Page 16 of Blue Embers
Everything was going so fast I barely had a chance to breathe. No discussion. No hesitation. Still, I didn’t protest. Reaching back, I clutched the edge of the table behind my head and lost myself in the feeling of his thick shaft inching inside me. I was out of practice, that was for sure, but it only made everything more consuming. There was no foreplay. No skating around the idea. He took me like I was his.
I let out a breath on a moan as Killian seated himself deep, stretching me around his girth. His tongue slid lightly along my neck as he thrust, controlled and steady, but before long, his tempo became more demanding. I arched to take as much of him as I could, ravenous and elated. Mouth agape, I began to breathe heavily with pleasure, reveling in Killian’s perfected motions. Every time I felt the length of him delve deep, hitting my core, I sunk further from the reality that I didn’t want to face.
When I felt myself starting to get lost in that foggy place between truth and fantasy, I began to plummet. I squeezed the table’s edge above my head, my body sizzling with a euphoric charge. Killian stood up, grasping my hips and pulling me against him as he took on a more dramatic rhythm, forcing my body to respond to the wild pleasures that he was sparking along every nerve ending in me. I cried out as the sensations began to shatter and multiply, unable to contain myself when each hard thrust took my body to new heights. The table shifted, scraping against the marble floors as our bodies collided.
Dropping over me again, Killian’s hands fell over the tops of mine, his grip tight as we began to unravel. His heavy breaths heated the side of my neck where he kissed me again, exhaling into my ear on an aggressive groan as his teeth skated gently over it. That final touch sent me soaring. I felt my body tumbling out of control and falling into a sea of pleasure I had never experienced before. It was so spontaneous and unexpected. I had no way of predicting what it would feel like, but now I knew. It felt absolutely wonderful.Hefelt wonderful.
“Hang on,” Killian whispered into my ear.
There was hardly any hanging on. I was descending and I couldn’t help it. I bit my lip, trying to pull myself together as Killian’s hand slid between us. His fingers found their way to a place writhing with sensitivity. I barely knew what was happening before his touch filled me again with a whole new kind of pleasure. He stroked my clit, throwing layers of fulfillment into the mix that were starting to tear me apart in the best of ways. Everything collided into an explosion of sensations I could barely fathom. I was lost in it all. I was on a thread, dangling over a release that threatened to consume me wholey.
“Come for me,” Killian whispered, his lips brushing mine as he spoke, but not quite falling into a kiss.
Suddenly, on his word, my body shattered beneath him. I let out an uncontrollable cry as pleasures washed through my body like a title wave. My climax was dizzying and intense, like I was plunging from a great height but wasn’t stopping. Killian thrust a few more times, his fingers still touching me in a way that intensified everything tenfold. Feeling his own release tremble through his body only made everything more exciting.
When it had all finally dialed down, I felt myself shaking. I breathed with a shutter, in slight disbelief that someone could make me feel so good. I was confused at how well Killian played my body like an instrument he’d practiced on for a hundred years. I had never even succeeded in pleasuring myself like he’d just done. I was boneless beneath him now as he panted against my shoulder.
Finally, I released my grip on the table and let my body melt. My mind drifted off into a far off dimension where worries were distant mirages, still savoring the feeling of Killian seated inside me. His hands slid along my waist and down the length of my thighs and then back up the curves of my body, caressing every contour of my form and breathing me in with long, deep breaths.
I could sense citrus on him now as the vanilla faded away. He smelled of salty air and orange zest. It was a free, spirited scent that invigorated me as I took it in. I turned my face toward his hair, stealing as much of his aroma as I could before our little fling ended.
7
Killian
. . .
As much as I usually fell back on the ease of winning a woman over, knowing I’d just fucked the hell out of Persephone Grant had an oddly puzzling effect on me. It was intensely satisfying and heavens she was a unique specimen, but I’d expected to have to work harder to get her clothes off. The previous day, she was a challenge and one I would have happily pursued, but after the few moments I’d just shared with her, the challenge was something entirely different. One I was equally attracted to.
Persephone had left soon after the two of us had our very wild and spontaneous moment together on the table. She grabbed her belongings and gave me a very cold goodbye as she walked out the doors, that time without returning. Were I human, I would have taken offense to her quick dismissal, but I could tell by each beat of her pulse and every skip in her breath that I’d just pleased her beyond anything she’d ever felt before. That fact made her quite bashful. I smirked at the thought as I listened carefully for her car engine to start outside. She sat in the parking lot for a while before she drove off, leaving me in that large, hollow building alone wondering what the hell I thought fraternizing with her would get me. I could have anyone and yet I brushed off a perfectly attractive woman at home to come here, eat takeout, and fuck a woman I had only known for two days. A woman I wasn’t paying. Well, I wasn’t paying her forthat.
