Page 64 of Crown of Ashes and Desire

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he rasped, and he grabbed both of my breasts, squeezing them tightly, then his tongue licked my chest while I struggled to move.

He licked my right nipple, teasing the other with his thumb. I arched my head backward, moaning loudly. This felt so good and so right, even if my mind repelled. Damn it, I was throbbing, ready for anything, his energy stuck to me as if it was a second skin. Years back he was always slow, greedy, but now I was seeing another side of him. His mouth sucked on my nipple, then he pinched the other one, and my knees nearly buckled under me.

“Make me come, fuck me.” I felt my arousal dripping down between my thighs.

He lifted his head and grabbed my jaw, his eyes filled with madness, but then he smiled.

“Since you’re so eager.” He kneeled before me.

With deliberate slowness, he pushed my dress up to my waist, exposing me to the night air, and I shuddered, wanting to yank him closer. Above us, dark clouds gathered with unnatural speed, swirling in perfect sync with his shadows and my light while they connected. The air was tense with electricity, the hair at the back of my neck standing up. I should have felt vulnerable, afraid. Instead, treacherous heat pooled low in my belly, desire coiling tight.

Our combined magic was destabilizing the local atmosphere—shadow and light in violent harmony creating pressure systems that shouldn't exist. Lightning cracked overhead, not natural weather but raw magical energy seeking release.

I remembered reading about this phenomenon in my father's private archives—when shadow and light magic merged during moments of extreme emotion, the resulting twilight energy could affect weather patterns within a mile radius. The effect was temporary but dangerous; unchecked, it could create magical storms that lasted for days. We needed to separate or learn to control the surge together.

“Hakan—”

“Quiet,” he commanded, hands sliding up my inner thighs, his thumb moving through the center of my damp panties.

I let out another desperate moan. He could make me go mad again, purely by inflicting the tortures, hesitating to take this further.

“You hide something from me, Ada. Something important.” His thumbs brushed dangerously close again to my clit. “Something you protect behind barriers even I can’t penetrate.”

Before I could respond, he lowered his head between my thighs and inhaled deeply. He caused my light to vibrate somuch that I nearly came there. I moaned loudly, needing the release, praying for it. The first touch of his tongue nearly undid me—cold and heat, pleasure so intense it bordered on pain. I arched against the bonds, unable to hold back a cry of shocked pleasure. It was too bad my hands were bound, because I would have forced him to feast on me or even worse. I was drenched when he licked me slowly, groaning and using his shadow to enhance the pleasure.

“Your scent drives me fucking crazy, but your light flickers strangely,” he observed.

He pulled back just as I approached release, then I screamed, tears forced their way to my eyes. What the fuck was he doing to me? I didn’t think I could bear it much longer.

“Make me come, I’m so close…so close please,” I pleaded, desperate for him to continue and ignoring his statement about my light. He could probably see glimpses from the past.

“You make me so hard when you beg.” He eased two fingers inside me and groaned when he discovered I was soaked.

I was ready to let go of my bond, let him see the past if he didn’t let me climax.

“Tell me who else you’ve been with,” he said. “Who touched what was mine.”

“No one,” I shouted, the truth torn from me by need. I was throbbing, so desperate and needy. “There’s been no one else.”

His eyes darkened with something beyond desire, when he started to fuck me, using his other hand to mold my clit, pressing hard and then easing off. I panted for air, ready for orgasm. The thunder shattered above us, and I screamed for more.

“Five years, and no one touched you?”

He resumed his exquisite torture, bringing me to the edge again and again. Tears were dripping down my cheeks, he was breaking me again. I didn’t think I could stay lucid to see this through.

“Why?”

“Please, please Hakan…you know why,” I bit out, then cried in frustration when he pulled away once more.

“Tell me what damaged your light,” he demanded, his voice rough, his movement rough. “I sense fractures, places where it’s been broken and mended.”

Through our bond, I felt him probing—searching for the source of the damage. I was ready to give up, ready for him to see everything, the broken Ada. Unbidden, fragments of memory seeped through: flashes of white walls, of restraints, of my light flickering dangerously low while healers watched in concern.

I felt him flinch as the images reached him, his shadows rippling with what might have been shock. “What the fuck is this?” he asked, voice suddenly uncertain. “What happened to you?”

“Hakan, stop talking, stop with these questions. I need you inside me. Now!” I cried out. I was unwilling to reveal the full extent of my collapse. “Some time after I left you, my mind shattered to pieces.”

“How long?” He demanded, fingers still tormenting me with precise, maddening thrusts of his fingers.

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