Page 64 of Craving His Venom

He nods, tail coiling up my leg, a gentle pressure that sets my heart racing. “Let’s go,” he breathes. “I’ll carry you if you tire.”

I allow him to guide me from the clearing, the serpent tree’s ancient presence at our backs. The sky overhead glows with the approaching afternoon. In the distance, I catch glimpses of Talli and Crick tidying the remains of the ceremony, Sahrine standing near them in quiet reflection. My chest glows with gratitude—these allies stood by us through every storm.

We reach the manor’s interior, meandering through a corridor that once felt oppressive. Now it breathes with possibility. The walls are still partially covered in vines, but patches of fresh paint hint at attempts to reclaim it. We ascend a short flight of stairs, stepping into what used to be the master chamber. The room is mostly empty except for a large beddraped with newly washed linens. Air flows through an open window, carrying the scent of the jungle’s blossoms.

He closes the door behind us, turning to me with eyes ablaze. “Sit,” he orders softly, tail flicking. “Let me help.”

My heart flutters at his protective note. “Yes, warlord,” I tease. Then I correct myself with a smile, “I mean, Vahziryn.”

He grunts in mock reproach, a faint smirk twisting his lips. “Mock me all you wish, but I see you’re exhausted.” He leads me to the bed, supporting my elbow. I sink onto the edge, tailing a breath of relief. My legs feel heavier, burdened by pregnancy and the emotional whirlwind of the ceremony.

He kneels before me, slitted gold eyes scanning my face. “You truly want this? A life in the jungle, forging new traditions?” A spark of uncertainty edges his tone.

I rest my palms on his broad shoulders, nails skimming the subtle ridges of black scales. “I do,” I say, voice unwavering. “We might face new trials, but we’ll face them together.”

He exhales, tension melting. Then his tail glides up my calf, a slow, sinuous motion that ignites a thrumming desire in my core. Sparks flicker in the hush, reminiscent of how we first bridged the chasm between us. My breath falters, recalling the nights of forbidden closeness, how we overcame taboo.

He rises, pulling me to my feet again, though I remain pressed to the bed’s edge. The heat of his chest radiates, each scale distinct against my simpler garments. My belly bumps him lightly. He presses a reverent kiss to my temple, voice husky. “I want to celebrate this union with you,” he murmurs. “But I’ll be gentle. I know how carefully we must mind the baby.”

My cheeks warm. “I trust you,” I whisper. “Always.”

His eyes flick down, capturing my mouth in a sudden, tender kiss. I melt into him, parting my lips with a soft sigh. The tension from the ceremony, from our entire struggle, channels into this moment, winding through every brush of scale and skin. He liftsa hand to cradle the back of my head, tangling his fingers in my hair. My pulse surges.

I angle my face, deepening the kiss. His tail curls around my legs, coaxing me onto the bed. I recline carefully, mindful of my swollen belly, letting him hover above me. The mattress dips under his weight. Our mouths remain joined, an electric current dancing along my spine. My body responds with a fierce ache that belies the months of stress. Now we can be free, truly, to love without fear.

He breaks the kiss, leaning back to study me. My hair drapes the pillows, cheeks flushed. “You’re radiant,” he murmurs, voice catching on emotion. “Carrying our child only makes you more stunning.”

A wave of warmth floods me. I recall how, in the nest’s eyes, our union was monstrous. But here, in the privacy of what once was his domain, the child’s presence is a bond we both treasure. I raise my arms, inviting him closer. “Join me, Vahziryn.”

He exhales, shrugging off the simple robe. Black scales shimmer across his torso, trailing down to the powerful coil of his tail. My breath hitches at the sight, remembering all the times I marveled at his form, and how each union overcame my initial fear. He leans in, covering my body with his, though carefully propping himself on his forearms so as not to crush me or the child.

His lips travel down my throat, placing featherlight kisses that send tremors of pleasure along my nerves. I moan softly, arching, pressing my belly to him. The child shifts, a faint reminder that we’re three now. He goes still, as if feeling the movement. His eyes brim with awe, tail brushing my side in a gentle caress.

Then his mouth resumes its slow descent, exploring the curve of my collarbone, the swell of my breasts. I tremble, letting my tunic slip away so he can access my skin unimpeded. Eachbrush of his scales, each stroke of his claws, ignites me further. The bond that we sealed in the capital thrums in my veins like a second heartbeat, forging a sense of unity that transcends simple passion.

He kisses lower, across the gentle roundness of my belly, murmuring words of reverence in the naga tongue. I grasp fragments: “precious,” “mine,” “eternal.” Tears threaten at the tenderness in his voice. Then, softly, he climbs higher, meeting my gaze. “Let me bring you pleasure,” he says, voice nearly trembling. “No fear, no council’s shadow.”

I smile through tears, drawing him closer. “No fear,” I echo, hooking a leg around his tail. Carefully, he aligns his hips to mine, the familiar shape of his double shafts pressed against my thigh. My breath stutters, heart pounding. Even though we’ve done this before, each time is a new hush of wonder.

He moves against me, tail coiling beneath my hips to elevate them slightly. I exhale in measured calm, trusting him to pace this. He penetrates slowly, letting me adjust. My moan emerges ragged, the barbs an intense friction that’s simultaneously thrilling and delicate. We find our rhythm, a careful melding that ensures I feel no pain, only the deep hum of pleasure.

Heat blooms in my core. I cling to his scales, nails raking gently. He surges deeper, each stroke sending sparks along my limbs. The lounge groans as we shift, locked in a dance that defies the stifling rules once forced upon us. My heart swells with gratitude that this is ours, unburdened by condemnation.

His breath comes in husky gasps, eyes half-lidded with desire. He angles to slip the second length alongside the first, a move we’ve perfected through trial and trust. I gasp, tensing momentarily. Then I exhale, letting him guide me to new heights. A moan rips from my throat, the barbs deliciously rubbing inside me. The swirl of sensations robs rational thought.

Our bodies move in unison, hips rolling, tail tightening at intervals to hold me in place. I stroke his scaled shoulders, murmuring his name in broken whispers. The child’s presence remains in my awareness, but it doesn’t hinder the pleasure. He’s so gentle, minding every shift of my body to avoid strain. Tears blur my vision at the depth of his care.

He thrusts again, deeper, sending a jolt of ecstasy through me. My moans blend with his low groans, forming a private harmony under the aged rafters. My release builds swiftly, months of fear melting in the pure joy of this moment. My nails bite his scales, and I cry out, arching as the climax overtakes me. The power of it blinds me to everything else—only his voice, his tail, his warmth matter.

He surges, barbs locking us together in that final thrust, flooding me with his essence. A guttural exhalation tears from his lips, and I feel his entire frame shudder. Then we collapse, bodies trembling in afterglow. My lungs heave, sweat cooling on my skin. He eases out, mindful of the barbs, ensuring I feel no sudden pain. A faint ache remains, but overshadowed by relief and love.

A hush envelops us. He cradles me in his arms, tail forming a protective coil around my legs. My belly rests between us, and he presses a reverent kiss to it. My heart aches with tenderness. Lying there, the beams of the late afternoon sun filtering through the dusty window, I realize how far we’ve come. We faced death, condemnation, venom, and heartbreak. Yet here we are, forging a union without fear.

He rubs my lower back, voice a hushed rumble. “I love you, Mira,” he says, each word laden with sincerity. “You gave me hope in a world I thought was only cruelty.”

I press my forehead to his, tears gathering. “I love you,” I whisper back. “And our child. I can’t wait to see what we build next.”

He nods, tail brushing a gentle path up my calf. “Whatever it is, we’ll shape it together.”

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