Page 92 of Heir of Shadows

His lips traveled lower, mapping my body with kisses and teasing bites. When he reached the waistband of my pajama pants, he paused, his eyes meeting mine. Seeking permission. Waiting for the inevitable surrender.

“Yes,” I whispered, barely able to form words.

With a slow, practiced ease, he stripped away the last barriers between us. He stepped back, devouring me with his gaze, his eyes flickering with heat and something deeper.

“Mari,” he murmured, almost reverently. “More gorgeous than any illusion I could ever create.”

He stepped closer, sliding his fingers along the soft skin of my inner thighs. Heat pooled at my core—a mixture of longing and urgency.

His fingers danced teasingly close to where I craved him most, but he took his time, relishing the way my breath quickened and my body responded to his every caress. I could hardly contain myself, biting my lip to suppress the desperate sounds threatening to escape.

“Fascinating,” he murmured, watching the way my breath hitched. “Every time I touch you here… you tremble. Like you need this.”

He chuckled softly, a low rumble that vibrated against me as he finally allowed his fingers to glide upward, sliding into my folds.

“Mari,” he breathed again, as if overwhelmed by the sight and feel of me.

He stroked my folds softly, circling my clit, while his eyes watched my reactions. He didn’t rush, didn’t overwhelm—he studied me, watched me, learned every sound, every tremble, every gasp.

Then he plunged a finger inside, then two. I moaned aloud, gripping his shoulders and pulling him closer, my legs trembling. The world around us faded into a hazy blur, the only thing that mattered was the intoxicating connection between us.

“So wet for me,” he murmured, almost to himself. “Good girl.” His fingers dipped inside me, and pulled out, his thumb patiently stimulating my clit with gentle touches.

“Elio,” I gasped. My eyes were on him, on this beautiful man who knew exactly how to please me. My nails dug into the fabric of the couch as pleasure coiled tight inside me.

“You’re exquisite like this,” he whispered as he pushed me toward the edge. Then his fingers slowed, patiently drawing out every bit of pleasure, before speeding up again. “Falling apart for me.”

I moaned, losing myself to the sensations. I couldn’t think, I couldn’t speak—the world collapsed down to him and his teasing touches.

Then he backed away, watching me. He leaned down and traced the prevention rune on my lower stomach with a finger still wet from my juices.

“Do you know what this means?” he asked.

I nodded.

“Good,” he said. “Then let me ruin you properly.”

He draped me over the arm of the couch, my chest pressed against the worn fabric, my back arching as he positioned me exactly how he wanted. His hands trailed down my spine, slow and deliberate, teasing every nerve ending along the way.

“Perfect,” he murmured, his voice thick with approval. “So beautiful like this… pliant, waiting.”

“Elio,” I gasped, wriggling, trying to turn my head to look at him, but he pressed a hand to the center of my back, keeping me exactly where he wanted me.

“Ah, ah,” he chided, amusement laced with something darker. “No peeking, darling. Just feel.”

His fingers skimmed over my hips, then down to the soft skin of my inner thighs, brushing against where I ached for him but never quite giving me what I needed. His touch was maddening—feather-light, infuriatingly slow.

“Elio,” I groaned, shifting my hips, seeking more.

“Yes?” His thumb circled my clit, light enough to make me tremble but not enough to satisfy. “Tell me what you need.”

“You,” I gasped, my fingers clenching against the couch as frustration built inside me.

He chuckled, warm and low, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to the small of my back. “Then you shall have me.”

His fingers left me, the sudden absence making me whimper, but then I heard the unmistakable sound of metal clinking—his belt, his zipper. The air thrummed with anticipation, with the quiet hum of magic and heat between us.

“Are you ready?” His voice was rough, unsteady in a way that sent a thrill through me.

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