Page 67 of Scorched By Fate

His kisses skimmed my collarbone, teeth grazing in a way that made me arch into him. Electricity fizzed along my nerves. I reached for the fastenings of his leathers, fumbling them loose, while he slid his hand down my side, claws pricking gently in warning. That tiny sting had my pulse kicking even faster.

Once his chest straps dropped away, I paused to stare. The crystals in the room cast him in half-shadows, revealing lines of muscle and scale, plus faint silver scars from old battles. I’d never get used to how gorgeous he was in his brutal, inhuman way.

Now I had all the time in the world to stare. No Ignarath warriors were chasing us down. The healers had the vyrathis they needed to heal.

And Vyne was my mate.

I was still getting used to that.

Vyne shifted closer, pressing me into the welcoming softness of the silks. He trailed kisses over my stomach, hungry but unhurried. I gasped when he finally moved between my thighs. His breath sent tingles through my hypersensitive skin.

Then that tongue of his, longer and rougher than any human’s, flicked against me. He traced the length of my slit, flicking and teasing in a way that sent electric jolts through me. Each pass of that rough tongue felt shockingly vivid, as if he had tapped directly into my nerve endings. He lapped at me like he was savoring the finest honey, slow and sensuous.

I trembled beneath him, skin flushed and hypersensitive. When he found my clit and zeroed in on it, I nearly screamed. He circled the sensitive nub with the tip of his tongue, just barely grazing it, until I was shuddering and writhing helplessly against the slab. His wings enveloped us like a cocoon of heat and anticipation.

Just as he had my climax coiled tight, ready to spring, he abruptly withdrew. I made a strangled noise of protest, hips bucking uselessly. Vyne chuckled low and sultry, the sound reverberating through me.

"You want more,Zhyvarin?" he purred, eyes glinting wickedly in the firelight.

I could only moan in response, utterly at his mercy. The knowledge only seemed to fuel his desire.

I tried to stifle a cry. No chance. It tore out anyway, echoing off the stone walls. He made a satisfied sound deep in his chest, the vibration nearly pushing me over the edge. My fingers clamped around his shoulders, nails scraping at his scales. Each pass of that wicked tongue felt shockingly vivid, until I was right at the point of toppling into oblivion.

But he pulled back before I finished. My outraged whimper must’ve amused him, because he had a half-smile on his lipswhen he crawled back up my body. That look disappeared into another kiss, scorching and immediate. I could feel the press of his cock—heavy and alien, with that odd, flared lip at the tip—stretching me in ways that made my vision haze.

He hesitated, just for a heartbeat, long enough for me to see the question in his eyes. I answered by rocking my hips, urging him. A growl rumbled through his chest. That single sound turned every nerve in my body to liquid fire.

Then he drove into me, slow at first, letting me adjust. My head fell back, a ragged moan bursting from somewhere deep in my chest. He felt impossibly big, stretching me wide, filling me completely. A strange tension unwound inside me as his thick length slid into my wet heat. It was like part of me had been waiting forever to slot into place with him, a perfect fit.

He buried himself fully with a trembling groan, chest heaving and muscles rippling beneath my fingers. "Selene," he grated out, voice raw with need and emotion.

"Vyne." My fingers found the wiry ridges at his nape, hooking there as I lifted my hips in response. He bit back a curse, pinning me down with strong hands, his grip both possessive and worshipful. My body shivered, and tingles spread along my skin from his touch.

That was all the warning I got before he started moving, a heated rhythm that built and built inside me. His hips rocked and bucked, driving into my core with firm, purposeful strokes. The slick sounds of our joining and our mingled pants and groans filled the air.

With each pass of his hard length, the tension inside me gathered and pulled taut, a coiling spring of building pleasure. I could feel myself growing hotter and wetter around him, my slick walls clenching and fluttering. My sex throbbed, a tight, focused ache that demanded to be filled and scratched.

He pounded into me, each powerful thrust jostling my body, rocking me with his force. That full, stretched feeling of his cock stroking deep grew sharper, more insistent. The drag of him across my senses was deliciously, exquisitely overwhelming. I wanted to be consumed and digested by the consuming pleasure until nothing remained but the infinite, inescapable finish of him.

I fisted a handful of silk, crying out. My climax rolled through me in dizzying waves. I barely came down before he pounded forward one last time, letting out a ragged cry that shook my bones. His wings flared wide, tail lashing against the stone. The sudden burst of warmth deep inside me made my body clamp around him all over again, a final spasm of shared passion.

It took awhile, but we unfurled from that state of frantic bliss, panting like we’d run a marathon. The heat of the room folded in around us, but for once, it didn’t feel stifling. Our bodies stuck together with sweat, but I was in no rush to pull away.

His weight pressed into me for a minute, heavy and protective. Then, carefully, he slipped free, leaving my limbs quivering. My face felt hot, but my heart felt strangely light.

He settled at my side, half propped up on an elbow. I laughed under my breath. “I can’t feel my legs,” I murmured.

"Good,” he was all male satisfaction. He reached down, dragging the silks over us, and the subtle thoughtfulness made my chest tighten in a whole different way. A girl could get used to this.

For a while, we lay there, listening to each other breathe. His tail drifted over my leg in a lazy caress.

My gaze landed on Vyne’s face. He was watching me with this intensity that could have been intimidating if I didn’t know him so well. I traced a faint scar along his collarbone. “I love you, you know,” I blurted.

He stilled. For a split second, I wondered if I’d gone too far. Shit. This whole mating thing was too new, too unexpected. Emotions were running high. Endorphins were screwing with my head. I could make a dozen excuses, and none of them would be true.

Then his eyes softened. “I … I love you too,Zhyvarin,” he said, so quiet I barely heard it, a secret encapsulated by the rock walls around us.

My throat squeezed. It felt like I’d spent years stumbling through chaos, only to finally land there, wrapped in this Drakarn’s arms. My earlier guilt poked at me—there were still so many people outside this room who needed help. But I couldn’t argue that this moment was essential, too.

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