Page 7 of The Salvation

The hand at my throat finally moves lower to cup my left breast, then my right. Palming them, he caresses and strokes the flesh as my too-softened muscles begin to retain their uses.

I hold onto this moment. Love the way he touches me like he’s petting me with no tension. My nipples are sore and reddened, but I don’t care when he plays with them, even if it makes my pussy quiver around him. I feel his fangs beyond his lips as they linger at the corner before they rub mine, folding my lips back to trace the seam with his tongue. I sigh against him, opening.

He doesn’t pull out yet, but he does carry me onto the shore, placing our naked bodies on his coat with my legs wrapped loosely around his hips. I don’t ask about all the bones scattered around the shore. I’m sure there’s a story. But I’m too focused on him to care. Too focused on how he traces his fingers along the curvature of my spine as if memorizing each vertebrae.

Gods, he’s so painfully beautiful. So dark and deep with those hoodless eyes marking my every twitch—always watching, stalking me from the shadows.

Tipping my head onto his shoulder, I shudder but still say nothing. So consumed by him, I could disappear into his touch. I’m in utter awe at how he manages to keep my blood stoked, my flesh warm despite the chilled wind rushing over my nudity. It might just make me want to stay naked around him all the time. I love wearing my boys’ clothes, but clothing in general can be so inconvenient.

Finally, Merikh growls against my neck, low and silken, breaking the silence. “Fuck, Quintessa, say something.”

“Hmm...” I sigh against his shoulder, brushing my lips upon his skin. “When do you think the others will come?”

Another snarl breaks from his throat. With two hands, Merikh cups my jaw and tilts my face, so he may bore his silver flame eyes onto mine.

“Oh, why do your eyes turn silver after we make love?”

He bares his fangs and I knit my brows together, confused. “No being in the universe in their right mind would or could describe what just happened as “making love”, Quintessa.”

I touch my fingertips to his chest, thrilling at his muscles contracting. Idly tracing his scars, thankful he lets me, I meet his eyes to say, “Well, I think we’ve established I’m not in my right mind.”

I giggle because no girl in her right mind would follow the monsters and cross the Veil of Souls. My fingers coast to the strong column of his neck, sensing the veins throbbing.

“What do you want me to say, Merikh? No, not the first part. But what you did on the shore, oh burning gods!” I gasp, trying to tilt my head back, but he gives my neck no inch to move. The vulnerability rocks me to my core—facing him this way, unable to look away, held captive in his soul-penetrating gaze. “I thought sex in your crypt was amazing, but here...Merikh, I’m undone!”

He dives in for the kiss. So hard and strong and deep, his fangs prick the edges of my lips, drawing blood. Blood, he licks and tastes while his hands explore my body, rousing my desire all over again until he’s fucking me again on the shore, my back to crushed bones, his wings rocking in the wind.

By the time he’s done, I’m certain I’ve sunk halfway into the ground. Copious amounts of fluids gush out of me when he pulls out. Two of his fingers rub along my swollen folds, tender and inflamed from his cock, from his blood-charged power. I moan when he torments my slit, the sensitive tissue protesting.

Shifting onto his side and propping his head on his elbow, Merikh stares back at me while rubbing those fingers along my belly. Tracing my tattoos. “As much as I long to have you like this for the rest of the night, swollen and red and dripping with my seed, I’ll take you into the Sea one more time. I need you fully healed and strengthened for Court later.”

Turning, I press my cheek to the gritty bones and lift a finger to trace his cheek. We’re so close, all it takes is one inhale for my chest to brush his. “I’m assuming you mean to fuck me in your Court,Master?” I emphasize, not with loathing but with a soft seduction. His fingers pause, but I love how his cock twitches. My hand flexes with the need to touch his crown, those silver crosses.

He pinches his eyes, his brow furrowing. “Your mortal mind cannot possibly fathom what I intend to do to you at Court, Quintessa.”

“Hmm, you’re probably right.” I start to turn, but he captures my chin, luring my face back to his. I still beneath his touch, but my eyes are growing heavier, my body worn out by our time here. Our time, everywhere in the Court of Hollows.

“You have questions. Don’t lie to me,” he warns, voice deepening, thumb digging into my chin.

“My questions are drowning in a sea of questions.” I scoot closer, pressing my breasts to his chest. “I know you went somewhere, Merikh.” When he loosens his hold on my chin, I nuzzle against him, feeling him stiffen, tensing. “Somewhere dark and cruel and horrific. But you came back to me.” I dare to look up at him, discovering bewilderment in his silver orbs. “That’s all that matters. We were us. We are us. And I...love us, Merikh.”

As soon as I slide my arm around him, Merikh seizes my wrist and twists my hand away. “If you knew where I went, Quintessa, you would run. If you knew the darkness that will come for you, my darkness, my monsters, you would wish to take your own life and destroy yourself before I do.”

I shake my head, my breath drifting away like a little white dove’s ghost. “I could never run from you, Merikh. Not when you’re in my veins, pumping life into my heart.”

His jaw hardens. Denial. Chiseled resolve. Damn it all. My pulse quickens with mine.

“You believe you can save the God of Blood who is known to chill spines and turn children’s dreams into nightmares to this day. You believe I will somehow transform into a better version of myself?”

“Oh, gods, I hope not.” I laugh. I press my body against his, giggling a little too madly for the moment. “I like you just the way you are, my big, bad, broody bloodsucker.”

“Quintessa,” he growls, coiling a hand around my throat and gripping it to shrivel my air. Endorphins engulf my system at the same time that he locks his eyes onto mine and says, “I am not bad. I am an irredeemable, incurable, lost, and evil monster. Incapable of feeling anything beyond the mere physical enjoyment I retain from causing pain and degradation. Even if you could find my soul—when I have spent a useless ten thousand years searching the Waste for it—nothing but death and ruin wait for you here.”

He releases me in just enough time to grant me air, but the flesh at my throat is raw, a bruise already swelling there.

Sucking in a few deep breaths, I burn my eyes onto his and say, “If that were true, Master, then I wouldn’t be here. We wouldn’t be here. If that were true, you wouldn’t have raised me back up when you could have let me drown.” I gesture to the Sea before us before planting a hand on his chest above his frozen heart. “You don’t need to fucking change for me. You don’t need to protect me. I told you to break me. I told you to break my heart and take everything. Drown me. Bleed me. Just keep my blood flowing and my heart beating until I hold your soul in my hands. Even if it takes an eternity, I’m not running. I will not leave you.”

I believe the words. They are truth burned into my very half soul. I don’t expect him to believe me. Not when he’s been hemorrhaging for centuries. I can’t restore him overnight.

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