Her fingers tangle in my hair, trying to pull me back to her mouth. Her legs tighten around my waist. “I want all of you, not just the parts you think are acceptable. So take my pleasure. Claim me,” she nearly growls.
Take her pleasure. Claim her. Let go.
My subconscious makes the connection faster than the rest of me, and by the time my conscious mind catches up, I’m staring at her in complete awe.
How? How is this possible?
I slide my hand up the column of her neck, running the tipsof my claws over her smooth skin, watching her with utter fascination.Sheis my shadow—at least some part of her is. This entire time, I thought that darkness was mine, but … it ishers. It washervoice in my head. Her voice I have been fighting.
“You,” I whisper, lost in a sea of revelation. In the arena, it was her I gave myself to. It was her rage that pushed me, that gave me power when I had none. Her mind that allowed me to think faster—a blend of strategy, emotion, and brute force. My tact and her rage. My calm and her action. The strongest parts of us both, working together, as one.
“Vexar?” she asks.
Unmoving, I stare at my Queen. My shadow. The woman who has saved my life twice.
“You won’t hurt me,” she says.
Gods, she is fearless. Fearless and beautiful. My perfect shadow. “Amara,” I whisper, claws still pressed to the side of her neck, “gentleness does not come easy to me.” She feels like glass in my hands. And even now that I know what my shadow is and what it wants, it is difficult to trust.
Her hands slide to my wrist, and she strokes my skin with her thumbs. “Trust me. Please.” Her heartbeat thuds beneath my grasp.
Trust her.
I lean down to her ear, feeling the darkness in me rise.Herdarkness. “Are you certain?” I ask, letting my nose drag along the side of her face.
“Fuck me,” she dares.
Holding her, I give in to her request and I fully let go.
45
FALLING
AMARA
AN ALIEN CRY escapes me as Vexar drives into me with one brutal thrust. I thought I had taken most of him already, but I was wrong. There was more. So much more.
Overwhelming ecstasy narrows my vision until all I can see are his eyes as he slowly retreats and presses forward again. His fear is completely gone, and I watch as he gives himself over to me. Fully.
Our hands roam. Lips dance. And I can feel him everywhere. The honesty of the moment reaches an intensity I didn’t know was possible. I’ve never felt so connected to anyone. Every thrust. Every sound. Every smell. Every emotion. Raw, honest, and perfect.
“Mek Lysaer…” he whispers, his voice ragged and unrestrained.
Claws prick into the flesh of my ass. I can’t tell the difference between pain and pleasure; every sensation is ecstasy. Love and desire in physical form. Another climax builds. Spotsline my vision. My fingers drag through his hair, pulling him closer, kissing him, tasting the salt on his skin, feeling the raw power of his body above me.
“Come for me,” he begs, as his teeth tease my ear. “Let me feel your pleasure. Let me hold you as you fall apart.”
And I do fall apart. My nails dig into his back as an orgasm rips through my shaking body. I scream his name, rolling my hips, chasing the pleasure, needing more.
“Vok,” he rumbles, low and deep.
The feeling of fullness intensifies, and I moan at the strange sensation.
“I am swelling,” he rumbles. “Tell me if it is too much.”
I just want more, so I nod and keep moving.
“Words, Amara.”
