A rumble filled the slot as he spun and gave chase again. “Can’t fuck me if you can’t catch me, Rokath,” I teased, breathless. When I faced forward again, I skidded to a stop, too late, and landed myself in a tangle of shadows.

A low, sinister laugh that raised the hairs on my arms echoed around me. “Got you, little imposter.”

The debauched grin Rokath wore sent a gush of wetness between my thighs. Piece by piece, he stripped off his armor, maintaining his hold on me the entire time. I wiggled against his magic, but they were like vines around my arms and legs. One smoky tendril offered my neck a gentle caress, causing me to shiver from head to toe. Another tugged at the laces of my tunic and pants, stripping me bare without him having to touch me.

Never before had he displayed such power with me, and the sheer mastery alone was impressive. Let alone the lethal body of the male who wielded it. The culmination of it all made me drip for him. If my thighs had been sticky with sweat before, they were damp for an entirely different reason as he revealed his swollen length, the tip beaded for me.

“Will you get on your knees or do I have to force you there?” he growled, striding forward. His cock bobbed with each step, and I couldn’t help but watch it. The hold over his magic softened enough that I fell to my knees willingly, ready to worship him.

A primal, masculine sound slipped out, and he cupped my cheek, lifting my face so I was forced to look him in the eye. “Good girl.” He thumbed my lip, and without resisting, I opened for him and sucked the tip into my mouth, raking my teeth along the pad. “Open wide,” he commanded, and I dropped my jaw again, although for a very different reason than before.

As he slid along my tongue, a burst of salty musk flooded my senses. He stopped before he hit my throat, then dropped his hand from my face and braced himself against the smooth stone. Eyes like an inferno stared down at me as I worked over his length, remembering how deeply he liked being in my throat before. I gagged around him, struggling to breathe, and he groaned. “Just like that, Assyria. You’re doing so well.”

The praise went straight to my core. Saliva dripped around him, and soon, wet, sloppy sounds filled the silence, punctuated by heavy breaths and curses from Rokath when I took him deep. Then, without warning, he pulled me off him and hefted me. Spinning us, he settled me on top of a smooth rock, then spread my legs and knelt between them. “I need to taste you. See if that’s the taste of victory,” he moaned, then swiped his tongue through my slick folds.

“Fates,” I cried out, grasping for purchase on something, anything, as he flicked my clit.

“They don’t give you pleasure. I do.”

“Yes,” I panted, mind blanking as his rough beard tickled the sensitive skin between my thighs. My mind blanked of everything but him. “Rokath, fuck, I need more.”

A growl rumbled against my center, and he slipped two fingers inside, joining his tongue in working me to a frenzy. “I was right, little imposter. You do taste like victory. Now come for me and drown me in your arousal.”

He curled his fingers against my inner walls, stroking roughly as he lapped at my clit, and I shattered, crying out his name. Body snapping like a whip, my muscles clenched around his fingers, head tipped back to the sky. “Your cries are so pretty, Assyria.”

Still, he did not relent, pulling every last drop from me as he spread and speared his fingers. “Fuck, Rokath,” I panted, sweat rolling between my breasts and down my stomach.

Only then did he rise, my arousal glistening in his beard. He wiped it with the back of his hand, then pumped his dick while raking his gaze over me. “So damn beautiful,” he murmured as if he were venerating the body that just wept for him.

He nestled between my thighs, then gripped the back of my head with his free hand. “I want you to keep your eyes on me the entire time, understood?”

“Yes,” I whimpered, barely resisting the urge to scoot closer so his head would slip inside me.

“Mmm, good girl,” he praised, then split me apart with one powerful thrust.

My mouth popped open and a gasp slipped out as more pleasure swept through me. Rokath was massive, and we didn’t couple often enough for me to be nearly used to his size. Each thick inch of him stretched me, brushing against every nerve. Before I could gather my bearings, he buried himself again, sending me rocking back. He switched his grip so that he supported my head and back, and then set a brutal pace, skin slapping so hard that I knew it would bruise.

The entire time, he didn’t look away from me, keeping me pinned under the ferocity of his gaze. Those burgundy eyes were pools of black, and through them, I saw the male underneath. The male who feared losing the war to the Angels. Feared being vulnerable, feared being seen as weak.

Feared becoming attached to me. Feared that I would hurt him too.

And he bared those truths to me through those windows into his soul, through the thick rope that tied our fates together. Words were unnecessary when we were bound like this, every thought, every emotion, open and available to one another if we simply allowed it to be.

And in that moment, he did.

A hand wrapped around my throat, thumb secured under my chin and lifting it even higher. His attention flicked to my fluttering pulse, then back to my eyes. He stilled, so deep inside me I swore he was in my stomach.

A noise of protest slipped out of me. “Rokath,” I pleaded, though for what I wasn’t sure. I just needed him to do something, anything, to abate this ache for his touch.

His chest heaved, and a wildness slipped into his eye as he beheld me. Something was tumbling through his mind, and I waited, breath lodged in my throat. He moved again, slower, dragging his length to the tip before slipping back in. “You will come for me six times before I am finished with you tonight, Assyria. Six times for the six hours it took me to slaughter those fucking Angels.”

My core clenched at his words, a mix of excitement and apprehension swirling through me. “I don’t think I’ve come that many times in my life,” I panted, rocking my hips in an attempt to garner some friction.

“Do not challenge me further, little imposter,” he growled, yanking me down on his hardness. Stars exploded in my vision. Then, he fucked me again, at such a frenzied pace I was careening toward the edge with no chance of stopping it.

“Rokath, I–” With a cry, I came again, digging my fingers into his shoulders as he continued to drive into me. My breasts bounced with each movement, and I crested one wave after another. Before I’d even had time to recover from it, he switched his grip again, one arm wrapped around me to offer support while the other toyed with my clit.

“Come again, and show me how sweet victory is,” he growled, swirling more wetness there and pressing.

“Oh, Fates–”

He growled and slapped that sensitive bundle of nerves.

“Rokath,” I corrected myself, half-screaming as another orgasm tore through me.

“That’s it, Assyria. Drip all over my hand,” he rasped.

When I came down that time, he ceased touching me and stuck one finger in his mouth. His nostrils flared as he cleaned it, then he offered the other to me. “Taste victory, little imposter.”

He swiped the tip against the seam of my lips, and I opened, sucking and tasting my arousal. I moaned, and his cock thickened inside me. “Three more,” he ordered, pulling his hand away.

“I don’t think I can,” I panted. Sweat slicked every inch of my skin, and my body felt wrung out in a way it never had before.

Rokath tugged me off the rock and settled me on the ground. I nearly whimpered when he slipped out of me, but a moment later, he spun me and locked his arm across my stomach. Dropping his head to my ear, he said, “Brace yourself against the rock. It’s going to be a rough ride.”