Page 58 of Tempest Blazing
"Mason..." I gasped. "Oh god, right there... Please..."
"That's it, sweetheart," he murmured against me, his voice vibrating through my core. "Let go for me. Let me give this to you."
He hummed against me, the vibration shooting through my core. His grip tightened on my hips, holding me firm as his tongue lashed my clit with swift, relentless strokes. The peak built fast, terrifyingly fast. Pleasure tightened every muscle, coiled low and deep. The thought of his strength, his scars, his unbreakable devotion—it was the final spark.
"I love you," I cried out, the words torn from somewhere deep in my chest. "God, Mason, I love you so much."
The coil inside me snapped. Pleasure detonated, white-hot and shattering. I cried out his name, raw and broken as my body convulsed against his relentless mouth.
Our bond flared—golden light bursting beneath my skin, visible even through the steam. It pulsed outward like a silent, radiantwave, gilding the air around us, amplifying every sensation, making the physical ecstasy feel like falling into molten sunlight. Like being remade.
Mason held me firmly, riding the wave with me, his tongue softening but never ceasing, drawing the ecstasy out until I was trembling, gasping, my legs barely holding me up.
He pressed soft kisses against my inner thighs as he worked his way slowly upward. The golden light beneath my skin gradually faded to a warm, contented hum.
His large hands slid up to cradle my face as he rose to his full height. He pulled me against him, my naked body pressed flush to his wet skin. The hard planes of his chest felt solid, real. Unbreakable.
I melted into him, boneless and trembling. The frantic edge of captivity, the lingering cold fear—gone. Crushed under the weight of the pleasure he gave, the safety he embodied.
"See?" he murmured, his lips against my temple. His voice was rough with satisfaction and something deeper—fierce pride. "You're here. You're mine. And nobody touches you without your choice ever again."
Chapter 25
Mason
I stepped out of the bathroom, steam trailing behind me as I wrapped the towel around Tess's shoulders. Her skin was flushed pink from the heat, droplets of water still clinging to her collarbone, and something in my chest tightened at how small she looked in my arms.
"Come on," I murmured, lifting her easily. Her head found the hollow of my shoulder as I carried her to the bed, her breath warm against my neck. "You need rest."
I meant to lay her down gently, to pull the covers over her and hold her until sleep took the tension from her body. That was the plan. Keep it simple. Keep it safe.
But when I set her on the edge of the bed, she didn't let go.
Her hands found my face, thumbs tracing the scar along my jaw, and when she kissed me, it wasn't the desperate, hungry thing from before. This was slow. Exploratory. Her lips moved against mine with a simmering need that made my knees weak.
"Tess," I started, but she was already pulling me down onto the bed, the towel slipping from her shoulders.
"I want to do this," she whispered, her voice rough with want. She straddled my hips, and I could feel the heat of her throughthe towel around my waist. "I need toact, Mason. I need tochoose."
The way she said it—like taking control was a lifeline—undid every rational thought in my head.
Her lips trailed down my stomach, and when she took me in her mouth, all the air left my lungs in one sharp exhale. Her tongue slid along my length—hot, wet perfection—and I arched up off the bed, my hands fisting in the damp sheets.
Every nerve ending screamed. Her hair, still damp from the shower, spilled over my thighs as she worked, the scent of cinnamon and her arousal thick in the air.
I looked down, watching her mouth work me, the sight alone threatening to shatter what little control I had left. Her golden eyes met mine, and the pure intent in them—theagencyburning there—made my pulse pound harder.
I let my head fall back against the pillow, surrendering to the slow, deliberate pull of her lips. My skin tightened, my scars pulling taut over muscle that quivered with restraint.
I could feel my gargoyle strength stirring just beneath the surface, a deep throb in my bones, held in check only by the sheer focus of my will. Every lick, every soft suction, was a brand.Tess. Mine. Safe.
The mating bond hummed between us like a live wire, amplifying every spark of pleasure she drew from me. My hips pushed up, seeking more of that slick heat, and she hummed low in her throat, the vibration shooting straight to my core. I groaned her name, the sound rough with need.
Then it hit me—not pain, but pressure. A familiar, dangerous magic pricked at my senses. The air crackled, thick with the ozone tang of an approaching storm.Ciaran.
My body went rigid, every protective instinct roaring to life. Gargoyle magic flared beneath my skin, a protective surge that tightened my muscles like stone.
He materialized soundlessly from the shadows pooling at the foot of the bed. Pale gray skin, those startlingly bright silver eyes fixed on us. A charcoal gray button-down shirt stretched across his broad shoulders, the fabric immaculate despite his sudden appearance, while black slacks completed the deceptively civilized facade. He held himself utterly still, coiled power radiating from him like a physical weight.
