle and kissed her shoulder. Gods, he could do this all night.

Until Ariadne took hold of the hand pinching and teasing her breast and brought it back to her mouth. She licked his forefinger long and slow. The tantalizing sensation made him tense, his other hand pausing momentarily in its loving strokes. Then she pulled his finger into her mouth and sucked.

Oh. Gods.

Azriel barked a curse, thrusting hard. She pushed her hips back, meeting him eagerly as her climax struck again and her sex gripped his cock even tighter. The cry of ecstasy released her hold on his finger. Beautiful. Symphonic. With such a sound, there was no stopping the inevitable, and he followed her over the edge, pounding into her as he finished.

When at last they stilled, Azriel slumped forward to lay his forehead on her back, then kiss a line up her spine. After a beat, he sat up again to ease his cock free of her, enjoying the view as he did so.

Ariadne turned to her back and gazed up at him. Her sensual, plump lips curled mischievously. “Come here.”

He obeyed, stretching his body beside hers, and when she curled up against him, he let out a long, slow breath. This was what he’d fought for. She was why he worked so hard to survive that gods’ forsaken place.

“I love you,” he said, pressing his lips to her forehead.

She hummed, tucking her body close. “I love you.”

“Until the very end.”

Chapter 36

It’d been a while since Azriel had had sleep terrors of past deeds. When he bonded with Ariadne over a year ago, those that haunted him included her screams—that he caused her screams. He had, of course, and for that, he’d never forgive himself. They crept in during his time in Algorath, but the memory loss had kept them from tormenting him during his waking hours.

The terrors returned in full force their first day together, however, despite her presence sating the bond. As though Melia continued to torture him from beyond her fiery grave. Whether she made it to Empyrean or was bound to the Underworld, she likely enjoyed watching him squirm.

This is what you deserve.

While most memories had been restored upon reuniting with Ariadne, several gaping holes remained in what he endured in Algorath. Namely, the nights of Melia’s parties. The drugs she’d given him had effectively wiped his mind clean for hours at a time. It wasn’t until the morning following each soiree that he could refocus.

Those gaps distressed him the most. Though most days he’d awoken alone in his cell, the morning following Ada burned into his mind. And it was in his weakest moments, such as when he was sleeping, that his mind became his enemy. It filled in those gaps with images and words and sounds that hurt him more than any blade could—no matter how fictional they were.

Azriel woke with a start from one such terror in the hut, Ariadne still curled up beside him. She slept soundly, one arm under her head and a hand on his chest. He shifted out from under her touch, heart pounding, and swung his legs over the edge of the small bed to ground himself by planting his bare feet on the cold floor.

Burying his face in his hands, he sucked in a long deep breath at the same moment he felt the familiar curl of Razer’s consciousness in his mind. He had half a mind to shut the dragon out. Such things had never helped him in the past, though, so he eased down his mental walls without a word.

“She doesn’t blame you,” Razer said, his voice soft. “These things were out of your control.”

He shook his head, knowing full well the dragon couldn’t see him—but he felt it. “I blame myself.”

It all went back to the beginning. If he hadn’t been so careless…if only he’d had the guts to kill Loren in the duel for Ariadne’s hand. If, if, if. None of the ifs would help him now. It was done, and he’d paid the price. His wife had paid the price of his mistakes.

“You carry heavy burdens,” Razer continued unperturbed. “You need to share them with her and stop pretending you’re alone. You cannot lead if you’re still afraid of the past.”

“I don’t want to lead.” Azriel scrubbed his face with his hands. “Just like he didn’t want to.”

Razer chuffed, and Azriel felt him shift his body into a more comfortable position. “As if you have a choice, dhomin.”

“And we’re done now.”

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