His fingers were merciless, dragging against every sensitive part of me, filling me in every way I needed.
For someone who hadn’t touched a woman for so long, he moved like he’d been born knowing exactly how to pleasure me.
“Come for me,Nher,” he commanded, his tone dark and aching with control. “Let me hear my name when you fall apart on my fingers.”
And then it broke.
My body spasmed violently, the wet thrust of his fingers moving inside me colliding with the sound of my broken cries. My orgasm hit like a storm, like I was being struck by lightning from the inside out. My legs went limp around his waist as my body writhed and convulsed in his grip.
I screamed his name, begged him not to stop, begged for more, begged for nothing at all as my body contracted and contracted.
“That’s it,” he praised, voice deep. “That’s it,Nher. You’re doing so fucking good.”
I was sobbing from sheer pleasure when he finally pulled his fingers out—only to place them on my swollen clit, flicking and rubbing. At the same time, his mouth closed hot and wet over my nipple, sucking hard.
That pushed me even higher, and I shattered again, those cruel fingers dragging another orgasm from me before the first had even ended.
How was that even fucking possible?
It was everything. It was too much and yet I couldn’t stop. My body was his, writhing and clenching uncontrollably until my mind emptied completely, all thoughts drowned out by the relentless waves of release.
I had to beg him to stop.
With his fingers going inside me and fucking me one more time, he finally pulled them free, bringing them up to his mouth. I watched, dazed and exhausted, as he sucked them clean, his lips curling into a sinful smile around them.
My pussy clenched again, oversensitive and still throbbing, just from the sight.
How could another orgasm top the one on the stool? I never thought anything would come close to that after I’d tried to recreate it with my own fingers. And yet, he’d proven that the previous one was only a warm up for me. I feared no other man would be able to set a new record, he’d definitely ruined this for everyone. Even for myself.
And he has not even fucked me yet.
“You look fucking divine when you come apart. I could see it every day and still never tire of it.”
Boneless in his arms, I blinked at him through the haze, my voice thin. “Do you want to see it every day?”
He breathed out, seriousness etched in his every line. “I’d do anything to.”
The words stabbed sweet and sharp, and that was when it hit me that I’d be gone by tomorrow evening. I’d be leaving Nimorran, leaving him.
The ache in my chest bloomed vicious and deep at that thought. I wanted to duck my head under the shower so he wouldn’t see the tear that was threatening to fall.
But Thrax saw it, and his brow furrowed, like the sadness taking root in me had infected him too. “What’s wrong?”
I shook my head quickly, swallowing back the tears. I cursed myself for ruining the moment with my stupid, fragile emotions. The last thing he probably wanted was a mortal getting attached to him. Mortal lives were fleeting, and me growing old and grey while he remained young and beautiful wasn’t exactly a turn on.
Instead of letting the thoughts grow inside me, I silenced them the only way I could—I kissed him. Hard, desperate, and rough, pouring every unspoken thought, every emotion into it.
He groaned against my mouth in understanding, pulling me tighter against him, one arm crushing me to his chest, the other still supporting my weight from underneath. Thrax devoured me with his kiss, pouring back his own dark, raw and unguarded emotions.
He shifted us under the full spray of the shower, water pouring over us, plastering my hair to my skin, his long strands falling wet around his face. His mouth stayed on mine, relentless, kissing me like he’d die if he stopped.
I clung to him, chest to chest, body to body, heart to heart, asking the universe why they gave me both a curse and a blessing in one man.
PART THREE
DEATH OF THE SOULLESS
—Fate bound them, but death waits once again—
