Page 84 of The Blood that Binds Us

The Black Art isn’t gentle the second time.

He thrusts back into me, this time seating himself all the way to the hilt, his cock hard and thick inside of me. A strangled scream rasps from my throat, and he moans at the sound. His hands tighten around my ass as he pumps in and out of me, his cock stretching me around him easier as I grow wetter with each deep-seated plunge.

My head falls behind my shoulders as he fucks me, and I grind my hips against his, sheathing him in my warmth. I feel no embarrassment as I call out his name, moans falling from my lips as the sound of his sex slaps against mine. And when he leans forward and takes my nipple between his teeth, chaos explodes inside me, and I fall over the edge, unable to stifle the screams that follow. Sin buries his face against my neck as he finds his own release, and if it’s possible for me to get any wetter, I do as his cock pulses inside me, and he spills his seed deep in my cunt.

My back collapses to the desk, and I pull him against my chest, his nose in the hollow of my collarbone. I comb my fingers through his hair as we lie here, holding each other, our breath slowly returning to normal.

Sin props himself up and presses his lips to mine once more, this time much gentler, sweeter. When he stands, he pulls me with him so I’m sitting upright, and he tucks my hair behind my ear. “You are so beautiful,” he whispers, his voice more raw than I’ve ever heard it.

He leans forward and kisses the spot on my hip where his black heart once adorned. “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t going to miss seeing my mark on you. But I’ve found more enjoyable ways to claim you,” he says, his eyes taking in his seed now running down my thighs.

“I take the tonic,” I say. The concoction of herbs that prevent pregnancy. “I packed it in my bag when we visited my family.”

“I know,” he responds smugly.

I raise an eyebrow at him, and he grins.

“I saw it on your table when I visited your chambers last night. Certainly planted images in my head. And if I dare say, you live up to your namesake. You sing so pretty, little Wren.”

I smile with mock sweetness and tie the straps of my dress behind my neck while he steps back into his trousers and pulls his shirt back on. He motions for me to turn around so he can lace my dress again.

“No need. I’m heading to my chambers. I’m officially wiped out.”

He frowns, and then murmurs, “Stay with me tonight.”

“Not done with me yet, Your Grace? I’m already going to be thinking of you every time I try to walk tomorrow.”

He laughs softly, but it doesn’t touch his eyes. “Sleep in my chambers tonight. There are about a thousand men out there wondering where you slipped away to right now, and I don’t want them tracking you down.” His tone is lighthearted but weighted with genuine concern. Concern that I have no doubt would turn into something much…messier,should anyone actually try anything.

“What kind of woman do you take me for?” I jest.

He leans forward and whispers against my lips, “A very…verydesirable one.”

“Then it’s averygood thing I’m quite capable of looking after myself.”

He chuckles. “You have made that abundantly clear.”

I step away from him and dip my knees in a mock curtsy. “Goodnight, Your Grace.”

When I turn into my room, I lock the door with the bolt only, knowing he will come by later and spell it closed. And for some reason I don’t fully understand, I want him to be the one to seal the others out.

Cosmina kneels on her pinkish bare knees, her neck tilted towards the sky, her dark hair cascading over her shoulders like a subterranean waterfall. Blue veins vine around her neck like vicious necklaces, and her breath turns labored and shallow. A twig snaps from somewhere in the forest around her, and she jerks her attention towards the sound just as a large, black mist appears within the trees. Her eyes go wide, but her knees remain planted in the mossy ground. She bares her teeth in a threatening snarl. As if it were sentient, the mist rears up in response and rushes towards her like a storm about to swallow her whole.

I fly upright, ripping the sweat-drenched blankets off my body.

Cosmina.

She wasn’t there.

After the battle, the blood magic left me in a drunken high, crazed and… and distracted. My cheeks warm with the memory of last night’s events—or early this morning’s, I suppose—realizing I have no idea how long I’ve been asleep. But the high seems to have faded with sleep and an unknown number of hours, and I am thinking clearly now.

She was supposed to be there.

That was our plan, our arrangement. We would overwhelm Legion, free Cosmina, and my sister and I would be allowed to leave Scarwood unscathed.

Legion was massacred. Blood magic had been coursing through me, sent me flying into a frenzied version of myself that was consumed with…him.Sin overwhelmed my senses—his smell, his appearance, his… the way helookedat me. When he drained the magic from my veins to protect us both, he panicked trying to get me to respond, to make sure I was okay. In the heat of battle, he didn’t need a spell to keep me near him. His concern for my wellbeing was enough to bind my will to his.

The Black Art watched as I slaughtered his enemies without remorse and licked their blood from my lips. He wasn’t frightened of me, disgusted by me, or thought any less of me.

---