Bound By Darkness (Guardians of Eternity #8)(28)
Author: Alexandra Ivy

She was being consumed by flames, drowning in the heat of his touch and the blaze of his unrestrained need.

Opening her mouth to his thrusting tongue, she skimmed her hand down his chest. She didn’t mind sharing control, but she wasn’t a passive lover.

Ariyal sucked in a startled breath as she brushed her fingertips over the rippled muscles of his stomach and then clutched his c**k in a firm grip.

“Shit,” he hissed between clenched teeth. “I can’t play games tonight.”

She knew the feeling.

She was close. So very close.

“Then finish this.”

“Yes.”

Holding her gaze as she positioned him, Ariyal gave her one last stroke of his finger before sinking his erection deep inside her.

They groaned in unison, holding absolutely still as they absorbed the sensation of being so intimately connected. Then, feeling the hunger once again threatening to overwhelm her, Jaelyn dug her fingers into the tight muscles of his ass.

“Ariyal.”

“I know,” he muttered against her mouth, his hips slowly pulling back before shoving forward with a blissful force. “Hold on tight.”

She pressed her face into the curve of his neck as he set a fierce pace, her fangs aching and the bed shaking beneath the impact of his thrusts.

“Please,” she moaned, the building pressure narrowing to a shimmering promise that hovered just out of reach.

“More. I need …”

“That’s it, poppet,” he breathed into her ear, his hand slipping between them to caress the tiny nub of pleasure. “Trust me and let go.”

“Yes.”

Her entire body clenched and hovered for a timeless moment; then with shocking force she shattered into a million, joyous pieces.

Chapter 8

A part of Ariyal cringed at the realization he’d just made fierce, passionate love to this beautiful female in surroundings that weren’t fit for a hellhound.

No matter how desperately he wanted Jaelyn, he should have been capable of waiting until he could offer her at least the illusion of comfort.

But a larger part of him was indifferent to the hard, narrow bed and grimy cell. Or even the distant stench of demons entering a large room overhead.

He had just experienced the most shockingly blissful climax of his long, long life. The last emotion he could stir up was regret.

Actually, he wasn’t sure what the hell he was feeling as he snuggled the silent vampire against his chest, his fingers running through the cool silk of her hair.

“Tell me about your nightmare,” he commanded before he could halt the words.

Not surprisingly she stiffened, her reluctance to discuss her past a tangible force in the air.

“Give it a rest, fairy,” she growled.

“ No.”

She pulled back to stab him with a steely glare. “Do you want to talk about your years with Morgana le Fey?”

His jaw clenched. Of course he didn’t want to discuss that crazy-ass bitch. If he had his choice the name of Morgana le Fey would be scrubbed from the history of the world.

But for reasons that should no doubt be making him wail in fear, he wanted to know what haunted her when she slept.

No, not wanted. Needed.

“What do you want to know?”

She frowned, caught off guard by his abrupt capitulation. Had she been bluffing? Then he felt the slight easing of her muscles as she nestled against him and a genuine curiosity melted the frost on the indigo eyes.

“Were you her lover?”

“I was her slave, not her lover.”

She gave a slow nod. Did she understand the soul-numbing difference between the two?

“Did she hurt you?”

“She took pleasure in causing pain.”

“She tortured you?”

“In the beginning.” His arms tightened around her as he was battered by the memories he struggled so hard to keep buried. “Eventually she discovered that it caused me far greater distress to see my brothers hurt.”

She paused, clearly sensing his injuries ran far deeper than a few scars.

“Did she use her magic?”

“Sometimes.” His voice was thick as he choked on the vivid image of blood. So much blood. “Usually she preferred to carve them with her knife.” He shuddered. “She called it her living art.”

She stroked a tentative hand over his chest. As if unfamiliar with offering comfort.

“She made you watch?”

“Yes.”

“Bitch.”

Oddly her simple condemnation was more soothing than any amount of fancy words of sympathy.

“That was the general consensus,” he agreed dryly.

She paused, studying him with an unwavering gaze. “Was it worth the sacrifice?”

He shrugged.

It was a question that was never far from his mind.

It didn’t seem possible that anything could be worth enduring such pain and loss. But then he had only to recall the brutal days beneath the rule of the Dark Lord to be reminded of why they were willing to sacrifice everything to be free.

“It will be if I can prevent the return of the Dark Lord,” he said, tugging a strand of her raven hair. “Which is why I’ll do whatever I have to to keep him imprisoned.”

She ignored his warning. “What will you do if you succeed ?”

“Live in peace with my tribe.”

“With you as their prince?”

He shrugged. He’d never asked to become prince.

“Until they choose a new leader.”

“Do you get a throne and a crown?”

His brows lifted. Was she actually teasing him?

The thought was unexpectedly erotic.

Okay, every thought that included Jaelyn was erotic, he wryly conceded, rolling on top of her slender frame with a low groan of satisfaction.

“No, but I do get my choice of consorts,” he murmured.

“Really?” Her lips tightened. Ah, feminine disapproval. It spanned the species. “I suppose you have them all picked out?”

He shifted until he could press his hardening erection against her inner thigh.

“One, at least.”

A dark emotion flared through her eyes before it was being ruthlessly crushed.

Had it been … yearning?

No, impossible.

“Don’t look my way, fairy. Even if I didn’t want to constantly punch you in the face, I’m not consort material.”

“I’m a patient man,” he assured her, bending down to whisper against her lips, still swollen from his kisses. “I’m willing to train you.”

She rammed her fingers into his hair, but she made no effort to push him away.