Page 12 of City of Secrets and Shadows
“And I’ll say it again.” He shifted slightly, easing his weight off me without withdrawing. The movement sent aftershocks of pleasure through my oversensitive body, making me gasp. “Still so responsive,” he observed, satisfaction evident in his tone. The connection between us remained unbroken, his cock still buried deep inside me, gradually softening but in no hurry to withdraw. I savoured the fullness, the slight ache that would remind me of him with every movement tomorrow.
Another flash of crimson lightning illuminated his face — the dangerous curve of his smile, the possessive gleam in his eyes. In that brief moment of clarity, I saw something in his expression that made my chest ache with an emotion I wasn’t ready to name.
“We should separate,” I said reluctantly, even as my body clenched around him, contradicting my words. “Before he wakes.”
“I guess we should.”
He rolled his hips slightly, sending a shock of pleasure through my oversensitive body.
“Bastard,” I gasped, even as my inner muscles clenched around him.
“One day, I’m going to fuck you like that in front of him,” Tarshi said. “That’s a promise.”
His words sent a forbidden thrill through me, even as I shook my head. “You’ll do no such thing.”
“No?” Tarshi withdrew from me with excruciating slowness, the drag of his still-hard cock against my sensitive walls making me bite my lip to stifle a moan. “The way you tightened around me just now suggests otherwise.”
When he finally slipped free, I felt achingly empty, my body still pulsing from his thorough claiming. A warm trickle of his seed ran down my inner thigh, marking me as his in the most primal way.
“You’re impossible,” I whispered, but couldn’t keep the fondness from my voice.
He chuckled, the sound a low rumble in the darkness. “Impossibly yours.”
Tarshi reached down between us, his large hand gentle as he wiped away the evidence of our joining with a scrap of cloth. The tender care with which he cleaned me contrasted sharply with the savagery of moments before.
“Sleep now,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “Dawn comes too soon, and you need rest.”
I was going to argue, but exhaustion swept over me, and I felt my eyes closing before he’d even moved away.
4
Ihated flying. Hated the lurching sensation in my gut when the dragon dipped suddenly, hated the thin air that made my lungs burn, hated the way the ground looked impossibly distant below us. Most of all, I hated clinging to Tarshi’s waist like some terrified child, my arms wrapped around him simply because there was nowhere else to hold.
The storm had finally passed, leaving the desert sky painfully bright and clear. Livia sat at the front, her back straight, hair whipping behind her in the wind. She looked like she belonged there, as though she’d been born to ride dragons instead of fighting them in the arena. I couldn’t take my eyes off her.
“Still with us back there?” Tarshi called over his shoulder, his voice nearly lost in the rush of wind.
I grunted in response, refusing to give him the satisfaction of hearing the fear in my voice. Three days we’d been flying, and it hadn’t gotten any easier. Days of this torture, of pressing myself against a half-breed I didn’t trust, all for her. All for Livia.
She hadn’t spoken much to me since that night in the town, when I’d tried to rid us of Tarshi once and for all. I still didn’tunderstand why she’d brought him along. Was it pity? The same impulse that had made her free the dragon instead of killing it?
The mongrel shifted position, adjusting his grip on the dragon’s scales, and I couldn’t help but notice his movement. To keep a strong hold, I had to sit close to him, my body pressed against his back. I hated every moment of it, but I would endure anything to stay with Livia, and she’d made it very clear she wasn’t leaving him behind, whether he deserved it or not.
She hadn’t left me either, and I’d definitely deserved to have been left behind after the way I’d treated her that night in my room. I tried not to think about it; the feel of her body pressed against mine, the glimpse between her legs before she’d brought me back to my senses. The memory filled me with shame, but also the overpowering desire I’d felt, still felt. The memory stirred something in me, heat pooling low in my belly despite the fear of flight. The dragon banked sharply, and I tightened my grip on Tarshi instinctively. He was solid muscle beneath my arms, his body radiating heat even in the chill of high altitude. I hated how strong he felt, how capable. How easily he’d bested me in our fight despite my best efforts to kill him. I shifted uncomfortably, suddenly aware of how tightly I was pressed against Tarshi’s back. Close enough that he couldn’t possibly miss the effect my thoughts of Livia had produced, pressed as I was against him.
He turned, looking over his shoulder at me, his eyes widening slightly in recognition, then narrowed with something that might have been amusement.
“Enjoying the ride after all?” he asked, voice low enough that Livia couldn’t hear over the wind.
Heat rushed to my face — humiliation and rage in equal measure. I shoved away from him as much as I dared at this height. “Fuck you,” I hissed.
He merely raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth.
I considered shoving him off the dragon entirely, weighing the satisfaction against my own likely death. Instead, I clung to him as the dragon began to descend, every muscle in my body rigid with hate and embarrassment and something else I refused to name. Before I could decide, Livia’s voice cut through the wind.
“There it is! The Imperial City!”
Despite my hatred for the creature in front of me, I leaned around him to look. Even from this distance, Imperialis was magnificent. The city sprawled across the valley floor, a vast expanse of white marble and red tile roofs gleaming in the afternoon sun. The great river Timar wound through its heart like a silver snake, crossed by a dozen stone bridges. At the city’s centre, perched atop the highest of the seven hills, stood the Imperial Palace, its golden dome catching the light like a second sun. Aqueducts stretched like stone tentacles from the city walls, reaching toward distant mountains.
