Page 94 of A Legacy of Poison and Lies

Her attention was fixed on his mouth as she said, “I think I might, yes.”

“Smart ass.”

Zylah tugged off her nightdress, throwing the silk to the floor but he didn’t remove his towel. He knelt before her, a ravenous look in his eyes as he drank her in, one hand sliding underneath a thigh, the other wrapping around the ends of her hair again, easing her head back until she was completely exposed before him, her skin pebbling with anticipation.

Zylah knew what she felt for him went beyond wanting to feel him, needing to touch him. Beyond raw desire. Had known it for a long time now, but instead of dwelling on it, she let herself get lost in the moment, in the feel of Holt’s demanding and possessive touch.

He took his time trailing kisses from her mouth down every inch of her body, arching her back further and further until he reached her navel, releasing her hair only to hook his hand under her knee and yank her closer to him, his breath hot against the apex of her thighs where a liquid heat had settled.

“You’re beautiful, Zylah. So damned perfect,” he said as his eyes met hers.

Zylah sucked in a too-thin breath, her hips tilting towards him, but he placed a broad hand flat across her stomach to hold her steady. He hummed in satisfaction as he pressed his mouth to her sensitive flesh, every nerve in her body coming alive at the feel of him between her legs, and the last of her thoughts eddied away from her.

At the first stroke of his tongue, Zylah called out, her fingers knotting into his hair as his thumb moved in circles against her and he devoured her with his mouth. Zylah almost bucked off the bed, but Holt held her firm as he pushed two fingers inside her to move in time with his thumb, her body coiling tighter and tighter around him. Her hips arched against him as the tension built and built, her skin too tight against her bones and her limbs stiffening until she shattered against him, her vision hazing as his tongue and his fingers wrung out every last inch of her pleasure.

Holt didn’t pull away until she stopped shaking, tracing kisses against her thighs before he stood before her, eyes roving over her reverently, drinking her in.

Zylah swallowed as she saw he’d at last removed his towel, her mouth going dry at the size of him as he fisted himself once, twice. He looked down at her on the bed, but she didn’t back away from the intensity of his gaze. She let herself enjoy the sight of him standing over her, her eyes trailing over the cut of his stomach muscles to the thick vee between his hip bones, to the way his hand wrapped around his shaft as he watched her, her body aching to feel him. There were things that needed to be said, but this moment between them felt like a language all in itself. She needed it, but so did he.

Zylah reached for him, but he caught her wrists again, his mouth crashing against hers as he positioned himself over her, his other hand wrapped tightly around one of her thighs and the tip of him brushing against her entrance. Zylah moved her hips, a quiet whimper escaping her in a begging plea.

“So impatient,” Holt murmured against her mouth, his lips twitching as he held back a smile.

He held her in place, his grip firm and his eyes fixed on hers as he eased into her slowly, a hiss of satisfaction leaving them both.

Nothing but raw desire and devotion etched his features as he filled her slowly, inch by inch, easing further until he was buried to the hilt, their bodies pressed flush against each other, and Zylah didn’t think she could take any more of him.

“Fuck, Zylah,” Holt breathed, a shudder of pleasure rippling through his body as she moaned, the way he filled her so entirely just dancing the line between pleasure and pain.

Her legs clamped around his waist and her fingernails dug into his shoulders as she bit down on her lip, adjusting to his size. His hand came down on the exposed skin of her throat, his hips moving slowly at first as he kissed the column of her neck just above where he held her possessively, as if he was claiming her, branding her.

Her body blazed with the heat of his skin, the feel of him moving inside her, sparks dancing along her flesh as he began to move faster, his hips building to a punishing rhythm, tension spiralling through her again, higher and higher, and Zylah lost herself to the feel of him.

At the first slip of her magic, the air stirred around them.

“Zylah.” A quiet warning in his tone, as if she’d hurt him again.

She pulled back on her power, tugging it back inside herself, an apology spilling from her lips, but Holt cut her off with a kiss, his hips slowing.

“Don’t,” he murmured against her mouth.

Zylah pushed against his chest, and without breaking them apart, he adjusted them both, lifting her into his lap, his feet planted on the floor and his hands firm around her rear. Zylah’s head fell back at the size of him, the way he filled her even more in this position. He stilled for a moment, but at the first rise of her hips, he lost himself to her again, his thrusts deep and fast and brutal.

He slid a hand between them, fingers working the knot of nerves at her core, her body throbbing with the feel of him, ecstasy taking over her body as he kissed her deeply. But Zylah’s magic started to slip just as she did, just as her pleasure threatened to consume her once more. Too afraid of hurting him, she coaxed the power back, raw pleasure snuffing out her momentary panic. Holt slammed into her again and her climax tore through her, her body shattering against him as he followed her over the edge.

His arms came around her waist, holding her tight against him as her shudders eased and she focused on the sound of their racing heartbeats and ragged breaths, her cheek resting over his heart.

Words tripped over themselves inside her thoughts, a confession she’d been holding onto for too long, but then Holt said, “I’d have waited. If it was what you wanted.”

“I know,” she whispered, tilting her head up to look at him.

“And I know Pallia told you few things in this life belong to us. But I am yours. And you are mine. And nothing, no one will ever convince me otherwise.”

“I know,” she whispered again, her throat painfully tight as she fought back the sting of tears.

Holt rested a hand against her face, his thumb stroking her cheek. His voice was rough and raw as he searched her eyes. “I’m in love with you, Zylah. And I have loved you for far longer than I had any right to.”

She answered him with a soft kiss, then pulled back to tug his hand over her heart. “It’s always been yours.” He rested his forehead against hers as if he were letting the words settle over him, but Zylah went on, “And I have been in love with you for far longer than I had any right to be, too. Since before you left Virian, and I…” She shook her head, a frown creasing her brow as she silently cursed herself for the mess she’d made of everything.

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