Page 39 of The Illuminated
He let go. “Well now I understand why everyone wants to kidnap you,” he said, but there was no humor to his tone. “You can’t energy share with anyone else, Áine. It’s too powerful. Like a hundred times the strength of elixir. This is something you could get lost in. Or addicted to.” His voice was low. “Understood?”
“Yes,” I promised.
We stared at each other for a long moment, and I sensed his shield wrapping back around him like a cloak. Then his lips were at my throat, tugging at my skin with his teeth, and his hands held my wrists down at my sides. He moved his way down, past my stomach this time, and I groaned as he pulled me deeper into this pleasure—as vast as an ocean now.
He knew my body like it was his own, bringing me up to the surface of release and then dragging me back down, toying with me in a way that was both cruel and divine.
“Can I please?” I begged, and I wasn’t sure how many times I’d asked or if this was the first.
“Yes, baby.” His grip on my thighs tightened, and it was enough to send me over the edge.
I didn’t have any time to recover before Daelon flipped me over onto my stomach and pulled my hips up to meet his. His hands weaved through my hair so tenderly, juxtaposed sharply with the thrusts that felt almost like punishment.
A soft whimper escaped my lips, and he pulled me up so that my back was to his chest. His arm snaked around to reach to my neck, his grip firm without applying pressure. “Shhh. You can take it.”
I found myself lost in his voice, buying into each word like it was gospel. His lips found my ear, then his teeth, and then he pushed me back onto the covers with a growl.
He flipped me back onto my back, and our gazes locked. I still felt his energy mingling with my own, and it felt like all parts of me were now under his control—like a virus had invaded my system and taken hold.
“When you look at me like that it makes me want to do all kinds of terrible things to you,” he said, his hand on the center of my chest as he stared down at my body.
“When I look at you like what?” I asked innocently, and his eyes went wild. He touched my lips, and when I opened my mouth and sucked his fingers they went wilder still.
He pulled them out slowly, moving them back down between my thighs. I inhaled sharply.
“Like you’re just waiting for my direction. Like you’ve submitted to me, completely…”
His fingers moved expertly, bringing me back up to the edge of release yet again. My back arched, and he grabbed my waist and pushed me back down. When he pulled back his touch, I frowned.
Daelon smiled in response, but then his face hardened back into something far more threatening—like this was war and he was winning. He entered me once more, and my every nerve ending was alive and sensitive.
There was nothing else. No one else. No pain, confusion, or sadness, no hidden maps or keys or prophecies, and definitely no evil kings or dungeons. Daelon’s whispers in my ear, his grip on my wrists he’d dragged above my head, and his hips meeting mine—these were the only things that existed.
When we finished, we were both breathless and lost, neither willing to return to reality any time soon. He drew me to his chest, and I wrapped my limbs around him like a vine. I was still under his spell, listening to him whisper praise into my ear like it was the only thing keeping me alive.
“You were so good for me. You’re perfect.” He kissed the top of my head and brushed my long copper strands back away from my face. “I love you.”
I love you too,I spoke into his mind, because I couldn’t speak yet.
He chuckled. “Are you okay, little witch?”
“I’m very okay.”
I was delirious with a pleasure that was both physical and magickal. Daelon was right: I was really getting the hang of being a witch. And I was starting to understand why the ladies had been so insistent that witch sex had to be better than human sex. It was true. Nothing could compare to those multilayered vulnerabilities and intimacies. It was like sharing my soul just as much as my body.
When I took in another deep inhale as if struggling to catch my breath, Daelon laughed, and I hadn’t realized how much I’d missed the sound of it. We deserved so many more moments like this than we were allowed.
“Do I have to carry you to the shower?” he asked.
I lifted a tired limb, then let it flop back to his torso. “Yes.”
Sleep welcomed me easily after our handsy shower, where Daelon had run his hands across every inch of my skin, massaged my scalp with meticulous care, and kissed me more times than I could count. Whatever had taken hold of me, urging me to kneel before him in that wordless relinquishing of power—it had worked. We were back to being on the winning side of Lucius’s twisted games.
I only woke once before morning, surprised to find a spasm of panic at the feel of Daelon’s body beside mine before I touched back to reality. I shifted, reveling in the feel of silky sheets against my bare skin. The warmth and weight of Daelon’s arm splayed across my stomach was equally comforting, and I thought I’d never been more comfortable in my life. I wanted to sleep like this every night for an eternity.
I wanted our freedom so badly I was willing to do anything—to put my faith in anything.
Even my ability to survive my own death.
