Forgive me,sangfluir,I apologize through our bond.
Maven ignores the apology as if her lingering fear isn't worth acknowledgment. Instead, she studies my face. While she looks at me, I glance at our surroundings. I realize we're in a hotel, and Maven and I are the only ones in this room now. The door is open, and Baelfire and Everett are in the central area of whatmust be a suite. It appears they left to give us space, while Crypt is nowhere to be seen.
That is uncharacteristically thoughtful of them, but I want more of my keeper right now.
I lift my hand and try to focus on closing the door, but my muscles burn instead. It's the same sensation I used to get when trying to cast blood magic when I was utterly spent.
Maven leaves my lap despite my protest to shut the door herself. When she turns back to face me, she smirks and slides off her shirt in one smooth movement. My cock surges with need, but then my gaze settles on her chest.
And my emblem there.
Oh, fuck me. Iloveseeing that.
"Come here,sangfluir," I say thickly, burning for more of her touch.
She approaches slowly, discarding articles of clothing piece by piece, so sensual and calculated that I could swear that she's hypnotized me by the time she reaches the bed and fixes me with a look.
"You shouldn't have," she says simply.
I slip off my own shirt, so captivated by her that it takes me a moment to understand what she's talking about. Then I scoff.
"You think I wouldn't sacrifice my magic for you? I would sacrificeanythingfor you. Even had I never woken up, that risk was well worth?—"
She's on me in the next moment, her lips colliding with mine, and then we're both hungry, ravenous,searingwith need. Rolling, I pin her to the bed and take over the kiss, groaning when her hands tangle in my hair. I rock my hips, and heat shoots down my spine when she grinds against me in return with a soft groan.
"Maven," I whisper, trying to shed my pants as fast as fucking possible. "I want to cherish you. I want to spend every day of the rest of our lives worshipping your body, but right now?—"
"Sex now. Talk later," she agrees, wrapping her legs around me insistently.
Gods above, I'm in love with her.
I never expected that.
My entire life, being in a quintet was always a given for me. It was how I would break my curse and how I intended to grow even stronger. It was never going to be anything more, not when I suspected I would be too ruthless and intense to be romantically compatible with whoever the gods matched me up with.
But Maven is a force of nature. She's steady, stubborn, and vicious. Mine.
Mine, mine, mine.
Yours, she responds, and then gasps and arches her back when I line myself up and thrust into her in one savage drive.
Fuck.
It feels so godsdamned good. Her pleasure and mine, twisting together, eating me alive in a way I will never recover from—nor would I want to. I thrust into her again, harder. When she moans and digs her nails into my back, I lose it, fucking my keeper with wild abandon as our blazing need drowns every ounce of sanity I just got back.
It's too intensely pleasurable for me to last the way I need to, so I try to slow down as I kiss along her neck, utterly losing all that I am in Maven. In fact, I'm so lost in her that it takes me a moment to realize I'm licking and sucking the skin over her carotid artery.
I pull back, going perfectly still.
"Silas," she huffs, rolling her hips insistently.
"There's something very wrong with me."
"I'm already in the mood. You don't have to try seducing me more."
I shake my head, aching to move but equally confused. "Maven, I…I'm thirsty. Desperate."
Maven gives me a testy look. "So am I, butsomeoneis trying to fucking edge me again."
