A hunger pierced his gaze, and without hesitation, he dropped his head to one nipple and sucked it into his mouth. He anticipated the noise I would make better than I did, for not a second after, he slapped a hand over my mouth, stifling my cry. His eyes glittered with amusement.

“I’ll try to be quiet,” I whimpered around his hand, but the sound came out more muffled than anything.

He released the nipple with a drag of his teeth, then slowly removed the bind from my mouth. “How I wish I didn’t have to muffle your cries, Assyria. You deserve to sing your pleasure to the world.”

My core dripped with those words. Involuntarily, I ground against the hard length pressing into it. Izgath’s eyelashes fluttered with the movement, and his chin tipped up as he inhaled sharply. “Do you like that?” I whispered.

“Very, very much,” he groaned, the sound rumbling and low and fueling my desire to continue to move like that.

So I repeated the motion, again and again, while Izgath grabbed the back of my head and crashed my lips against his. My sensitive nipples brushed against his hard chest. Our tongues battled and fought for space with one another, and the exchange of air between us made my head swim. Every nerve was thrumming under his touch. His magic deepened as my pleasure heightened.

Izgath broke our kiss far too soon. Looking up at me with pupils so large they almost blotted out his garnet irises, Izgath said, “Tell me when to stop.”

“Don’t stop,” I pleaded, body brimming with tension. My mouth popped open in a silent cry as he ground into me, muscles flexing where he braced them on either side of my head.

Lowering himself, he hovered over my breasts, watching me as he flicked his tongue over one, then the other. When he’d wetted them thoroughly, he blew cold air across them, eliciting a smattering of goosebumps across my skin. Then, he set to work on them, sucking, tugging, licking, nipping, until I was a puddle of pleasure beneath him. Dromak hadn’t taken a third of the time Izgath had to pleasure the fallen female in Osijek, and Fates, I never wanted Izgath to stop.

My thighs were slick and my core throbbed with need in a way I’d never imagined possible. “Izgath,” I whispered, the sound so filled with need, and yet I did not care.

He stilled, then lifted his gaze to meet mine. A noise of protest slipped out of me. “Yes?”

“I want more,” I panted, body so taught it might snap at any moment.

A grin settled across his features. “More what?”

“Pleasure.” I grasped one of his hands and moved it toward my center. He ground into me once, hard, and my eyes rolled to the back of my head. Then he left me bereft, sitting back on his heels. Heat swept across my chest and cheeks as he remained still, an expression of something I couldn’t quite place on his face. “Did I do something wrong?” I asked, brows dipping into a frown.

“No, Assyria. I am in awe of you.” Without dropping my gaze, he reached for the waist of Vagach’s pants, loose now that they were around my own hips. Grazing his thumbs against my heated skin, he tugged them down, stopping momentarily so I could lift my rear and help him remove them completely. “How Vagach could have caged such a beautiful creature is beyond my comprehension.”

Bracing his hands on either side of me, he dropped his lips to the bone and kissed it. My breath hitched as he repeated the action on the opposite side. Then, he dropped his mouth lower, hovering it so his breath brushed against my dripping center. “So wet, Assyria. I bet I could make you come with a curl of my finger. Tell me,” he paused, looking up at me, “have you ever orgasmed before?”

“No,” I breathed, so filled with want that I wouldn’t relax again until this tension inside me broke.

A rumble threaded with disappointment vibrated in his chest. “We will have to change that.”

Air stuttered in my chest.

One hand shifted and traced a fiery path along the outside of my thigh before dipping between and trailing up to my center. It passed through the slickness and stopped before the spot I really needed it. “Do you want me to touch you here?”

He brushed my slick folds with the barest of touches.

“Yes,” I stuttered out somehow.

I could almost feel his grin against my skin. He traced a featherlight path up to my clit.

“Oh!” I gasped as he pressed. My hips bucked at the flood of sensation. Rather than continue to touch me there, his hand drifted higher and settled me down.

“Quiet now,” he hummed, and then he rested his hands on the sensitive skin inside my thighs and spread my legs wider. My core clenched as his hot breath brushed across it. His fingers crept closer until they swiped at the wetness gathered there.

Another wave of Izgath’s magic swept over me, and I relaxed again with a sigh. Using two fingers, he parted me, and then one slipped inside. Air fled me as he pushed into the third knuckle and curled it before dragging it all the way out again.

I bit my lip as he continued the motion, legs trembling as pleasure built and built. Then, his thumb pressed into my clit, and bliss burst from the motion, filling me with a trillion tiny stars. But Izgath didn’t stop, didn’t let me gather myself. I lost all sense of time or reason as he wrung every ounce of my first orgasm from me.

“Izgath,” I panted, finally returning to my body and realizing I’d twisted my fingers in his blankets in an attempt to ground myself.

He grinned against me, then rose, wiping his mouth. “I’d say that was a long time coming.”

I was molten but quickly cooling into a mushy goo. Every muscle in my body was limp, and exhaustion pulled at every fiber of my being. I blinked up at Izgath and that triumphant grin he wore. “It was incredible.”

He huffed a laugh, then shuffled around so he rested behind me. An arm draped over my waist, pulling me flush. His hardness dug into my back, but he made no move to relieve it in any way.

“Don’t you want to–” I began, but he cut me off with a nip on my shoulder.

“No, you’ve had enough fun for one day. Can’t give you everything all at once or you’ll tire of me, Assyria.” The way Izgath said my name sent a shiver skittering across my skin. His voice caressed that word much the same as his magic had caressed my skin.

I huffed a laugh, eyes growing heavy. “Thank you, Izgath. For everything.”

If he responded, I did not know, for sleep sank into me the moment the final word slipped past my lips.

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20

Uzhhorod from a distance was like a bloodstain on the valley that nestled it. From the adobe construction of the rolling buildings that composed the city to the deep gray basalt pillars of Gyor Palace elevated on a hill in perfect view of the mountains, it looked as though the Fates had taken a wicked knife and sliced into their palms, letting their red-black blood splash along the area to develop it. Despite the season being midsummer, a chill remained in the thin air, and in the distance, the snow-capped peaks winked in the sun.

“I never tire of this view,” Izgath commented. We sat atop our mounts, watching as our units descended down the slope and into the valley.

“I can’t imagine that anyone would,” I replied, lifting my hand to my eyes to block the midday sun. Wonder bloomed inside me as I swept my gaze across the massive expanse. “Which way to the Angel Realm?”

“That way,” he said, pointing to the west, where if I squinted and tilted my head just right, the wall that ran between the two realms became visible. “And there,” he swung his finger back toward Uzhhorod, “is the war camp.”

My brows shot up my forehead. How had I missed it on my earlier perusal?