Page 157 of Ash and Feather

His head started to tip back, but my arms wrapped around his neck, pulling his mouth back down to mine. “Harder,” I breathed against his lips.

I felt a fresh, powerful wave of desire ripple through him. His eyes found mine again, burning with wild need, all his remaining restraint undone.

“Hold on to me,” he ordered.

As I linked my arms more tightly around his neck, he slipped himself out of me and stood, carrying me with ease toward the nearest wall. He pressed my back to it. The plaster was shockingly cold against my hot skin.

Any chill was forgotten an instant later, more heat engulfing us both as he grabbed one of my legs and lifted it. While holding it with one hand, he used his other to guide the tip of his cock back toward my entrance, teasing a few times before finally burying it deep inside of me.

He hooked an arm around my other leg and lifted me completely off the ground as he pounded harder, faster. His eyes were on me the whole time, studying the way I reacted to his every movement, watching for the things that drove me closer and closer to losing control, until finally—

I let go completely.

I forgot everything except the pulse and throb and pressure of him. I came with a cry, pressed between the firmness of the wall and the strength of him. Solid yet floating—I felt like I was back in the middle-heavens, held in his arms as we soared over the ground. All the rush and rapture of falling without any of the fear.

His release chased after mine, catching up to me with one last deep, powerful thrust that triggered another wave of my own climax. We shattered against one another, his arms wrapping more tightly around my body, crushing me against him until we were both fully emptied, fully spent.

We stayed in that position for several moments after, his skin flush against mine, our bodies shaking slightly, our breaths coming in gasps.

His eyes lifted to my face once more. A hint of wildness lingered in their silvery-blue depths, but he settled it and kissed me softly with a gentleness that would never stop surprising me after what I’d witnessed of his power.

He lowered me back to my feet, keeping a light hold on my waist until I’d fully regained my balance. He brushed one last kiss across my cheek and asked, “Are we relaxed, now?”

I couldn’t find my voice, so I lifted onto my tiptoes and kissed him instead. He took my hand and gave it a squeeze; we didn’t really need words.

He finally let me go, gathering up his clothing and heading into the attached washroom.

I ducked into that room as well, but lingered in it for some time after he left before I finally returned to our bed.

I moved quietly through the space, trying not to think, trying to hold on to nothing except what I’d felt while wrapped up in Dravyn’s embrace.

I couldn’t help noticing my surroundings, however; a dresser stood against the far wall, an ornate mirror attached to its top, and I caught my reflection in it as I pulled on my clothes and settled down on the edge of the mattress.

I’d made a point of not studying my face any more than I had to, here lately…it only stirred up all the questions I had about my identity. Questions I was tired of asking.

But now I found myself in a trance, unable to look away from the woman staring at me from across the room. Unable to stop thinking of the conversation I’d had with the king. How he had stared at me as well, trying to make sense of who—and what—I was. What I was going to do.

Dravyn had collapsed back into the pillows and blankets. His eyes were already closed. I tried, unsuccessfully, to follow his example, slipping under the covers and curling up tight, as if making myself smaller could help all my doubts and fears overlook me.

After several minutes of lying there, I was still wide awake.

I thought Dravyn had fallen asleep until he moved, hooking an arm around my waist and pulling me toward his chest. His voice rumbled against my shoulder a moment later, “The relaxation didn’t last, hm?”

I considered ignoring the question and pretending I was far closer to sleep than I actually was.

I knew I wouldn’t be able to fool him, though.

“Why were you studying your reflection?” he asked.

“No reason.”

He gave a little snort of disbelief. Then he proceeded to knock his forehead against my shoulder repeatedly—the insistent badgering reminding me so much of something Moth would do that I couldn’t help but let out a quiet laugh. Likely what he’d been going for.

I eventually gave into his prodding—beforehe decided to bite my shoulder the way a certain little griffin would have.

“It’s just…I feel like I’m somebody different every day as of late,” I said. “Every time I look in a mirror, I’m bracing myself, afraid of what I’ll see. When does it end? When do I recognize the person staring back? And who will I be after this meeting with my sister tomorrow?”

He was quiet for a long time.

---