I drag my thumb over her bottom lip, entranced by her. “Fuck, you lie so pretty.” That moment in the library, of course she’d already done her research. “You’re the only one to ever surprise me.”
I called for her, and yet, I still never saw her coming.
“Maybe…” She pauses to nip my thumb. “I just want to hear you talk about things. You give a lot away when I let you talk.”
A savage yearning shreds my restraint. “I’m done talking.”
Her swallow is hard, the plea in her liquid gaze flaying the pitch-black tar of my soul. “Then unlock me, Kallum. Unravel me. I don’t want to be blind anymore. I want to see.”
“Goddammit,” I mutter. Her scent sears my lungs, the shower steam infusing the aphrodisiac notes of ylang-ylang into my fucking pores, and I’m all but drugged on her. She writhes on top of me in search of friction, making my fractured control nonexistent.
I band an arm around the small of her back and lift her against me, flinging the blanket away. “Fuck it,” I say as I take her to the shower. “I’m no fucking saint, either.”
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17
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SORCERY OF THE SOUL
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KALLUM
I shove the shower curtain aside, nearly ripping it from the rod. Not bothering to remove my pants, I climb into the tub with Halen in my arms. Her throaty whimpers guide me to press her back to the slab of marble, caging her body with mine.
I devour her mouth like a famished animal, every salacious desire rend from my being by the soft feel of her sultry lips. She needs me to chase back the darkness, and I’m the demon to do that. I’ll swallow every bit of darkness for her.
Her palms braced against my chest, she wanders her hands reverently down the hard planes of muscle, washing my skin clean as the warmth of the spray rinses blood between us.
I break away to tower over her, splaying my hand against her slick skin, streaking the crimson between the valley of her breasts in worshipful pursuit to memorize every beautiful, enticing inch of her.
And I glimpse her in my mind’s eye, with blood coating her hands, droplets splashed on her face, bathed in pale moonlight—a muse delivered to me to rouse my dead soul.
I had never wanted anything or anyone as badly as I wanted her in that moment, and I never stopped. Each day I waited for her, my hunger only grew. I want her just as badly right now, to the point I have to will myself to slow before I consume her in a fit of gluttony.
She yanks on the belt secured around my waistband, and I catch her hand. “Not a chance, sweetness,” I whisper across her mouth as I trap her wrists and push her arms above her head. “Let me work my magick and burn that drug from your veins, then I swear, I’ll fuck you until you literally see god.”
If I can’t make my muse commune with a higher power, then I’m not worthy of her.
Her gaze snares mine, a fiery current banked there affirming her own vow to break me. “The rite is to repeatedly arouse the ritualist-seer,” she says, arching her back until I’m forced to relinquish one of her wrists and cup her perfect breast, “to bring them to sexual exhaustion…never reaching orgasm.” She licks her lips in a sinful taunt. “Are you going to arouse me to near death, Kallum?”
I smile against her mouth. “Devious little sprite, if I deny you gratification for that length of time, that torture will damn sure kill me first.” I lower myself to take her peaked nipple into my mouth, sucking until she releases a strangled cry, then I swallow that lovely sound with a demanding kiss.
“Eroto-comatose lucidity is only one method,” I tell her as I clasp the side of her face, trailing my thumb down her wet lips. “I much prefer the practice where I exhaust you by bringing you to orgasm over and over.”
A state between awareness and sleep, induced to bring on a trance. Enhanced when the seer gazes at a sigil during the rite. Yet no matter the chosen practice, it’s the intensity of the act that conjures the magick, taking what’s present in the conscious mind at the moment of orgasm and reaching far into the subconscious.
A flame of hope is stoked by the chance such a state could elicit her latent memory.
In mirrored conflict, Halen touches my face, seeing right down to my core. “It doesn’t matter,” she says, her tone grievously fragile. “Whatever is in the past…leave it there.”
A raw ache chars my throat with the powerful hit of her melancholy. During our ritual, I could taste her desire and hesitancy equally as she battled her rational mind for control. Feeling Halen surrender to us now, here in this moment of time, is like the purest dose of aphrodisiac injected into my bloodstream.
Her hazel gaze beckons me to abandon my pursuit to bring her back.
She’s here with me now.
“I’m at your mercy, sweet Halen.” I dip down and taste her lips, then meet her eyes as I implore her, “Destroy me.”
And goddamn, she is divine torture as she does.
I drown beneath the torrent of her heightened emotions as she steals my breath with a sensual kiss, her body melding against mine seamlessly. My hands map her body, exploring with aggressive deliberateness to learn every curve and plane.
I lavish her neck with my mouth, my tongue delving out to taste her skin. The water does little to dilute the heady mix of Halen and blood, and it sends me into a feral lust, awakening the hedonist within. I kiss and caress tenderly, chasing each sweep of my tongue with a bite and scrape of my teeth to balance the edge between pleasure and pain.
She rakes her nails across my shoulder blades, summoning the fiend to my surface. I fist her hair and tilt her head back under the spray, granting myself full access to sink my teeth into her neck, feasting on her like a demon of the night. My goal to mark her as mine and override the imprint on her shoulder is a vicious demand.
Hauling her ass away from the marble, I glide my palm down the backside of her thigh and bring her leg over my jean-clad knee, spreading her open to me. I first trace the sigil on her sensitive skin, my cock damn near tearing through the confines of my pants in aching need, before I push my hand between her thighs and swirl my fingers over her clit. All sanity nearly shatters at the slippery feel of her arousal despite the water raining over her body.
A broken moan catches in her throat. Her muscles gather tight as she rolls her hips in needy undulations to speed my strokes, and when I slip inside to feel her tight cunt pulse around my fingers, I release a deep growl against the pocket of her shoulder.
Halen works her hips in perfect time to my building rhythm, fucking my fingers in abandon and killing me at the sexy-as-hell sight of her. She pushes off the shower wall and links her arms around my neck, unconcerned with the stitches or pain. She licks the sigil carved in my chest, tasting my blood and unleashing a depravity within me from the basest corner of my soul.
The primal urge to taste her on my tongue rears hot and violent to drop me to my knees.
Through the hazy curtain, candlelight bathes her glistening body as I kneel before my goddess and surround my mouth over her sweet pussy.
Fingers splayed in my wet hair, she tugs at the roots to deliver a hint of pain, igniting a bestial hunger to feel her tear me apart.
Her moans fall freely from her lips as I suck her clit into my mouth. I release a rough groan against her sensitive flesh, feral as I take her to the edge, again and again, until she’s writhing in delicious pain so deliriously intoxicating, I’m drunk on her. Her thighs clamp down hard around me as I feast on her, fucking her with my tongue as my goddamn cock throbs in pounding fury to feel her sheathed around me. I continue to consume her saccharine taste, punishingly bringing her to the edge of climax before battling my own animalistic desire and forcing myself to taper off.
