Page 62 of Shattered & Returned

A jet of jealousy surged through me, sharp enough that I nearly twisted around to knee him in the balls, but I stayed rooted in place, leaving only my glare to carry my fury. The single mercy sparing him was this: whoever came before me belonged to a past I had no claim over.

He pushed my cloak and nightgown up to my waist. My fists clenched the fabric, preventing him from exposing thescars higher up. Cold air kissed my bared skin, then his mouth replaced it, searing where no one else had touched me.

When his mouth left me, he rose behind me to his full height. His palm pressed between my shoulder blades, pinning me in place. His other hand held the heavy length of his cock. I stopped breathing as I felt the crown of his cock, hard and burning, nudging at my entrance.

He didn’t thrust in right away. He rubbed the head hard along the plumpness of my lips just to tease, making me shiver, making me wiggle my ass in silent begging. Then he glided in only an inch, slow and purposeful.

The intrusion burned sweetly, not deep enough to tear, but enough to send shockwaves of pleasure rippling through every nerve. I bit my lip until I tasted the salty tang of blood, torn between pushing away and begging for more.

He withdrew half an inch, then thrust back in about two inches.

The sensation was overwhelming. My lust burned hotter. I needed more, achedfor it, but his controlled movements suggested a purpose beyond mere physical gratification.

When I glanced back, his gaze locked onto mine. Dark, primal need smoldered in his eyes, his features taut with the strain of holding back.

“Give me more,”I begged, pressing against him.“Please.”My hips rolled instinctively, ready to push back and take at least half of him, to feel that exquisite stretch, even if he wouldn’t give me everything.

Virginity be damned. I’d crossed too many lines to turn back now. If death came at twenty, I wouldn’t meet it untouched, not when pleasure coiled hot in my veins, scattering reason like autumn leaves before a storm.

“Not today, baby,” he said as he thrust in me, slow at first, then fast and hard, though not beyond two inches deep. “Whenyou’re ready, I’ll give you everything. Then you’ll truly know pleasure and pain. And you’ll forever be addicted to my cock.”

Even this shallow penetration, this delicious friction, was maddening.

He groaned raggedly behind me. “It kills me not to fuck you properly, not to fill you completely.” He clenched his teeth. “But today, this is all you get. I’ll ruin you for anyone else soon enough.”

He thrust faster but never crossed that two-inch boundary. If just this much had me teetering on the edge, what would his full length do to me?

My skin began to tingle. Heat radiated in me. Then I felt it—power stirring deep in my core.

“Let it rise, little flower,” Nero commanded, his thrusts becoming more deliberate. “Don’t fight it.”

My fingers dug into the furs as the world dissolved into streaks of color. I cried out, pain and pleasure colliding in a blinding burst. Nero fucked me harder, energy crackling beneath my skin and sparking through my veins.

“Come for me!” he commanded, driving me toward oblivion. His fingers pinched my quivering button. “Come on my cock, baby!”

Pleasure crested in relentless waves. I erupted on his cock. And then I was falling, coming apart with a cry. Nero caught me, his arms my only tether as the world shattered into brilliance.

Reality fractured. Light burst from me like a song, arcing from my fingertips. The air around us shimmered with prismatic energy. Fallen leaves, twigs, even droplets of dew rose and twirled. Wind, water, fire, earth—all the elements answered my climax.

Threads of raw energy wove themselves into ancient symbols, oddly familiar though I’d never learned them.

This wasn’t just pleasure.

This was revelation.

The magic didn’t tear through me; it uncoiled like a sigh after centuries of waiting. As if a deep part of me had always known this forever song, and my body was just now remembering how to sing it.

For those fleeting, precious moments, I wasn’t just Bloom, the frightened student investigating murders. I was primordial. A force woven into the fabric of creation itself.

More than an immortal.

Was it a delusion of grandeur as I was caught in the moment? But it tasted like truth.

“What’s this?” I whispered in awe.

Nero stayed sheathed inside me, his body taut as a drawn bow against my back. His arm locked around my waist like a man clinging to a crumbling cliffside.

“You’re more than a Weaver.”His words brushed my ear.“Sexual energy unlocks what’s buried in you. Until one day you’re powerful enough.”

---