Page 16 of My Blood Is Yours

Without another word, Evandriel turns, leaving Sariel and me alone. Taking a deep breath to steady my nerves, I turn to face Sariel. My willpower proves feeble—eyes dropping again to my poor male’s groin.

Poor, however, isn’t an adjective that could ever be associated with Sariel’s nether region.Impressive?Yes.Massive? Yes.Aesthetically appealing?Absolutely.Mouthwatering? Without-a-fucking-doubt.

Who knew the words semen sample could make a person giddy. Yet here I am, anticipation alighting every nerve of mine as those two bizarre words echo in my mind as my eyes trail over his body.

A few shades darker than the rest of his body and with a faint hint of purple, the dark, glowing gold lines decorating his body run the length of his silky cock, ripe with plump veins begging to be worshipped by my tongue—something I’ve never had any practice with, though I yearn to do it to him all the same.His girth is likely the width of my wrist, and the mere sight of it causes my core to clench with desire.

At the base of his cock is the thick bulge I remember from my dreams. Wetness is already blossoming in my core as if preparing to take it.

God of heaven and earth, what is wrong with me? The male is in shackles, and here you are, simpering over his body.

Inwardly, I recognize it is so much more than that. This male is three years’ worth of dreams, consuming nearly every one of my waking thoughts. He is the male I knew I was destined for. And he for me. Even if my belief did waver, as logic would have it.

But oh dear god, as my eyes take in the broad crown of him that boasts a prominent, thickly flared edge—again, just begging for my lips to cushion either side of it as I lave it with affection—that primitive and salacious part of me shoves all logic and thought for our circumstances and this cursed cell out of the nonexistent window. Wetness and heat pool between my thighs as I watch his cock harden beneath my gaze, growing impossibly larger, and the gilded markings running its length glow all the brighter.

Sariel clears his throat, his baritone voice so tight it snaps me out of my stupor. I find his cheeks darkening with embarrassment. “Forgive me, Elowen…”

My gulp is audible, and my breath comes out little more than a sigh. “It’s only a natural reaction.”

I move into action, determined not to make him anymore uncomfortable, and take the opportunity to change the subject. Finally ask the question that’s been echoing endlessly in my mind since his arrival. “How did you end up here?”

“My kind are endowed with a gift that enables them to find their mate once they reach a certain maturity that varies in each individual. It is called The Summoning. It is a sacred event and a powerful, undeniable compulsion that can lead someone to crossrealms, go to any lengths, to find theirsoulbound...I came here for you, Elowen.”

Against all logic, I already knew in my depths,whyhe was here, but hearing his confirmation of this wholly inconceivable detail brings tears to my eyes nonetheless. Tears that I desperately try to stifle. Sariel already has enough reason to be troubled; I needn’t add to it. Still, my lips tremble as I clarify myself.

“I didn’t askwhyyou came here, darling. I askedhow.”

Sariel’s breath catches as his gaze holds mine. The shifting of the reflected light reveals to me their movement as he studies my face. “You knew?”

“Not explicitly, but… to some degree, yes. Though I am grateful to hear it in your own words.”

Confusion knits his brows. “Humans have The Summoning too?”

I shake my head.Not that I know of.

If our circumstances weren’t so bleak, I’d laugh at how surreal this is. Even with him here in front of me, my logical mind still whispers in a distant voice that this is all a dream, and I’ve succumbed to my mother’s condition.

“No, but I had dreams. For years.”

His brows dip. “Years?”

I nod.

“My Summoning only began three months ago.”

My lips tease a smile. “Well, what took you so long?”

My heart leaps at the sight of his own grin curling at the corner of his mouth. “I came as soon as I could, love.”

Those blasted tears in my eyes threaten to spill. Before he can notice them, I turn and bend at the waist to lift the bucket and bring it closer to him.

My eyes catch on a drain in the center of the floor as I do so. I can’t help but wonder just how many other poor souls have beentrapped here before. And to think—this whole time, I’d been giving my body to the devil who dragged them here. Nauseous guilt twists my gut, and I shove the thought away, deciding I can only handle one thing at a time.

Grabbing the sponge, I give it a squeeze, draining it of some of the water as I fetch the bar of soap within. When I straighten to face him, I realize there is no way in hell I’ll be able to reach the top of his head or wings, their claw tips nearly above his horns.

His eyes latch onto mine, and as if reading my mind, he bends down to one knee and then the other. It brings us eye level. Something unspoken seems to pass between us, what exactly I’m not sure. But it makes my heart squeeze all the same. I have the most bizarre urge to press a kiss to his brow and tell him everything’s going to be okay. To graze my lips against his, something I’ve done with no man.

Despite not being a virgin, Forsythe has never kissed me. He’s barely touched me with anything other than his cock. The very memory now makes me want to gag, and I promptly shove it from my brain. Though I feel a chest-full of satisfaction at that fact because I now realize that I want no one other than the male before me to lay his lips upon me.

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