Page 209 of What Lies Within Blood & Heirs

There was no rush, no urgency. Feeling the unhurried glide of his thrusts, making love to her thoroughly. The care and love deeply rooted within them, as something … something began to pour from his chest and grip her so tightly, she was hopeless of ever being parted from it.

But it wasn’t his heart she felt spilling and mixing with hers. It was his soul. That thing that belonged to her and hers to him. Twining together, melding and reforming as one with every slow thrust of his hips.

Garrik pulled back, wholly disarmed—exposed—and held her gaze, yielding to the melody that Alora had been homesick for her entire life as it sang in their heartbeats. “I love you,” Garrik tenderly vowed. Leaving room for the unsaid to caress her down their tether and let it sing.

“I love you,” she vowed too, tracing her fingertips along the mounds of his biceps, along the burn scars on his death mark, until her hand rested over his heart.

Garrik buried his face against her neck. Feasting—claiming her in enchanting waves and long sweeps of his tongue. Trailing kisses down the stretched column, hovering there, flicking torturously until she thought she’d go mad if he didn’t travel further.

Alora arched her back, pressing her chest against his.

Garrik slipped from her flesh long enough to release a hungry growl. Cupping one breast, he took her nipple into his mouth, carefully biting, causing electricity to barrel down her spine, then swirling his tongue over the same spot.

Throwing her head back, Alora released a moan that flared the flames in the hearth. A sound she knew surged across the calm waters of the lake and splintered through the mountains until the stars rattled. She was going to burst into starflames. His—their—home would burn to ash if she didn’t practice control.

Garrik’s thumb stroked as icy breath fanned across her. “How am I ever to do a thing without thinking of you like this?” His hips rolled harder, strangling a moan deep from her gut. “Of feeling you like this. Of Seeing you like this—fuck.Alora. My beautiful wife.”

The borders of her vision shifted. Instead of looking into those radiant silver eyes, he projected his vision, so she looked down at herself. Scanning the magnificent aura of white hair and captivating sapphire eyes. At her skin gleaming and shimmering like a star shooting across the sky.

“They should be jealous,” he said roughly. “Every-fucking-one of them.”

Pleasure ripped from his throat as his restraint, the slow thrusts, became desperate. Garrik gripped her hip, angled her to sink deeper, and unleashed himself.

Alora chased him, unable to stop, just as wild and rapturous as she met his strokes with a perfect rhythm to match his.

Garrik’s hand drifted between them, finding her taut and gleaming and on the edge of oblivion. He released a groan, shuddering at hers as he thrust into her and lifted her leg up until he was impossibly deeper.

Smokeshadows exploded. Enough to devastate the room.

The sheer power of him had her hopelessly ruined.

Alora cried out as release slammed into her, and she wasn’t entirely sure that a star hadn’t exploded from the bright light erupting.

He slammed into her once—twice?—

Garrik’s roar echoed across the room and trembled this realm so intensely that a new one could’ve formed. She rode his thrusts, spilling into her over and over, crying out her name as she called his.

Only when Garrik collapsed, still seated inside her and panting against her neck as he stroked her cheek, only when his tender voice coaxed her back to this reality, did she open her eyes.

“Come back to me, my love. Look into my eyes.”

She did. Nothing would stop her from finding him again. From opening her eyes to gaze upon the beauty of him—of them. Because as she lay there, Alora knew she could die from this thing pulling her so ruthlessly to him and even a second of not seeing his face was the worst torture.

Darkness covered him. Like the aftermath of a burned building, it coiled and whorled.

And Alora—she gaped. That damper she held on herself had cracked entirely.

Stars and flames danced down her skin, mixing with his incredible power.

Garrik traced a shadow-covered finger down the flames of her arm, then between her breasts, and rested his head on her shoulder. She splayed her fingers in his hair, feeling the rumbleof his moan while she stroked the silken strands. For minutes—hours maybe—they lay there. Reveling in their magic, in their heartbeats. Breathing each other in and the calm of the realm when he broke the silence.

“What did I do to deserve love like this?” he murmured against the sensitive flesh below her ear. Garrik kissed it.

But he never needed todoanything. This wasn’t something he was required to perform for. Not something he would be tasked with for punishment or reward.

She gave it unconditionally.

Garrik was worth everything.Hewas enough. With powers or without them. High Prince or Lord of Darkness and Minds. The gray-haired demon or no title—hewas enough, scars and all.

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