I cleaned up the mess of food on the ground, throwing it all in the takeout bag to be tossed out, and sat myself down to delve into my own thoughts for a while. There were many and they weren’t as organized as I would have liked. I sat there for an hour perhaps, hoping that my fleeting exhilaration with Persephone might have jump started my sense of focus, but something about my head had been terribly off the past couple months. Perhaps it was the attack on the gala and seeing numerous Draak die with an unsettling ease at the hands of human rebels. Maybe it was that one of our own high Draakir members, Ares Nite, had mysteriously disappeared after the event. Wondering who to trust, in and out of our councils and species, was going to take its toll on the fragile peace we’d been maintaining for the past hundred years.
Standing, I began a slow stroll through the exhibit, looking over everything I’d missed the last couple times I’d visited. Alone in the silence now, I was able to take everything in with more efficiency. The place was a treasure trove of history. Many of the pieces had been procured or donated by friends and acquaintances before I began hiring curators to continue the work for me. I’d paid two others to manage the collection before Persephone was recommended to me.. I didn’t quite expect I’d become so quickly attracted to her, but now that I thought about it, her passion came through in the arrangement of the exhibit and the many artifacts that made it. It was quite refreshing to know a human could have such an appreciation for the current state of the world instead of fixating on a past that no longer existed.
Coming to the war wall, weapons, artwork, armor, and trinkets leftover from the second great war between man and Draak decorated a long section. Swords made from red metal, black metal, and other alloys not native to Earth hung on pegs. Daggers. Bows made of wood and others of metal, which only a Draak could draw.
Among the artifacts, I found my silver dagger under the glass of a display table. Persephone’s scent still lingered faintly in the air like she’d spent a bit of time there before I arrived. She had a subtle scent, like berries and rain. One that she didn’t have to amplify or alter with bottled perfumes.
Remembering the mention of her sister being in the hospital, I started to feel slight traces of guilt for taking advantage of what was obviously a woman in a broken state. Then again, she knew she was vulnerable. She was an adult who was able to recognize her actions and her choices. She said it herself and she still chose to go ahead with it. I’d been a selfish man nearly my whole life when it came to women. I’d never met one that made me want to carry on a conversation after screwing her. At least not since Annette…
Quickly diverting my thoughts from a woman who’d been gone for nearly eighty years, I spun around and searched for another part of the exhibit to peruse. I found myself circling the entire thing before coming to a glass display shelf filled with necklaces, cuffs, and rings from various time periods. On the top shelf was a black, velvet neck with Persephone’s donation hanging somewhat sloppily around it. The same one I’d caught after she launched it across the room in a fit of anger. Looking at it now, something about it seemed oddly familiar. I cocked my head, curious, and stepped in closer, skimming for details I might have missed the first time I saw the pendant.
The piece was made of Draakomir metal, a material native only to Draakon. Pieces like that were rare and if a Draak possessed something like it, it usually meant they predated Kumir. It suggested Artemis had been mated to an Ash Bringer. Reds were old and there were not as many around as their used to be.
Suddenly the gears in my head were spinning. I wanted to open the case and take the necklace for study, wondering if I could trace its origin to any Draak in particular, but the case was locked. I’d have to wait till morning, unless I wanted to break the glass and I was far more civilized and patient than that.
Finally, after staring at the pendant for too long, I decided it was time to return home. Acquiring another mystery to solve wasn’t going to make solving my current ones any easier.
I had barely slept through the night before I found myself in the basement of my manor again at the early hours of morning, sitting in front of a screen and looking for clues as to where the Falcons had gone or what their plans were. After watching the black market for a while, something clicked. I reached over to grab my phone off the metal tabletop beside me, calling the only person I imagined might have answers to the sudden onslaught of curiosities that poured into my thoughts.
“Yeah,” Draven’s voice said when I raised my phone to my ear.
“Draven,” I said. “I have a question for you. You acquired your brother’s pendant when you escaped the rebel compound, yes? It was Draakomir metal. How many Reds do you know that own trinkets made of the same material?”
“There were many,” he answered. “As for how many made it to this world after Kumir, I can’t be certain.”
“That’s what I thought. Strange.”
