Page 153 of Severed Heir

His voice came soft, barely above the hum of water against stone. “I want to. Seeing you in pain... it kills me. I can’t protect you like I used to.”

“I’ll be your desire, Archer.”

He froze.

His eyes slipped shut, and for a long moment he didn’t speak. When he did, it was with a rawness that struck deeper than any wound.

“I don’t want to desire you,” he said, finally meeting my gaze. “I want you.”

I leaned back against the stone wall, my breath caught somewhere between surrender and need. My thighs parted, an unspoken invitation in every trembling line of my body.

“Then want me,” I whispered. “Just once more.”

He lifted me gently from the shower and laid me on the bed with careful hands, avoiding the dark bruises blooming along my ribs. His fingers traced the curves of my hips, his lips following in their wake. I bit down against a gasp, the ache already blooming.

“Archer, I need you. I need more.”

He lifted my knees, easing my thighs apart, and stilled as he looked at me. His voice was low, almost a question. “This might feel different without the shadows.”

“I don’t care,” I whispered, meeting his gaze. “I only want you.”

He was slow. He slipped two fingers between my folds, then leaned back as he tasted me, sucking each finger clean. “Oh, Severyn. If only you weren’t in pain.”

“Then pretend I’m not in pain.”

His mouth answered for him, moving over me, slow and steady, every touch deliberate, every kiss a promise as he savoured each breast and hardened nipple. His fingers went back to thrusting, slowly before that ache rose deep and the walls of my core tightened and convulsed around his index finger.

I reached for his belt and pulled his pants past his thighs. Then my lips were on his chest, lowering, licking my way down the hard dips and grooves of his stomach until I found his cock and placed both hands around it.

“This night is supposed to be about you,” he said softly, but the strain in his cock beneath my grasp told me everything. He wanted this, just as much as I did.

I took him into my mouth, slowly, my tongue tracing along his length as I eased lower. Within moments, he was leaning back on his hands, a low groan slipping past his lips.

“You’re going to make me come if you keep that up,” he murmured.

“And that’s a bad thing?” I breathed.

“Yes,” he murmured, voice low with restraint. “Because I want to be inside you when I do.”

I fell back on the narrow cot, thighs parting instinctively as Archer moved over me. His hand came to rest lightly on my neck, his other guiding himself between my legs. He pushed forward, slow and deliberate, until the first few inches filled me, and I had to bite back a groan. It had been weeks since I’d felt this full, this claimed.

With two deep thrusts, he was buried. His gaze met mine, and in it I saw no hesitation, only pure, primal need.

He lifted my face and kissed me, stealing what breath I had left. A gasp caught in my throat as pain and pleasure blurred together, tipping me toward something deeper, something raw.

“Archer,” I whispered.

He moved with me, steady and sure, every thrust matching my rhythm. Then he lifted me onto his thighs. “Ride it out,” he said, voice gravel-thick. “You feel so damn good.”

Each stroke sent my thoughts spinning, until my legs wrapped around his waist of their own accord. He caught me easily, lifting me flush against his chest.

“I can’t hold it,” I gasped.

“Then don’t,” he whispered against my neck. “Give me everything.”

He shifted, just enough to press his fingers against my clit, circling with the perfect pressure, and that was all it took. I shattered against him, body arching, breath broken, everything unraveling into light and ash.

I clung to him as the wave took me, burying my face in the crook of his neck while we came undone together.

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