Page 176 of Ashes to Ashes

I can only whimper in response, my nails digging into his shoulders as he sets a rhythm designed to drive me insane. Eachstroke is deliberate, controlled, hitting that perfect spot inside me that makes stars explode behind my eyes.

“Please,” I sob, trying to urge him faster. “I need?—”

“I know what you need,” he growls, capturing my mouth in a kiss that tastes of possession and promise. “And I’m going to give it to you. But first, I want to feel you come apart. Slowly. Completely.”

His hand slides between us his thumb finding my clit. The dual sensation of him moving inside me and his fingers working that sensitive bundle of nerves makes me arch off the moss with a broken cry.

“That’s it,” he pants, maintaining that maddening pace while his thumb circles my clit. “Let me feel you clench around me when you come.”

The orgasm builds like wildfire, pressure coiling tighter and tighter until I shatter with a scream that echoes through the forest. My body clenches around him, and I feel him shudder with the effort of maintaining control.

“Fuck, the way you grip me when you come,” he groans, his rhythm faltering slightly. “So perfect.”

But he doesn’t stop. His mouth finds my throat, teeth scraping the sensitive skin while he continues those long, deep strokes that keep me balanced on the knife’s edge between pleasure and madness.

“Again,” he commands, his thumb never stopping its wicked circles. “I want to feel you come again.”

“I can’t,” I gasp, though my body is already building toward another peak. “Too much?—”

“You can,” he insists, lifting his head to meet my eyes. “You can take it. You can take everything I give you because you’re mine, and I know exactly what this beautiful body needs.”

When the second orgasm crashes over me, it’s even more intense than the first. My magic explodes outward in spirals ofblue-green light, thorns blooming across the moss around us as my power responds to the overwhelming pleasure.

“One more,” he pants, his control finally starting to crack. “Give me one more, and then I’ll fill you up. Mark you inside and out.”

His hand slides down to grip my hip, angling me so he can drive deeper. The new position makes me sob his name, pleasure so intense it borders on pain.

“Look at me,” he demands, his amber eyes blazing with possessive fire. “I want to see your face when you come apart for me one last time.”

This time when I shatter, he goes with me. His roar of completion mingles with my scream as he buries himself deep and pulses inside me, marking me as thoroughly as any claiming bite.

When we collapse together onto the soft moss afterward, bodies slick with sweat and magic, I feel completely claimed in the best possible way.

“Much better,” I murmur against his chest, tracing the magical marks that have appeared on his skin.

“The guardian oath,” he explains, voice soft with wonder. “It ensures my mate’s satisfaction above all else. Kind of hard-wired into the magic.”

“Convenient,” I laugh, pressing closer to his warmth.

“For you, maybe. Do you have any idea how many cold showers I’ve taken over the years, dreaming about this?”

I trace the new marks that have appeared on both our skin—not just my nail marks but actual magical symbols spiraling across his forearms. Where I scratched his shoulders, delicate thorn patterns pulse with soft light. My fingertips map each symbol, feeling magic humming beneath his skin.

“The transformation,” I murmur, touching the delicate tips of my ears that grew more pronounced during our joining. “It’s accelerating.”

“Because you’re accepting yourself,” he explains, pressing a kiss to my pointed ear. “Every moment of authentic choice breaks down more concealment. And this...” He gestures to our joined forms, the magical marks still glowing faintly on our skin. “Complete connection without suppression—the glamour can’t survive that level of truth.”

“Am I still changing?”

“Into who you’ve always been,” he confirms. “More yourself every day. Less of the buried version, more of the real one.”

I settle against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heart. For the first time since the trials began, I feel centered. Grounded. Real.

“Th—I appreciate you,” I whisper against his skin.

“For what?”

“For letting me choose. For making it feel like worship instead of possession. For wanting me even after seeing every dark truth.”

---