Page 23 of To Free a Soul
He barely moved from his cross-legged position as he worked. His form constantly shifted, appearing like chalky ink moving across invisible paper.
Sometimes large sections of his bare chest and lightly muscular abdomen would be revealed by the blobs as they moved up and over his torso, neck, and the side of his jaw before breaking apart. Other times the inky spots were more spread out, revealing his lean thigh, or calf, or even a foot, while his elbow and face became visible in parts.
Her mind was able to map these movements and paint a perfect picture of what Weldir looked like entirely.
A shadowy demi-god who had pointed ears and long, twisting horns that ran from his hairline and through his two-inch-long hair. His face was chiselled to near perfection, with a broad jaw, high cheeks, pleasant brows, and a nose with a small bump in its straight descent down his face. His lips were full, but they were pushed out due to his large canine fangs hidden away behind them.
His long body gave the impression he was lithe, and his build was athletically strong, rather than bulky. That strength was a lie, of course, as he probably could have crushed anything inthose godly hands of his. Hands that were big, could touch roughly as well as gently, and were tipped with claws.
His eyes had once unnerved her. The glossy pools of ethereal darkness had felt all-consuming, and she’d worried that if she stared into them for too long, she’d fall into the void and be eaten. But as the years went on, and they grew closer in the disjointed and sparse time they spent with each other, she found them to be hypnotising.
It didn’t help that his lashes, often sprinkled with dust from his mist, made them lovelier to look upon.
Weldir was... attractive. She’d known that from the first time she pieced together his features in her mind in full. Actually, she often found him to be devilishly handsome, to her demise, and very few human or Anzúli men could compare to the wonder that was Weldir.
Just the simple knowledge that she’d touched him, and had been touched in return, had her insides warming in memory. How those pretty lips and sharp fangs had played across her skin, and how she’d delved her hands into the wispy strands of his hair or curled them around a hard horn. Or how his clawed fingertips had dug into her soft thighs. If he hadn’t healed her after every sexual experience together, she no doubt would have been bruised or sporting little cuts.
Her legs had been wrapped around his narrow hips, or that arrogant and ignorant head of his. His hands had touched almost every inch of her, but were mainly locked on the places that felt the nicest, like her breasts, pussy, or gliding up her spine.
Only when her core clenched in want from the memories did Lindiwe realise that she’d been chewing on her bottom lip and blatantly ogling him.
Her face flared with heat as she sucked in a silent gasp of surprise and looked down once more.Oh god, please don’t tellme he noticed me staring at him.She cringed.I’m so glad he doesn’t have the power to read my thoughts.
Because right then they’d been wildly perverse and naughty.
Her mind radiated with a groan, but she resisted showing how uncomfortable she’d made herself. Especially since shifting her position to close her legs and fold them to the side proved just how wet she’d made herself.
It’s not my fault. She pouted as she flipped a page despite not reading a word of it.I usually don’t stay here for very long... and when I do, it’s usually to make another child.To fuck, and from her side, orgasm over and over until she was breaking apart to make up for the years she’d go without.
She actually didn’t like that he healed her. It meant the injuries and aches from well-deserved and passionate sex were lost when she actually wanted to hold onto those things. All she was left with was the ghost of the memory in her mind.
She was horny...a lot.
Now that she was receiving pleasure, she craved it.
Enough so that she squirmed because the idea of another child only deepened her ache. Not because she wanted another one, but because of what happened beforehand.
Stop it.She wanted to smack herself with her journal but refused to let Weldir know of her internal struggle.
The longer she sat here in his presence, the more she was tempted to crawl – float – over to him and see if they could be intimatewithoutthere ever being a result.
Once more, she didn’t want to let him know just how needy her body could be. He was already too privy to that when theywerein the moment, by how her inhibitions let go and she’d claw at him for more and more until she was disintegrating into a thrumming, satisfied puddle.
She didn’t know if he’d be into the idea, and the inclination she had that he’d reject it also left her silent.
It meant her aching clit and throbbing, damp pussy bothered her every second she stayed there, and she found it difficult to keep her eyes from ogling him. Which, considering he was her husband, sheshouldbe allowed to do. She should be allowed to go over to him aroused and know she’d be accepted, or naughtily crook her finger at him to come closer.
But her rapidly beating heart, panicked yet full of desire, refused to let her try.
She merely pretended nothing was amiss as she moved onto a new journal.
“Is something wrong?” Weldir asked, not looking up from his task. “Your heart has accelerated.”
Lindiwe wanted to crawl inside herself and expire. Her neck heated at being caught out, and her trembling fingers curled into the soft-bound book. “I just have a lot on my mind.”
Lots of naughty, perverted thoughts.
Ugh, I’ve lived a hundred and seventy-one years and I’m acting like a callow girl.Lindiwe should bebeyondsuch things. She should be mature and in control at all times, but it was like she couldn’t shake that part of her.
