"I—I can't," I gasp, my hips straining toward his touch.
"You can," he insists, withdrawing his hand completely, leaving me empty and aching. "I need you to tell me exactly how I should touch you, or this ends now."
The loss of contact is unbearable. I whimper—a purely Omega sound—pride crumbling beneath overwhelming biological need.
"Touch me," I plead. "Please, Malakai. Please, Alpha."
The last word slips out unbidden, pure instinct.
His growl of satisfaction vibrates through the air. His hand returns immediately, two fingers sliding inside me with delicious pressure, his thumb working my clit as I arch my head backwards. "So good for me," he praises. "So perfect, so responsive. You were made for this—for my touch, my shadows, my possession."
The shadows holding me shift, spreading my legs wider as Malakai continues his relentless assault on my senses. My skin burns with fire, and I feel him moving, lowering. Without warning, I feel the wet heat of his mouth replace his fingers, his tongue exploring my most intimate places.
"Fuck, your pussy is throbbing and you're producing so much slick for me, wife" he muses, and then without warning he slaps my pussy.
"Malakai!" I cry out as the sharp pain mixed with pleasure builds to nearly unbearable levels. I start to pant for air, ready to come apart.
"So fucking responsive and so perfect," he praises. "Say my name while I slap that needy cunt again."
"Malakai," I repeat, and then he slaps my pussy again, harder and I nearly shatter. "Please, don't stop. Please, Alpha."
"Never," he promises, and then his mouth is on my pussy and the sensations are unbearable. His tongue circles my clit with focused intensity while his fingers pump inside me, curling to hit a spot that makes stars explode behind my blindfold.
"You taste fucking divine," he murmurs against my flesh, his voice vibrating against my sensitive skin. "Like sunlight and surrender. Come for me, beautiful one. Let me feel you shatter."
The praise, combined with the physical sensation and his scent surrounding me, pushes me over the edge. I come apart with his name on my lips, my body convulsing in his shadows' embrace as pleasure crashes through me in waves. I scream, my eyes shut behind the blindfold, riding this pleasure as he keeps thrusting his fingers in and out, never stopping, drawing more screams out of me. I whimper and shudder against him, trying to control my body, but my light magic expands, seeps out of my skin as I tremble all over.
As I float back to awareness, I feel the blindfold being removed. Malakai's face comes into focus, his eyes dark with hunger and something deeper I don't dare name. His fangs are fully descended, gleaming in the firelight.
"Beautiful," he whispers, brushing hair from my face with unexpected tenderness. "So perfect in your pleasure."
The shadows lower me gently to my feet, though they remain wrapped loosely around my wrists. Malakai's body is pressed against mine, his arousal evident through his clothing.
I should feel shame, but there is only lightness and peace and satisfaction. Should rebuild the walls of hatred that have protected me since our marriage. Instead, I find myself leaning into him, craving more of his touch, his praise, his possession, his knot, his bite.
And as his mouth claims mine in a kiss that feels like ownership and promise combined, I fear he might be right. He kisses me deeply and shoves his tongue into my mouth like he's trying to consume me, tasting my own slick on his lips.
His eyes darken as he pulls back from the kiss, something primal and possessive overtaking his features. "Now," he commands, his voice a dangerous rumble that sends shivers down my spine and fresh slick down my thighs, "you will finish what you started earlier. On your knees."
CHAPTER 21
BOND
Seraphina
The shadows lower me gently, then guide me downward until I'm kneeling before him, my eyes level with the obvious arousal straining against his trousers. My heart pounds, defiance and desire warring within me.
"I don't take orders," I say, but my hands are already reaching for the fastenings of his clothing, desperate to please. I want him in my mouth as I clench my thighs together, more slick coating my legs.
His laugh is low and knowing, pure satisfaction. "And yet here you are, so fucking eager to obey this particular command."
I want to hate him for his arrogance, but as I free him from the confines of his clothing, all coherent thought abandons me. He's magnificent—hard and ready, thick and perfect, shadows swirling around the base like a possessive caress.
My hands move of their own accord, stroking him with deliberate slowness. I'm rewarded with a sharp intake of breath, his shadows flickering with pleasure, his scent flooding with arousal.
"Fuck, stop teasing me," he warns, fingers tangling in my hair.
I look up, meeting his gaze with newfound boldness. "Why not? You've teased me plenty."
